The Cauldron (Archive and sample chapters)
by Quatermass
Summary: Welcome to The Cauldron, a melting pot of archived chapters from my abandoned fics, as well as initial chapters from fics yet to come. Mostly crossovers, but there may be sample chapters from pure Harry Potter fics. Rating for stories up to an M rating. Character tags added for most common non-crossover characters.
1. Foreword

**FOREWORD**

Perhaps the most stupid question you can ask any writer is where they get ideas from. Sometimes, it's not getting too few ideas that's the problem, but rather, too many. And sometimes, they overreach themselves. I'm no exception. Therefore, with this in mind, I present to you _The Cauldron_.

 _The Cauldron_ was inspired by a similar concept done by sakurademonalchemist, who has done several 'fanfics' which are actually sample chapters of stories she has worked on, but may not necessarily become full stories. Like her, I am doing something similar, starting with this one for Harry Potter. Like her, I have marked this as a pure Harry Potter fic rather than a crossover, simply because not only will the crossovers be wide-ranging, but there may be sample chapters of pure Harry Potter fics. There are also the archives of the existing chapters of my abandoned crossovers _My Summoner Girlfriend_ and _Sympathy for the Devil_ , which will be deleted soon as of this writing.

One thing I must emphasise here is that I will not be putting any of these stories up for adoption. I am saying this right here, right now, so that I don't get any reviews or PMs asking for that. Part of this is that, archived abandoned fics aside, I have first refusal on turning these into full stories. Please do not ask to adopt these, as refusal will offend. I will get annoyed if people do not read this notice, or else ignore it. I will reiterate it for emphasis: **NONE OF THESE STORIES ARE UP FOR ADOPTION. DO NOT ASK ME. IF I BITE YOUR HEAD OFF FOR ASKING, IT'S YOUR OWN FAULT**.

Also, if you want to review a particular story, please point this out in your review. In other words, name the story. This goes especial if you want to see a non-abandoned story get published: I want to know which ones tickle your fancy.

Now that that's out of the way, time for my disclaimers. Firstly, because the ratings of these sample chapters are variable, this one is rated M to be safe. Sexual references, violence, and crude language abound, along with possible disturbing themes.

Secondly, there will be annotations, as is usual for my works. Do not gripe to me about them.

Thirdly, there may be spoilers for various franchises, and certainly for Harry Potter. You have been warned.

Finally, the following is a fan-written work. Harry Potter and the various franchises crossed over are the properties of their respective owners. Please support the official release. Otherwise, Snape will render you down for potions ingredients...painfully.

 **NOTE** : _For the ease of anyone looking for specific franchises, series, etc crossed over with, here is a brief guide, with each story listed by crossover. Those marked with asterisks have been published as full stories and are currently active. Any not on the list are because I haven't updated yet_.

 **Pure Potterverse stories** : _On the Delights of Drinking Blood*, Just a Touch of Kleptomania*, On the Side of Angels_

 **Final Fantasy IV** : _My Summoner Girlfriend_

 **Final Fantasy VII** : _The New Cetra Heritage: Imago_

 **Highschool DxD** : _Sympathy for the Devil, Lance and Devil_

 **Hellsing** : _The Uncertainty Principle*_

 **Batman** : _Verdant Magic*, Yin and Yang_

 **Fate/Stay Night _and_ Fate/Zero** : _Light the Blue Touch Paper and Run Like Hell, Perils of Magical Investigative Journalism*, Ex Umbra in Solem*, Gorgon and Thanatos (_ original, new version currently published _), Res Nullius, Non Ominis Moriar  
_

 **FEAR** : _Lux in Tenebris Lucet_ (original version)

 **Yu-Gi-Oh!** : _Shadow Games and Philosopher's Stones, Ignis Aurum Probat*_.

 **Resident Evil** : _Resident Evil: Basilisk_

 **Silent Hill:** _Heather Potter and the Legacy of Alessa_

 **Undertale** : _Underground's Champion_ (original and revised*)

 **Homestuck** : _Ofiuco Amduat and the Goblet of Fire, Kakistocracy*  
_

 **Doctor Who** : _Renaissance of the Renegades_ *

 **Futurama** : _Future Imperfect_

 **Final Fantasy VI** : _Hammer into Anvil_

 **Black Lagoon** : _Killing Floor, Disquiet*_

 **Sekirei** : _Rara Avis, Wings of the Forsaken*, Flock Off!*, Green Girl and Her Wizard  
_

 **One Piece** : _Mare Nostrum_

 **Fullmetal Alchemist** : _Truth and Consequences_

 **Final Fantasy VIII** : _Knight and Sorceress Reborn_

 **X-Men** : _X-Celsior, One Flew into the Cuckoos' Nest*_

 **Teen Titans:** _Per Vola Su Nata_

 **John Wick:** _Men of Focus_

 **Worm** : _Nec Asper Terrent_

 **Street Fighter** : _Zen and the Art of Magical Bonding Between Child Soldiers_ (original and revised*)

 **Dr Mabuse** : _Gambler of Magical Britain_

 **RWBY** : _Under the Light of the Shattered Moon, Neopolitan and the Goblet of Fire*  
_

 **Girl Genius** : _Girl Genius' Animagus_ *

 **Darkstalkers** : _Nocturne, Never Tear Us Apart_

 **Borderlands** : _Spanner in the Works_

 **Cthulhu Mythos** : _It's the End of the World as We Know It, and I Feel Fine_


	2. My Summoner Girlfriend Chapter 1

_**My Summoner Girlfriend,**_ **like many stories I have abandoned, fall into the 'it seem** **ed like a good idea at the time' category. I think it was the first time I wrote Harry Potter in the first person, never mind with a snarky viewpoint. I would revisit that in** _ **Resident Evil: Basilisk,**_ **but it had its origins here. Sadly, I realised I didn't have enough interest in** _ **Final Fantasy IV**_ **to continue it beyon** **d the second chapter, so I abandoned it. However, for archival purposes, the two chapters written are the first of the stories** **presented in** _ **The Cauldron...  
**_

* * *

 _ **MY SUMMONER GIRLFRIEND**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **THE NICK OF TIME**

Wow, my girlfriend was right. He _did_ look like a fantasy Darth Vader-wannabe (I'd only seen the movie from within the cupboard, so I didn't see that much through the vent, but I'd seen enough, and probably liked it more than Dudley). Well, that's not what she said. She didn't call him a Darth Vader-wannabe, but between her descriptions of a murderous maniac in black armour and with a deep voice, I could be forgiven for making the comparison. Unfortunately, it's pretty much impossible to get a hold of movies where we live, especially considering that we live in a world where movies and television haven't been invented.

We were in a big, cathedral-like chamber with a shiny crystal floating above a dais in the middle. The man's standing over the exhausted and paralysed bodies of his foes, taunting them, doing some 'nothing in the world can stop me now' speech, while a rather nasty-looking dragon glares at them. It looks like my girlfriend and I got here in the nick of time. She certainly recognised the people on the brink of dying, well, save for one, but she seemed sure it was the right guy she had met before.

Said guy was a silvery-haired pretty boy in brilliant armour. Seriously, he looked like that 'Knight in Shining Armour' cliché. Nearby was a woman in peach-coloured robes that were a touch on the skimpy side. Then again, my girlfriend's habitual outfit is basically a green leotard with additions, so I can't talk. Nearby is a man wearing no shirt, just red trousers, so he can't talk either, especially with that topknot of blonde hair and moustache. And finally, there's a guy in dark blue armour, wielding a spear like he's compensating for something.

We left our home in search for my girlfriend's old friends. Well, to them, she's been gone weeks at best. To her, it's been twelve years, nine of which she spent with yours truly. So, enough time to grow stronger, and be able to kick some serious arse. Oh, and be able to drink legally. Even where we live, there are drinking laws. Not that I'm complaining, mind. In fact, once we're done kicking Mr Tall, Dark and Armoured's arse, I might hit the pub in this castle. Dwarves are known for their excellent ale, and we sort of rushed through. Thankfully, we managed to persuade the Dwarves that we were here to help.

So, while my girlfriend summons up her own dragon to destroy Mr Wannabe Dark Lord's dragon, I dart out, using curative spells aplenty. While I'm a Red Mage, given that I have no gift for summoning like my girlfriend, I tend to use mostly White Magic, as my girlfriend knows a lot of Black Magic. A quartet of Cures and Esunas later, and they're back on their feet.

"Who are…you?" Mr Knight asks.

"No time to talk. Dark Lord to kill. Firaga!" The last I yelled, firing a BFF into Mr Wearing Armoured Platform Boots. And by BFF, I mean Big Fucking Fireball. Fire tends to solve many problems where evil SOBs are concerned…unless they are immune or absorb fire.

Thankfully, judging by the roar of pain and his slamming into a wall, Mr Fear My Darkness wasn't.

My girlfriend ran forward. "Little overkill, Harry?" she asked.

"Rydia," I said, "This is the guy who effectively ordered your village to be torched. I think it's only overkill when we send the ashes into outer space."

"…Fair point," Rydia said.

"Rydia?!" Mr Knight yelped. "But…you're…you're older."

"Yes, I know, Cecil," Rydia said. "I know, I know, you thought I was dead, and I will explain shortly. But Golbez isn't going to kill himself."

"Oh, what a shame," I muttered, hefting my rapier at the ready. "It'd be so much easier then."

"Your insolence is amusing," Golbez said as he recovered from my attack. "But it is also immensely irritating."

"He lives to be immensely irritating," Rydia replied. "It's actually a relief to have him do it to you for a change. I'm never risking an untested summoning spell again, or I might get someone worse."

"You are an Eidolon?" Golbez asked in surprise.

"Nah, just a human mage who is…oh, what's that word Leviathan called me again, Rydia? Starts with a G, sounds entomological…?"

"Gadfly(1)," Rydia supplied.

"Yeah, that's right! Gadfly! I'm Harry Potter, Professional Gadfly, at your service. Now, would you like to look at the menu first, or would you like the beatdown we have for today's special?"

"… _You_ will be the first to die," Golbez proclaimed.

"Daily special it is!" I cheered. "Rydia, feel up to a Twincast?"

"Always."

As Golbez lunged, Cecil intercepted him. "You'll have to go through me!"

"It matters not," Golbez said, before flinging him aside. Cecil recovered quickly, but it was a moot point, as we were ready.

"ULTIMA!" Rydia and I called out in chorus. A big blue dome of energy suddenly enveloped Golbez, with the would-be dark lord emitting a squawk of surprise. And when the light faded, Golbez was sprawled on the floor in an undignified manner.

"Ultima…" the woman in the peach-coloured clothes. "The ultimate Black Magic…more powerful even than Meteor…I never believed anyone capable of using it."

"We learned to do it while training, Rosa. I mean, a lot of the time, Harry annoys me, but our teamwork is impeccable when push comes to shove," Rydia said.

"But what happened to you, Rydia?" Cecil asked. "You are now a woman. And you share the company of this…strange Red Mage. The last time I saw you, you were thrown overboard by Leviathan's fury, but that cannot have been that long ago…"

"And you were a dark knight when I last saw you, Cecil. We've both changed a lot." Rydia sighed. "The brief version of events is that Leviathan is an Eidolon, and he took me to the Feymarch, the Land of the Eidolons. Time moves far more swiftly in the Feymarch than it does outside. What was mere weeks to you was a dozen years for me. They raised me as they would raise their own child, and trained me in both the summoning arts, and in Black Magic."

"And this Red Mage, Harry, was it? He is a compatriot?" Rosa asked.

I bowed. "Harry Potter, Red Mage, Raconteur, and Rydia's Boyfriend, at your service. Long story short, when we were ten, Rydia wanted a friend to play games with. She didn't want an Eidolon, she wanted a human, and hopefully one of you guys. Unfortunately, not only did she use an untested spell, but, well, her aim was a little off. As in, I don't come from this world, any more than I come from the Feymarch. I'm a mage, though I didn't know that at the time, but frankly, my relatives were pretty nasty humans, and I use the term loosely. Eidolons were much better company."

"Some would not reciprocate that feeling, as Harry here is an unrepentant prankster of the highest order," Rydia said.

"Leviathan can't take a joke! His throne stopped giving him electric shocks after a few minutes!"

"Harry, you pranked _the King of the Eidolons_. Only Bahamut is more powerful." Rydia sighed. "Anyway, where was I?"

"I think you explained the pertinent points, Rydia," the shirtless man said. "Still, to have an ally such as him would be beneficial to our purpose."

"Golbez has been defeated," Rosa said.

" _Have I?_ "

We whirled to find that Golbez's body had disappeared, though they saw something that looked like a gloved hand scuttling up to the crystal. It pounced like a spider onto the crystal, and vanished.

Everyone stared at what happened. Eventually, I spoke what was on everyone's minds, even if they didn't say it.

"Well… _shit_."

* * *

Given that we had failed to save the Crystal, King Giott of the Dwarves was surprisingly accepting of that fact. He was determined to make sure that Golbez didn't obtain any more, true, but he at least didn't berate us for our failure. Or try to execute us. I like my head and other extremities where they are, thank you.

While Cecil and Kain were discussing a strategy to thwart Golbez with Giott, Rydia and I went to the pub in the castle, accompanied by Rosa and Yang, which was the name of the shirtless wonder (he was some sort of monk from a place called Fabul). I was the only one who didn't ask for water or juice, though I was surprised at how accommodating the dwarves were.

"Are you really Rydia's boyfriend?" Rosa asked, frowning.

"Yes, he is," Rydia said for me as I drank. "He's more than a little eccentric, but he never really got to spread his wings at his old home. He's actually quite nice when he's not being irritating. He comes from a very different world to ours, though. They don't have airships, but they do have big bird-like air conveyances called planes. And they have motorised carriages called cars, and some sort of entertainment device called a television, that shows images on a small screen. However, magic is hidden there, and is considered a fantasy by most people present. But it must exist, as Harry himself can use it. Unfortunately, his guardians viewed it as an aberrant ability."

"They called me _freak_ ," I said bitterly, reminded of the Dursleys. "Said my parents were good-for-nothing dole bludgers and drunks who died in a car accident. I'm pretty sure they lied, but I don't know what happened to my parents. I mean, sometimes I have nightmares of a woman pleading for mercy, a high laugh, and a green strobe of light. Could be memories of my parents' death. I don't know." Another gulp from the tankard of ale. "At least Rydia knew her parents."

"Before Mist got set on fire, anyway," Rydia said bitterly. "And Cecil and Kain killed my mother's primary Eidolon." She waved away Rosa's attempt at apologising. "It's fine, I've had time to get over it. I mean, I accepted Cecil wanted to protect me and make up for his actions when Baron troops tried to finish the job, but it took a while for me to accept his apologies. He's a good man now. Actually, what's with his armour now?"

It was Yang who answered. "He went to Mysidia. The Mysidians were understandably unhappy to see him, considering that he had attacked their city and stolen their Crystal for his king. But they decided to give him a chance to redeem himself, by sending him to Mount Ordeals. Although it was normally a lethal venture, Cecil, along with his companions, prevailed. Tellah helped him, along with a pair of Mysidian prodigies, Palom and Porom. Cecil overcame the trial, and became a Paladin, a warrior of light."

"Tellah? Tellah was with you? Where is he now?" Rydia demanded.

"…He's dead," Rosa said quietly. "I was being held captive in the Tower of Zot, a fortress Golbez had commandeered for his own. When Cecil and the others tried to exchange a Crystal for my freedom, Golbez reneged, and Tellah, to avenge the death of his daughter, used Meteor on Golbez. Though Golbez was forced to flee, grievously wounded, Tellah's body was too old to withstand the use of Meteor. He died shortly before Cecil and the others rescued me."

I watched as Rydia stared at Rosa in shock over the news of Tellah's demise. "No…" she whispered.

I didn't like seeing her like that. A lot of what I did during our years together in the Feymarch was to make her not feel sad anymore. I hadn't really known the pain of loss, because I lost my parents when I was really young. The most I felt was the loss of a home when I was brought here, and quite frankly, the Dursley's house on 4 Privet Drive (more like Privy Drive) was not a home by any real sense of the term. But Rydia had had to deal with the loss of two parents, as well as seeing death and destruction on a scale no seven year old (as she was before she came to the Feymarch) should have to see. She witnessed the bombing and sack of Damcyan, the invasion of Fabul, and she had no idea whether Cecil, Yang, or Edward survived Leviathan's fury.

In fact, it was only recently that scouts were sent out to find Cecil and the others, and those scouts reported back about Cecil and company being at King Giott's castle. Hence why we came here.

Tellah…I remembered the anecdotes Rydia had about the cantankerous old sage. About how he blew up his daughter Anna's elopement with Prince Edward of Damcyan out of all proportion. How, in misplaced rage, he had tried to beat Edward (who was a bit of a sissy, apparently) with his staff, but didn't do much more than bruise Edward, given his lack of physical strength. To this day, neither of us know what the hell he meant when he apparently screamed at Edward, " _You spoony bard!_ "

And now we'll never know. Golbez had claimed the life of someone dear to Rydia, despite the brief nature of their acquaintance.

I stood, as did Rydia, and she began to cry into my shoulder. Tellah's death had affected her badly. And I didn't like seeing my girlfriend cry.

I knew, then and there, that I would make Golbez pay. He had been an enemy before, given what Rydia said about the man, but now, seeing Rydia in pain like she was now, I was going to do whatever I could to make sure he caused her no pain again…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So…yeah. That just happened. Quite a bit of humour, and a bit of drama. Hope you like it.**

 **1\. A gadfly is basically someone who stirs people up for their amusement. Not out of any true malice, though: the context I have seen it in suggests that a gadfly is less malicious than the modern term of troll.**


	3. My Summoner Girlfriend Chapter 2

_**MY SUMMONER GIRLFRIEND**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **THE TOWER OF BABIL**

Maybe I should tell you a bit about myself. Just to, you know, let you know who you are dealing with.

I'll be perfectly honest, I don't know much about myself. My name, until I was old enough to attend school, was 'freak' or 'you' or, if the Dursleys were feeling particularly generous, 'boy'. I guess they had to tell me my name (Harry Potter, if you've forgotten it already, and I'm sure you have) just in case someone at the school took notice of the fact that a boy was calling himself a freak. My childhood for nine years, from the age of one, to the age of ten, was basically spent as being servant and scapegoat to my adoring, loving aunt, uncle, and cousin. You can sense the sarcasm there, can't you? I meant it. That wasn't a home, not to me. It was a prison and slave house. My bedroom was a cupboard, for fuck's sake. A cupboard. You put brooms and vacuum cleaners into a cupboard, not a kid.

According to my dear relatives (and to use the politest language they ever used), my parents were freaks, dole-bludgers, and good-for-nothing drunks who died in a car crash, which incidentally gave me the rather rakish-looking scar on my forehead. Of course, it must've been a really weird car crash, given that Asura, Queen of the Eidolons, and the nearest thing I have to a mother nowadays, extracted some sort of soul fragment from it. Then again, I wouldn't be surprised if my relatives lied about that. They certainly lied to themselves about how good and nice Dudley was (and he gave baby whales a bad name), and how evil and delinquent I was to the neighbours and to the teachers.

I do remember instances where I performed what must have been magic. I once turned a particularly obstreperous (damn Asura and her elocution lessons!) teacher's hair blue. And when Dudley and company were chasing me, I somehow ended up on the roof of the school. Both times, of course, I got into deep shit. Chucked into the cupboard, starved a little, beaten a bit. Fun stuff like that.

Now, how did I come to live in the Feymarch? Well, I was wishing, fervently, for a friend on my 10th birthday. Rydia was using her ill-advised summoning spell at the time. Nobody in the Feymarch knows exactly how I ended up there, only that it happened as soon as I made my wish for a friend. So maybe my wish intersected with the spell. You know, wishful thinking actually working for a change. It's as good a theory as any, and while nobody knows for sure exactly what happened, we believe that to be the most likely explanation. Quite frankly, the other explanations are downright insane, and while I may flirt with insanity, she's somewhat fickle. Rydia is more reliable.

My first meeting with Rydia was, honestly, a strange one. Rydia hadn't met any human beings her age, or of any age at all, for the past few years. Plus, she was surrounded by what looked to my impressionable, ten year old eyes by monsters. So, I was understandably freaked out. I screamed for long enough to pass out from a lack of oxygen. I started screaming again when I was shaken awake by a horned, fiery demon who I later learned was Ifrit. And I passed out again. This went on a couple more times, until I finally managed to stop freaking out at the fact that I was with a group of monsters, as well as a green-haired girl.

Of course, once I learned I couldn't go back home, I started screaming again. In retrospect, that was stupid. The Eidolons had been far better to me than my aunt, uncle, and cousins ever were. But even so, it was still understandable. I had been torn away from everything I knew into a bizarre, strange world.

Admittedly, that time, I only screamed until I fainted once. Partly because it was getting older than Leviathan, and partly because my throat was getting wrecked by my screaming. I needed a lot of throat-soothing medicine afterwards, I can tell you.

Once I had gotten over my panic, I got dragged away by Rydia to play Rock-Paper-Scissors. The Eidolons had kids, but few of them had human-like forms, and those rarely wanted to play with Rydia. Admittedly, she did have an occasionally bratty attitude, but those were few and far between. And I found myself enjoying her games. For the first time in my childhood, I actually had someone to play with who wouldn't treat me like a punching bag.

Now, it took a while for me to fully accept that I couldn't go home again. It really took realising that I didn't really have a home to begin with at 4 Privet Drive to truly get me to accept living in the Feymarch. And when that realisation came, I actually asked for a party, and got given one. You know, a 'Good Riddance to Bad Rubbish' party. That was a good day, one of the best days I had ever had in my life. There was even a chocolate cake and everything.

I learned more about Rydia's past from the girl herself. Until relatively recently, she led a fairly quiet and relatively idyllic life in Mist, a small village not far from the Kingdom of Baron. Her father died when she was very young, but otherwise, her life was fine. Then, someone killed the Eidolon linked to her mother. Rydia would later gain her own version of that Eidolon, the Mist Dragon, but the death of her mother's primary summon killed her mother. And the culprits, a Dark Knight called Cecil and a Dragoon called Kain, waltzed right into Mist and delivered a ring that sprouted Bombs, explosive creatures that laid waste to Mist. Cecil and Kain, horrified at what they had done inadvertently (they didn't know they were there to exterminate the summoners, just deliver a gift to the people of Mist), decided to rebel against Baron, but try explaining that to a distraught seven year old girl with the ability to summon Eidolons. In the depths of a major hissy fit, she managed to summon Titan, who caused an earthquake.

Separated from Kain by a massive chasm, Cecil found an unconscious Rydia, and took her to a nearby desert town, Kaipo. Rydia, once she recovered, was understandably reluctant to trust Cecil. After all, he had more or less killed her mother and wiped out not only her fellow summoners, but most of the inhabitants of Mist. Only when he defended her from a squad of Baron's knights did she begin to trust him. And when she saw his anguish at finding his comatose lover Rosa in the same town, beset with a bad fever, she decided to go with him in earnest.

One adventure led to another. They met Tellah the ornery Sage, Edward, the diffident Bard, and Yang, the valiant Monk. They learned of Golbez, the true power behind Baron's throne, and found that Kain, under Golbez's mental control, was working for him. It was decided to head to Baron to confront Golbez, but Leviathan, who had been attacked by Golbez (while he was having a nice swim for recreational purposes, apparently), attacked the boat they were travelling on in a rage. He was angry about the death of the summoners, and of Golbez ganking him while he was trying to have a nice little swim. Rydia was flung overboard, and, well…Leviathan, shocked out of his mind that there was a summoner left, took her to the Feymarch. And then, she summoned me, and, well, I've talked about that.

Anyway, from that point onwards, Rydia and I grew up together. We became friends. The very best of friends, actually. And while at times our relationship has been rocky, we're partners in more ways than one. She's a kickarse summoner, and I'm a smartarse Red Mage. We're a surprisingly good team.

Now, back to the story…

* * *

Our next port of call was to be the Tower of Babil. As Golbez intended to try and take the Crystal at the Sealed Cave, King Giott told us to try and retrieve the ones taken to the Tower of Babil in order to thwart the armoured megalomaniac. Giott was going to distract the defenders by using the Dwarves' tanks.

Now, the Tower of Babil was apparently Golbez's base of operations. He had several. He had been based at Baron, as well as the Tower of Zot (which had collapsed), and now, it seemed, he was based at the Tower of Babil. It was a legendary structure that not only extended high into the heavens, but also pretty deep underground. I personally reckon Mr Dark Armour was compensating for something, but what do I know?

Before we set out, Rydia and I met one of Cecil's compatriots, Cid, an airship engineer who was currently repairing their own airship, the _Enterprise_. A squat, bearded man with a rough tongue and a good heart, Rydia and I liked him quite swiftly. However, he had to deal with the repairs to their airship, and we had to travel to the Tower of Babil on foot.

It was, surprisingly, filled with technology. Whoever built this place certainly had one of the more advanced technologies in this world. It even seemed more advanced than back home, like something out of a science fiction movie.

We eventually made our way to a chamber where a massively tall man, dressed in a red mantle and with skin of the same colour, looked at an older man. You know how I was snarking at Golbez for looking like a fantasy rip-off of Darth Vader? Well, this old coot looked like an even worse rip-off of every mad scientist you can think of, complete with messy white hair and thick glasses. "Fare thee well, Lord Rubicante," the mad scientist said in a simpering, obsequious tone.

"There is little to worry about. Eblan's castle has fallen, along with Eblan's shinobi," the red-skinned and clad man, presumably Rubicante, said in a deep, resonant voice. "You are now responsible for the running of the Tower, Dr Lugae, until I return." He then vanished in a rather ostentatious swirl of flame.

Lugae then began to giggle, and pranced about with glee. "Yes! With Rubicante and Golbez gone, I am the lord of this tower!"

"What's wrong with him?" Rydia asked.

"How long a list would you like?" I remarked.

"Quiet!" Rosa hissed, but it was too late. Lugae had spotted us, and was making his way over.

"Who's there?!" He glared at us. "Cecil and his fellow fleas? When the hell did you get up here?"

Kain marched forward confidently. "I remember you, old man. A Baron scientist that Golbez has doing his filthy work for him. Neither Rubicante nor your master is here to save your decrepit hide. I suggest fleeing."

"Fool! I will not stand for such disdain!" Lugae snarled. "I may not be one of the Archfiends, but I am Golbez's chief strategist! And I will not flee! Barnabas!" He snapped his fingers, and a massive, hulking form emerged from a nearby door. Blue-skinned, yellow haired, with a flat top of the skull, and electrodes sticking out haphazardly.

I looked at it, and then back at Lugae. "Yep, it's official, you're a rip-off merchant. That's _so_ Frankenstein's Monster."

He stared at me for a moment, before he said, flatly, "What."

"Seriously, that's so much a rip-off of Frankenstein's Monster. Did you invent a TV that can see across dimensions?"

"I, ah, NO!" But there was something in his tone, surprisingly, that suggested otherwise. He then pointed at me. "Barnabas, kill the annoying Red Mage first!"

"Aw, you do care!" I crooned, even as the creature charged towards me with a snarl. I dodged at the last moment, with an "Olé!", allowing it to crash into a wall.

What followed was a not so much an epic battle to the death as much as a bullfight. Barnabas tended to charge at us, fists swinging, and all we had to do was dodge. Cecil, Yang, and Kain did most of the physical attacking, while Rosa healed us from the times when Barnabas or his master managed to hit us. At one point, Kain's spear was left buried deep in the hide of the beast, which was actually some kind of robot. "Rydia," I hissed as we dodged another charge, which sent the beast careening into Lugae, "Thunder spells on that spear?"

"Yeah," she said, nodding. "I'll use Ramuh, and you use Thundaga."

"GET OFF ME YOU OAF!" Lugae screamed, trapped beneath a Barnabas who had tripped over as he had collided with his creator. Barnabas was trying, but was rather slow, given that Cecil had managed to sever something in his leg earlier.

"Come, I summon you, Ramuh!" Rydia called out. Lightning smashed in from nowhere, and Ramuh, an old man wearing robes, bearing a staff, and sporting a very large beard, appeared.

"Hey, Lugae, wanna know what happens to a robot and a madman who's struck by lightning?"

"I AM NOT MAD!" Lugae screeched from underneath Barnabas.

"That is an opinion you are having(1)," I remarked.

"Ramuh, use Judgement Bolt on that spear, please," Rydia said to the Eidolon.

"Very well, Rydia," Ramuh replied. And as he gathered energy, so did I, preparing a Thundaga spell.

"Anyway, as I said, Lugae, wanna know what happens to a robot and a madman who's struck by lightning? THUNDAGA!"

As I unleashed my spell, Ramuh yelled, "JUDGEMENT BOLT!" And simultaneously bolts of lightning from both of us smashed into the spear, running into it, and thus deep into Barnabas' body. Monster and creator convulsed, worms of electricity crawling along them and eating into their flesh. Smoke rose from them, and then, Barnabas collapsed.

Lugae gurgled. "Damn…burnt out…my transformation…system(2)…but…Rubicante's already taken…the Crystals…away. That's what you came for…isn't it?" A weak, rasping chuckle emanated from the dying man's mouth. "The Tower stretches to…the surface…and you won't…be able to…follow…Rubicante. And my cannons…they will…annihilate…the Dwarves. You…have… ** _lost_**." A rasping chuckle once more emanated from Lugae's mouth, before he choked, and coughed up blood and spittle.

Dr Lugae died. Big loss.

"The Dwarves!" Rydia cried out. "We need to stop those cannons!"

* * *

We made it to the control room for the cannons, finding a bunch of goblins firing on the Dwarves. Although we dispatched them easily enough, they destroyed the controls, preventing them from being shut off.

"Go now!" Yang yelled, but I shook my head.

"And do what? I've got a better idea. Rydia? Another Twincast?"

She sipped from an Ether bottle, and threw another one at me. As I drank, we left the room, but kept the door open. "This'll be tricky. Rosa, please cast Protect on us," Rydia said.

Rosa nodded, and did so. Then, we concentrated, before we unleashed Ultima on the room, annihilating it, and sending most of the debris, now little more than small shard of metal, glass, and plastic, raining down to the ground far below. The rest bounced off our Protect shields. We then closed the door. I then glared at Yang. "Were you going to sacrifice yourself and go out in a blaze of glory or something?"

Yang fell silent for a time, but he said, "You have my thanks anyway. At least the Dwarves are safe. But we need to leave the Tower. If the Crystals have already been taken further up, and we can't follow Rubicante, we'll have to find another way."

"Rubicante and Lugae mentioned Eblan, the kingdom of the shinobi," Kain said, his arms crossed. "It is true that the Tower of Babil emerges from the surface near Eblan."

"But what do the Crystals have to do with the Tower of Babil?" Rydia asked. "You told me before we came here that Golbez claimed that it would reactivate the Tower, and draw upon power from the Moon."

"Heaven knows," Cecil said, "but though it sounds like the ravings of a madman, he is fixated on his goal, and I don't doubt that this tower has power."

"Well, we'd better stop him," I remarked, with a cheer I certainly didn't feel. We'd come in to try and stymie Golbez by nicking the Crystals, but to no avail. The best we managed was to destroy his weapons and kill his chief strategist and mad scientist.

I only hoped that we could do better before long…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Hope you enjoy, especially with Yang not going through with his senseless sacrifice.**

 **1\. This is what Barret says to Cloud in episode 1 of** ** _Final Fantasy VII Machinabridged_** **when Cloud claims that he knows what he is doing. It's a good series, despite being new and having a somewhat rocky start (episode 2 and its treatment of Tifa is a major bone of contention).**

 **2\. I didn't feel up to writing a battle scene with the Lugae cyborg (Lugae-Z), so I wrote in this line.**


	4. Sympathy for the Devil Chapter 1

**As mentioned before, many of my fanfic ideas that I abandon fall under the 'it was a good idea at the time' banner. Because I was astonished at the success of my first Harry Potter and _Highschool DxD_ crossover, _Fall to Zenith_ , I immediately wanted to do another such crossover. While it started well, I thought, the truth was, many of the reviewers pointed out that I wasn't doing much new, and while I was depressed, I also knew they were right. One day, I will write another Harry Potter/ _Highschool DxD_ crossover, and not just the pending sequel to _Fall to Zenith_. I think _Highschool DxD_ is a rich series for deconstruction and reconstruction.**

 **So, for archive purposes, I present the two posted chapters of _Sympathy for the Devil_.**

* * *

 _ **SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **RIAS**

Harry Potter woke up reluctantly. Not just reluctantly, but with a fog over his most recent memories, along with his mind. He wanted said fog to remain: something told him that amnesia was preferable to recollection. Sadly, memory is a treacherous and fickle bitch, not being there when we need it, and being there when we don't.

Soon, like water filling a glass, memory came back to him. The _joyful_ memories of the past year. His friends and Dumbledore keeping him in the dark. The smear campaign in _The Daily Prophet_. The Dementors and the hearing. Umbridge. Snape and his so-called 'lessons' in Occlumency. The visions from Voldemort's mind, culminating in one with Sirius being captured, or so he thought. The running battle in the Department of Mysteries, all for a prophecy.

Then, Sirius hit by a curse courtesy of his cousin, the insane Bellatrix Lestrange. His staggering towards an archway. Harry rushing to save him, only to get pulled in with him. A moment of oblivion. Then, they were falling, falling through a purple sky. The ground rushing up like some terminal cream pie in the hand of some massive, malicious clown. The realisation he was about to hit a swimming pool. Then, splashdown, like hitting a concrete floor. Pulled from the water, feeling if every bone was broken, by a rather buxom girl with red hair and a skimpy bikini. His last sight, before everything seemed to go dark forever, was of said girl standing over him, giving him a marvellous view of her breasts, as well as of the look of concern on her beautiful face.

Then, in the depths of oblivion, he seemed to hear a tenebrous voice.

" ** _Harry Potter. RISE._** "

Leading to, it seemed, this. It took him a while to go from cataloguing his recollections to analysing sensations. And as he did so, he came to a number of conclusions, a couple of them rather alarming.

1\. He was in bed. Not an unreasonable state of affairs considering he had just been unconscious. But then, you came to the other points, like…

2\. He was naked. He NEVER slept naked. The Dursleys would have beaten him black and blue (not that they didn't anyway) if he had at 4 Privet Drive, while sharing a dorm room with others also would have put a stop to such activities, even if he wanted to. Which he didn't. Concerning though that was, it was compounded by…

3\. Someone else was sharing his bed with him, someone who was also naked, and, judging by the feeling of two fleshy orbs on his upper back, was of the female persuasion to boot. Said someone had him in a gentle embrace. That was one of the few things preventing him from panicking, if only to avoid waking his captor.

4\. The bedroom he was in was somewhat odd. It was plastered with posters of various Japanese franchises, manga and anime of many kinds. Figurines, books, and DVDs were everywhere, albeit organised. And yet, the furnishings were of dark wood and ornately-carved. It had the feel of a bedroom in a mansion, albeit with…what did they call it? An otaku vibe to it.

Deciding that he needed to extricate himself from his current situation before anything further could happen (as compromising as the situation was, he was sure he hadn't lost his virginity to his bedmate, unless she had been nasty enough to do it while he slept, or else used a Memory Charm), he slid out of his bedmate's embrace, and stood up, as calmly as he could.

As he looked around, he heard a gentle chuckle behind him. "Oh, my companion has left the bed," came a voice that was mostly aristocratic, though there was a slight sultry purr to it.

Harry turned to face her. This time, he had a clear view of the girl he had seen in glimpses. Too clear. As he had feared, she didn't have a single stitch on as she sat up, the action doing distracting things to her breasts. Her buxom body was something many a woman would envy having, even if she was about his age. Green-blue eyes twinkled at him in amusement. Her beautiful, aristocratic features were framed by long locks of blood-red hair, hair that reached down to her waist, though it did little to cover her breasts or groin.

Harry stammered, blushing furiously, and feeling aroused, despite himself. Given that his dorm-mates had smuggled in adult magazines on occasion, he wasn't unware of what a nude girl looked like. But it was still embarrassing, all the same. "Umm, we didn't…you didn't…"

"If you think we slept together, we did, but only in the most literal sense of the term," the girl said with a reassuring smile and laughter in her voice. Her accent was very posh, very RP(1). "We didn't have sex. I'm still a virgin, and I'm pretty sure you are too. As for why we are naked, well, I like sleeping like this, to be sure, but you still had plenty of injuries after I saved your life, and my healing magic works best with skin-to-skin contact. Falling from a great height does do a number on you. I'm astonished you didn't die on impact, even when you hit our pool. You and Mr Black." On seeing his astonished look, the girl smiled. "Oh yes, I know who you two are. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, and Sirius Black, the most wanted man in Magical Britain, the supposed traitor to your parents."

"And you are?" Harry asked, trying to keep his mind off her body.

"Rias Gremory. Heir to the House of Gremory."

"That's not a magical family I've ever heard of," Harry said.

"Well, that may be because we're not a wizarding family," Rias said, getting off the bed, and walking over to some clothes on a chair, donning some underwear. "Sorry. Amusing though it is to see you flounder around trying not to look at my body, I know it's making you uncomfortable. I think it's better that we both get dressed before I explain further." She indicated another chair, where some clothes for him were folded up.

Harry did so quickly. Soon, they were both dressed, and Rias indicated for him to sit down in one of the chairs. After he had sat down, Rias, her face becoming more solemn, said, "There's no easy way to tell you this, Harry. You died. Somehow, you ended up crashlanding in the Gremory Mansion's pool, and it was a miracle you were still alive when I dragged you and Sirius Black out. But you died. So too did Sirius. And as astonished as I was to have a couple of celebrities gatecrash a private pool-party I was having for my Peerage, I knew I had to act quickly. I mean, you wanted to live, didn't you?"

Harry nodded, though he got a bad feeling about where Rias was going with this. "…What did you do?"

"I revived you. However, the only way I could do so was by making you my servant. You see, my people can change humans and other entities into our servants, including the freshly deceased. This is going to be a pretty big shock, Harry, so steel yourself." After she gave him a moment to digest the information she had divulged, and to ready himself, she said, "I am a Devil. And as of now, so are you."

Harry's initial response was to stare at her in sheer disbelief. Emotions warred deep within him. Anger. Astonishment. Confusion. Disbelief. Fear. Loathing. But all of those cancelled out, so that all that came from his lips was a rather flat 'huh'. Then, another thought, perhaps a fatuous and also rather bleak one, occurred to him. "The Dursleys always called me a freak. Guess they're right now."

Rias gently reached over and patted his hand consolingly. "Harry, you're _not_ a freak. You're a boy who's gone through a lot of shit in his life. Especially over the past year or so, if _The Daily Prophet_ 's little smear campaign is anything to go by." On seeing his look, Rias nodded. "My family gets a subscription. It gets delivered through Gringotts, as they have permanent contact with the Underworld. You have to sift through a lot of garbage to get to the truth. I found myself wincing a lot at Rita Skeeter's yellow journalism during that Tri-Wizard Tournament mess. Anyway, I know that imbecile Fudge has it out for you and Dumbledore. And I know that Voldemort's still alive. More importantly, I know how."

Harry looked at her for a moment, before saying, "As much as I'd like to know how, what do you mean, I'm your servant?"

"Officially, exactly that. You are part of what is known as my Peerage, an entourage of servants who are under my command, and will fight alongside me if need be. But my Peerage are not like House Elves, if that's what's worrying you. Too many Devils treat their Peerages as House Elves, or worse, as harems of sex-slaves, but I can assure you, I don't. I consider my Peerage to be my friends and family. We'll meet them later. I won't ask you ever to do anything I wouldn't do myself, you have my solemn vow on that." Rias then changed the subject. "Anyway, back to Voldemort. Did you know you had a fragment of his soul in your scar?"

Harry blinked. "No. But…that does explain a lot." Like being able to see through his eyes on occasion, or being a Parselmouth.

"Hmm. Well, Voldemort has been very naughty, to say the least. He has made deals with us before, including my own brother, for power. Now, you'll be surprised to learn that the majority of deals between Devils and humans don't involve souls, but rather, money and valuables, and favours. That being said, Voldemort went the full kit and kaboodle. He sold his soul to my brother, one of the Four Great Satans, the rulers of the Devils. The thing is, Voldemort, being a thanatophobic sort, meaning he fears death, made himself immortal so, amongst other things, he could renege on the deal. A Horcrux is a particularly vile way of going about it. You basically undergo a pretty nasty ritual, murder someone, which splits your soul, and you take one of the fragments of your soul and bung it in a container. Ever read about Koschei the Deathless?" Harry shook his head. "Well, he's thought to be a Horcrux user. Now, Voldemort thought he'd be clever, and make multiple Horcruxes."

"…How do you know this?"

"The fragment of Voldemort's soul in your scar was pretty small, frankly. Judging by the size, he's made, besides you, at least five, not counting you or his original soul. He could have made more since. Now, I said Voldemort thought himself clever in making multiple Horcruxes. In truth, it's a very dangerous and stupid thing to do. Besides destroying your psyche and making your body look hideous, it also renders your soul fragile and unstable. I guess he intended to make a Horcrux with your death back when you were a baby, but when the Killing Curse rebounded off you, his soul broke again, and part of it latched onto you like a leech. When I began changing you into my servant, the Horcrux emerged. Thankfully, I trapped it before it dispersed. My brother was delighted when I sent the Horcrux to him. With a fragment of Voldemort's soul in his possession, he can use a special ritual to drag the rest of Voldemort to the Underworld."

"Just like that?"

"Well, the ritual is somewhat complicated, but it'll work. He wasn't the first idiot to try multiple Horcruxes, though the wizards won't remember some of them. Like Ekrizdiz, the ruler of Azkaban centuries ago, before it was turned into a prison island(2)." Rias chuckled. "Apparently my father had some fun with that foul man."

"Huh. So…Voldemort will be dead?"

"After a protracted period. He'll be in the Underworld, though, and unable to hurt anyone. Whether he'll be hurt is another matter."

"…And Hogwarts?"

"Well, I don't know whether you can go back. There'll be wards able to tell if a Devil came through them, and if you're exposed as a Devil, then you'll be in danger from Angels, Fallen Angels, and Exorcists."

Harry remembered something, and then scowled. "And a lot of people must've seen me and Sirius fall through the Veil in the Department of Mysteries. They'd think us both dead."

"Then there's another good reason to keep away from Hogwarts. I'm not saying you should keep your friends in the dark, but announcing it to Magical Britain will get people talking. And that'll attract attention you don't need. And knowing you, you've already had more than your fair share of unwanted attention." Rias put a hand on his own, in a gesture that was meant to be reassuring. "Harry, I'm sorry to have put you in this position, I really am. But it was either reincarnate you as my servant, or you die."

Harry wasn't sure what to say with that. He felt his anger stirring again, but before he could say anything, an embarrassing growl emitted from his stomach.

Rias chuckled. "Well, I think we'll need to save this conversation for a different time. Come on, we'll have breakfast…"

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **As with** ** _Fall to Zenith_** **, this basically shifts canon forward by a decade. So this chapter takes place in 2006, rather than 1996 (as the canon version of the ending chapters of** ** _The Order of the Phoenix_** **did).**

 **1\. As with** ** _Fall to Zenith_** **, I imagine Rias speaking with a posh British accent, hence RP (or Received Pronunciation, aka the Queen's English). She still uses slang and the like.**

 **2\. Ekrizdiz, while not mentioned in the novels, was discussed by Rowling for Pottermore. Although the Harry Potter Wiki indicates that Voldemort was the first known wizard to try multiple Horcruxes, I decided that he wasn't the first.**


	5. Sympathy for the Devil Chapter 2

_**SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **PEER SUPPORT**

Harry marvelled at the opulence of the house he was led through. Dark woods, decorations of gold, marble, silver, and the like, paintings and sculptures, it was clearly the abode of someone who was sickeningly rich, and didn't mind showing it. "You know, for Hell, this isn't too bad."

"Technically, this isn't Hell. This is the Underworld. There's a difference. Hell is a place of punishment, while the Underworld is the residence of the Devils, as well as the Fallen," Rias said. "You'd be surprised, but most Devils are very like humans, mentally. My brother Sirzechs, for example, is the current holder of the title of Lucifer, and thus the ruler of the Underworld. But you wouldn't know it to look at him. If anything, we're more hedonistic than humans. That's not to say that there aren't Devils like those you hear about: there's far too many of those. But we're as varied as humans in terms of temperament."

"Huh." As they continued, Harry asked, "You said something about resurrecting people as servants like me. How does that work?"

"Quite simple. The Underworld is obsessed with chess. Each high-ranking Devil is given a set of 15 magical chess pieces known as Evil Pieces. Each of these has its own properties. I don't have a chess piece, but I count as a King. While that means I'm the keystone to the whole thing, don't think that makes me weak. I'm the strongest of the Peerage. I have to be."

"I never said you were," Harry said hastily, hoping he hadn't offended her.

"I know. I was just clarifying things. Now, a Knight, which is what I reincarnated you into, emphasises speed and attack power. I have another Knight, Yuuto Kiba. A Bishop, which is what I reincarnated your godfather into, emphasises magical ability. As an experienced wizard, I thought it appropriate. He's my second Bishop. My first, Gasper Vladi, is currently sealed, because he's unable to control his powers. Plus, he's something of a shut-in. If my brother allows it, I might get you to meet him. A Rook emphasises strength and resilience, and my sole Rook is Koneko Toujou. She may not look like she should be a Rook, but appearances can be deceiving. Queens combine the qualities of all of those pieces, and my Queen is Akeno Himejima. Aside from a Queen, I can have two of each of those pieces, as well as eight Pawns. Now, Pawns would be my footsoldiers if I had any, but they also have a special property: Promotion. In enemy territory, or when I give permission, they can become a Rook, Knight, Bishop or Queen."

"So they can become really powerful under special circumstances, right?" Harry asked.

Rias nodded. "And keep in mind, you won't necessarily be my servant forever. Do enough deeds of note, and you'll eventually go up a level. Reach the rank of a high-ranking Devil, and you can get your own Peerage."

They soon came to a dining room. It was presumably one of many, because it wasn't a massive thing, like the sort you'd see in a palace for state occasions. Opulent, yes, but it also felt lived in, and while large, it wasn't huge.

Sirius was seated, holding forth on some matter or another with a young man (or apparently young) with the same blood-red hair as Rias, and dressed in a suit. Seated next to the red-haired young man was a woman with silvery hair and a serene demeanour, dressed in the manner of a maid, and a young boy with red hair.

Around the table were three other people. A short, petite girl, in her early teens at the latest, with silvery hair and golden eyes, her cute face an impassive mask. A handsome, almost beautiful boy about Harry's age with blonde hair. And a dark-haired girl about Rias' age, her face having a gentle smile, and her body even bustier, if that was possible, than Rias'.

The red-haired young man looked up, and smiled warmly. "Ah, good morning, Rias. And Harry Potter, if I'm not mistaken. Welcome to the Gremory Estate. I am Sirzechs Lucifer. This is my wife, Grayfia Lucifuge, and my son Milikas." He indicated the woman in the maid outfit, and the boy respectively.

"As you can tell, Harry, he's a man of wealth and taste," Sirius quipped(1).

Sirzechs chuckled. "Ah, good old Mick Jagger. That song wasn't too bad, though I had little to do with the events they wrote about. Anyway, Sirius was telling me about what had actually happened to him to get sent to Azkaban. It seems a more plausible story, frankly, than him turning traitor on the Potters," Sirzechs said, more for Rias' benefit than anything else. "I guess emotions at the time ran too high for the truth to come out. In any case, it's a moot point. The Veil you two fell through was once a dedicated portal to the Underworld, though if I recall correctly, it became dangerously unstable over a millennium ago, with the exit becoming random. Meaning you could end up safe at your destination, or buried alive underground, or, as you found, dozens of metres up in the air. The original meaning of the portal was lost, and it was thought to be a gateway to the realm of the dead."

Harry nodded, before saying, "So, um, Lord Lucifer?"

"Call me Sirzechs, please. I don't stand on ceremony, as long as you show me respect," Sirzechs said with a kindly smile.

"Okay, umm, are you really the ruler of the Underworld?"

Sirzechs laughed. "Does Dumbledore have an obsession with sherbet lemons? Yeah, I guess I'm not what you're expecting when you think 'ruler of the Devils'. That whole horns and pitchfork thing is so clichéd and gauche, it isn't funny. Actually, my son is sort of a fan of yours. Don't worry, he won't bite."

Harry realised that Milikas was looking at him with barely-concealed interest. He was reminded a little of Colin Creevey, albeit with less hero-worship and more restraint. "Hey," he said to the kid in a friendly tone. He then returned his gaze to Sirzechs. "So, have you done anything to Voldemort's Horcrux yet?"

"No, not yet. Ajuka Beelzebub is preparing the ritual even as we speak. He's like me, one of the Four Great Satans, in charge of research and development. Has Rias told you of the Evil Piece system?" Harry nodded. "Ajuka was the one who developed it. He's also one of those who maintains our libraries of spells and rituals."

"Sirzechs, we have that meeting with Lady Leviathan before long," Grayfia said calmly.

"Ah. Damn," Sirzechs said, finishing the cup of coffee he was drinking hastily. "Serafall doesn't like to be kept waiting, and then I've got to supervise Ajuka doing the ritual. Sorry, Harry. We'll have to talk another time. A pleasure to meet you, regardless. By the way, Rias, we're finalising the transfer papers for you and your Peerage to go to Kuoh Academy. We'll have to make arrangements for Harry and Sirius, though, with Sirius needing to be a staff member of some kind. And regarding that other matter…" At this, Harry saw Rias look hopeful. "I'm sorry, it's out of my hands." As Rias' face fell, Sirzechs clarified, "He loves you, but Father's being stubborn, and as Lucifer, I can't be seen to be too partial to you, or else Riser will pitch a fit. That being said, adding Harry and Sirius to your Peerage seems rather auspicious. A Rating Game is the only real way you can resolve the issue, so I'd suggest preparing for that event. Hopefully, it'll be a couple of years before you'll have to resort to that."

After a moment, Rias said, "Brother, I had a thought. Do you think Harry might be able to reach Gasper, help him control his power enough so that I can bring him fully into the Peerage?"

Sirzechs frowned as he stood, his wife and son doing so as well. "I'll consider the matter. We've been keeping an eye on Harry for some time, actually, especially at his residence away from Hogwarts. It may not be such a bad idea. Grayfia, darling, could you please take Milikas back home?"

"Yes, Sirzechs." The three Devils stepped onto a pair of glowing red sigils that appeared out of thin air, Sirzechs on one, and Grayfia and Milikas on another. They said their farewells, and then left.

Harry, meanwhile, was shown to a seat, and as he sat, Rias indicated the others. "Harry, these are the members of my Peerage. This is my Queen, Akeno Himejima." This was the buxom dark-haired girl. "My first Knight, Yuuto Kiba." This was the blonde-haired handsome boy. "And my Rook, Koneko Toujou." This was the silvery-haired petite girl with the golden eyes, and he noticed she had been giving Sirius some dirty looks.

Harry looked at Koneko. "You're right, Rias. I would not have picked her for a Rook. She's quite the cute one. Why is she giving Sirius the stink-eye?"

It was Koneko who answered, indicating Sirius. "He smells of scruffy dog," Koneko said in a quiet monotone.

"Ah," Rias said. "Must be a Dog Animagus, right?" On seeing Sirius' shocked look, Rias smiled. "Koneko has a sensitive sense of smell, and her people don't like dogs very much."

Sirius blinked, before he peered at Koneko. "Hang a moment, are you a _nekomata?_ "

Koneko looked startled, before reluctantly nodding. "What's a _nekomata?_ " Harry asked.

"A form of magical being known as a _youkai_ in Japan. Specifically, she's a cat _youkai_ ," Sirius explained. "When she's in her _nekomata_ form, she'll have two tails and a pair of cat ears. Though judging by her expression, she's not exactly a fan of looking like that."

"You are correct, Mr Black," Rias said.

"Call me Sirius. Mr Black was my bastard of a father."

"Okay, Sirius. Each member of my Peerage to date have had painful pasts. Digging those pasts up is not what I want, or any member of my Peerage wants," Rias said. "If they want to, they'll talk to you about it. For Koneko, part of it is her heritage."

Sirius nodded. "That's fine, I can live with that. But what was that stuff your brother was talking about?"

"That's personal. I'll discuss it with you later on, when I'm better acquainted with you two. Let's just say that I'm in a situation where I'll need your help before long."

"Ah, a fair maiden in distress needs the help of a Knight in shining armour, and a Bishop," Sirius said with a grin.

"Amongst other things," Rias said. "It's less that I'm in distress, and more than I'm in a rather precarious position. As I said, I'll discuss it later. Now, I go to school in the real world, but I'm between schools. I've decided to attend Kuoh Academy in Japan, where one of my friends, Souna Sitri, attends. It used to be an all-girls' school, but it recently became co-ed, and that means I can bring Kiba and Gasper, as well as you two. I'm looking to establish an Occult Research Club as a base of operations. Between Souna and I, we will be policing Kuoh Town and Kuoh Academy."

"Policing it against what?" Sirius asked. "Stray Devils?"

"Mostly, yes. You seem to know much about us, Sirius, though given your family's reputation of being steeped in the Dark Arts, I guess that's not surprising."

Sirius scoffed. "They made me read up on the basics of Devil society when I was young, before they kicked me out. Strays, the Evil Piece system, the Four Great Satans, the Great Wars, that sort of thing."

"That's true, though we'll also be keeping an eye out for Fallen Angels and Stray Exorcists. We don't attack them unless they provoke us, lest another war break out. In addition, I hope to find more members for my Peerage. If I have to undergo a Rating Game to resolve…that issue, then I'll have to have a stronger Peerage."

"Rating Game?" Harry asked.

It was Sirius who answered again. "A Rating Game is like a contest for Devils, matching Peerage against Peerage in pitched battle. It's used both as a competitive sport and as a way to settle disputes. From what I heard, you can go all-out in a Rating Game because it takes place in a pocket dimension, and when injuries get too much, you're taken out."

"Top marks again, Sirius," Rias said. "There's an upcoming dispute I need to settle in a couple of years, and I'll need your help. As I said, this is all I'll say on the matter for the time being."

Sirius peered at Rias, before nodding. "Actually, your brother told me a little about what was going on. I'll fill Harry in. Don't worry, I'm more than willing to help. The guy in question sounds like a Malfoy, only with actual power to back it up."

"Then I'm very glad to hear it, Sirius," Rias said with a smile, a smile of relief and gratitude. And Harry felt some of his apprehension about his new life melt away at the thought. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Harry's met the Peerage, plus Rias' brother and his family.**

 **1\. A reference to the lyrics of** ** _Sympathy for the Devil_** **, the famous song by the Rolling Stones.**


	6. The Uncertainty Principle Chapter 1

**Given the success of my Harry Potter/ _Hellsing_ crossover, I thought I'd do another one. At least one reviewer wanted a Harry/** **Schrödinger pairing. Hence this. I may not write slash, but genderflipped characters are a different matter. As with _Haemophilia_ , this had its origins in one of sakurademonalchemist's works. I was inspired by _A Deal Made in Good Faith_ , primarily a crossover between Harry Potter and _Supernatural_ , but it has elements from _Ghost Rider_ and _Hellsing_ , with ****Schrödinger becoming an ally of the female Harry in that story. Here, he becomes her love interest, and they share origins.  
**

 **This story had a troubled genesis, going through a few different versions. This one is the one I'm most satisfied with so far, but I'm still not sure whether it has legs, so I'm posting the first three chapters of the current version of _The_ _Uncertainty Principle_ for your perusal.**

* * *

 _ **THE UNCERTAINTY PRINCIPLE**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **CAIT SÌTH**

 _There are many variations of the same story, of the child of the Potters. Who is a villain, and who is a hero, varies between each telling of the story. But there is almost always a cottage at Godric's Hollow. There is almost always a prophecy, engineered or not. There are two old men, one who fell into darkness in pursuit of power and immortality, the other who dances so close to the edge, sometimes, he falls into the darkness too, and other times, he stays in the light._

 _This is not one of the stories where he stays in the light. This is one of those stories where he uses the light to blind people to the darkness within. A darkness that drives him to be a Dark Lord from within the light._

 _And there is a child. In this story, it's a girl. Even if she isn't human. A girl on whom the fate of an entire society rests. One who will become famous through tragedy._

 _Where it begins is tricky. It could begin in Wallachia, centuries ago, where a man with a dark past becomes a monster. It could begin when an English lawyer makes a fateful journey to Transylvania. It could begin with an argument between two brothers, a sister, and a charismatic young man. It could begin when an inbred witch, desperate to escape her impoverished life, ensnares a local landowner with a love potion, and out of a loveless union, a child is born. It could begin during the Second World War, where, while two wizards clash against each other, an ancient vampire and a teenaged assassin attack a Nazi facility in Warsaw, Poland. It could begin where a couple, desperate for a child of their own, willingly adopt a baby girl who isn't even human, while half a world away, a boy of the same species is born into the custody of a surviving group of fanatics. It could begin when a girl is left on a cold doorstep by a meddling old man with, in this story at least, less than benign motives. It could begin when a young girl, desperate to save herself from a treacherous uncle, manages to revive an ancient monster, who swears itself to her service._

 _Where to begin the story? That is, indeed, the question. Perhaps we should start at the time when a girl met a boy. Like many such meetings, it happened quite by accident and coincidence, and yet, catalysed something greater. It begins with the girl fleeing her home, and her relatives, not knowing that bonds on her all her life, bonds which had been rotting since she was nearly killed by a Basilisk, were about to snap…_

* * *

Rose Potter knew she was in trouble. She was stranded, lugging a huge trunk through the darkened Magnolia Crescent, and may be on the verge of being expelled from Hogwarts after turning that vile woman she was forced to call Aunt Marge into a human zeppelin. And something had felt different for a while. It had done ever since the Basilisk bit her as she killed it, ever since Fawkes watched on, seemingly letting her die, despite her desperation not to…

…Only for her to survive. One moment she was dead, and the next, she was alive, albeit with black smoke pouring out of her scar, screaming, and the shade of Tom Riddle staring at her incredulously. And shortly after killing the spirit within the diary, the Sorting Hat had remarked rather enigmatically that she was being set free, and told her to tell everyone that Fawkes had used Phoenix tears on her wounds.

She didn't understand what she had begun to feel during the weeks she had spent at Privet Drive. At first, she thought it was part of puberty hitting her. After all, she had recently gone through her menarche (and Aunt Petunia, for once, had been merciful enough to buy hygiene products for her). But she got the feeling this was something else.

It felt like something within her was straining to get free. Like parts of her that were missing for the longest time. One thing she had was very good (even supernatural) night vision, and an extremely good sense of smell. Sometimes, Hermione would claim that Rose's irises seemed to glow gently in the dark of the dorm, like luminescent emeralds. Hermione would tell Rose that she reminded her of a cat at times, alternating between playful and unsociable. Rose was struck by the comparison, especially as Luna Lovegood, a Ravenclaw who had come to Hogwarts last year and was a friend of Ginny's, made enigmatic comments about Rose and cats.

Rose was definitely a cat person. If Hagrid hadn't gotten her Hedwig, then she would have gotten a cat at Diagon Alley. She even got along with Mrs Norris, Filch's cat, and she had, if not a friendship, then a more cordial relationship with the Squib than almost any other student in the school thanks to that. It was almost as if she understood what Mrs Norris was saying.

As she came to a stop, exhausted, she contemplated her options, given that she was up a certain creek without a paddle. It was while she was considering becoming an outcast, using her money to fund a life in exile, that she sensed something nearby. She could smell something…something between dog and man. And she didn't know why that came to mind. She turned carefully, her eyes roving the dark, until she froze upon looking between the alley and garage. She could see faintly what looked like a massive black dog. And its eyes, shining in the darkness, were _looking at her_.

She was frozen in place as it trotted up to her. Even in the darkness, she could see that, although large, there was something vaguely pitiable about it. It looked emaciated, with matted fur. But she was still wary. Her instincts were screaming at her.

Suddenly, the dog shifted, and changed. Where a mangy dog once stood, an emaciated, ragged man, with matted black hair and a beard. His grey eyes danced feverishly. With a thrill of horror, Rose recognised him as the escaped murderer she had seen briefly on television, Black if she recalled his name.

For a moment, they stood staring at each other, Rose frightened out of her wits at having an escaped murderer facing her down. And if he had changed from a dog, what were the odds that he was a wizard?

Then, the man asked, in a hoarse voice, "…Rose?"

Shit, he knew who she was. Then again, given the scar…

"Stay away from me," she hissed in fear. She wanted to be anywhere but here. She only distantly noticed that the look on his face was not of someone trying to attack her, but of concern. The rest of her wanted to get away.

Suddenly, something broke within her. Suddenly, a power flooded right through her, and it felt natural, like it belonged, even as it seemed to overwhelm her. It was as if she was spread out across the world, no, the _universe_ , and she could be anywhere she wanted to be.

And so, she _leapt_.

* * *

Sirius Black stared at the empty space where his goddaughter used to be. For a moment, he was merely astonished. Then, he realised something. Just before she vanished (and without the distinctive crack of Apparition), he thought he glimpsed a pair of cat ears appearing from beneath her messy mop of black hair.

It took a moment for him to process it, before a long-buried memory rose from its grave. A painful, rueful smile touched his lips. He only hoped that his goddaughter would be safe, wherever she ended up…

* * *

When she was young, Rose, in order to escape Dudley and his merry little band of bullies, had teleported up to the roof of the school. She had been slapped around by her uncle and thrown into the cupboard for that. When she discussed the incident with Hermione and Ron during their first year, Ron had called it Apparition, with Hermione speculating that it was perhaps accidental magic. But some part of Rose knew that they were wrong.

She found herself in a library of what looked like an old mansion. Rose knew that Hermione would be drooling at the arrays of books on dark wooden shelves. She certainly was. She wasn't quite as overt about being a bookworm as Hermione was (and to be fair, Rose preferred reading fiction to textbooks, whereas Hermione was equally at home with both), but she was definitely a bibliophile, and for a moment, she facetiously wondered whether she had died and gone to heaven.

"Rose?"

The voice came from behind her, and she whirled to face it, idly wondering why her ears felt different. There was a painting on the nearby wall, and she recognised two of the people on it. One was a young man with a shaggy mess of black hair and hazel eyes. The other was a young woman with red hair and emerald eyes. Her parents. She recognised them from the photo album that Hagrid had given her at the end of her first year.

But the third person was another matter entirely.

Rose realised, with a shock, that she resembled this third person, a seemingly-young and very beautiful woman, more than she resembled her parents. The woman seemed to be in her twenties, with a messy shock of black hair, green eyes that almost glowed, and dressed rather casually. Her parents were dressed, while not formally, a bit more conservatively, whereas the woman was dressed in jeans and a shirt. The shirt had Hello Kitty on it(1). Which, in a way, was rather appropriate.

After all, the woman seemed to have a pair of cat ears poking through her hair. And was that a _tail_ protruding from a hole in the woman's jeans?

"Mum? Dad?" Rose asked in a quiet voice.

The three people smiled at her warmly, though the cat-eared woman then looked at the other two. "I think we'd better ease her in. We need to find out what happened, first. She should have been here ages ago," the woman said with a musical voice that had an Irish lilt to it.

Lily nodded, before looking at Rose. "Rose, darling…who's been raising you? Please tell me it's Padfoot…I mean, Sirius."

"Sirius? No, it was your sister and her family," Rose said bitterly.

James Potter facepalmed. "Ugh, you called it, Lily. That old goat wouldn't leave it alone. I'll bet he's sealed our wills, too. He _knew_ we didn't want Rose to go to that horse-faced hag! That's what Padfoot was for!"

"Who is that?" Rose asked. Was she meant to go with someone else all this time?

"Sirius Black," Lily explained.

Rose's eyes widened. "That escaped convict…the one on the TV…I was meant to go with him?!"

"Convict…oh, _shit_ ," the cat-eared woman said, facepalming herself. "Looks like your diversionary tactic backfired. Pettigrew must've framed him. Bastard."

"Catriona(2), language," Lily said. "I told you not to swear in front of Rose, remember?"

"Look, can someone please tell me what's going on?" Rose demanded.

The three of them looked at each other, before they nodded. And so, they began to tell her what she needed to know…

"Okay, so let me get this straight: because of some prophecy uttered by the current Divination teacher of Hogwarts, Voldemort targeted me. We went into hiding using something called the Fidelius Charm, where only the Secret Keeper could tell people where we were hiding. Sirius Black claimed to be the Secret Keeper as a decoy, but it was actually Peter Pettigrew, who must have betrayed you, and he somehow framed Sirius. I'm currently in the Potter Manor. Have I got that right?" Rose asked.

"Yes," James said. "I thought something was up when nobody came here. Well, apart from one person, that squatter who sometimes comes here. But Rose…there's more to this." He pointed over at a mirror Rose hadn't noticed. "Have a look in the mirror."

Rose did so, and recoiled upon looking into it. She looked different now. After all, she was certain she hadn't had cat ears before, poking out through her hair. She reached up, and gently tugged on them. Yep, very real.

Catriona now spoke. "This might be hard for you to grasp, Rose…but James and Lily are not your parents, at least not by blood, anyway. You're not human, Rose. Not wholly, anyway, thanks to the adoption potion James and Lily gave you. _I_ am your mother. Like me, you are a Cat Sìth."

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Rose is at the Potter Manor, and she has just learned that she isn't human. Now, what does this have to do with** ** _Hellsing_** **, I hear you guys ask? Read on and find out. Schrödinger will make an appearance before long, and so too will Alucard and Integra, though not until later for those two.**

 **In** ** _Haemophilia_** **, Schrödinger was more of an experimental hybrid between human, cat, and House Elf. Here, he (along with Rose) are Cat Sìth. I'm taking some liberties with the original legends of the Cat Sìth, but it helps. Not all Cat Sìth have powers like Schrödinger (or Rose, as we'll find out). And keep in mind that Fawkes let Rose 'die' in order for her powers to be re-awakened. Fawkes is most definitely on Rose's side. The Basilisk venom merely triggered her ability (like Schrödinger) to undo her own death. We'll explain that later.**

 **1.** ** _Hello Kitty_** **made its debut in the Seventies, so it's not out of the question for Catriona to be wearing a T-shirt.**

 **2\. Catriona is pronounced 'Katrina'. Gotta love the Irish language. It means 'pure', though I chose it for the bad cat pun. Hey, it was either that or Leona, and I wanted an Irish name.**


	7. The Uncertainty Principle Chapter 2

_**THE UNCERTAINTY PRINCIPLE**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **FUSCHIA AND EMERALD**

Rose stared at the painting in sheer incomprehension. Taking advantage of her silence, James said, "I know this is a bit of a shock. Not many people knew that you weren't actually our child. Outside of Sirius and Remus, only Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall knew that you weren't our child. I was hit with a curse that rendered me sterile when fighting the Death Eaters."

"My own husband willingly joined Voldemort," Catriona said. "I knew Professor McGonagall, and through her, James and Lily. I became unofficially known as a Marauder shortly after they graduated from Hogwarts."

Rose nodded. James and Lily had told her about the Marauders while explaining about Sirius and Pettigrew, along with Remus Lupin, a werewolf associate of them. "So, why did you give me to the Potters?"

"I got a curse myself. When I killed my husband, your biological father, he placed a curse on me with his dying breath. I had a choice to make: either save myself, and cause your death, or else allow the curse to progress beyond the point of no return so that I could give birth to you. I made the decision. The Potters were delighted to have you. They just wished it wasn't at my expense."

"And what is a Cat Sìth?" Rose asked.

"The term literally means 'fairy cat', and is used to denote a cat that walks upright. In truth, we look more like humans than cats, with magical affinities that grant us special abilities, in addition to magical ability like those of wizards and witches. I, for example, had an affinity with electricity, or rather, electromagnetism. You, however, have what is the rarest affinity of all: 'void', or, if you'd prefer, 'potentiality'. Astonishingly, two had been born with this affinity this century. It's rare for one to even be born in one century."

"What does void affinity mean?"

Lily smiled. "There's an old saying that 'nature abhors a vacuum'. Like Catriona said, a better term would be 'potentiality', because where there's nothing, something has to exist eventually."

Catriona nodded, before adding, "The first thing about having such an affinity is that you're immortal, especially where accidents or malice are concerned, as long as you have the will to live, to perceive that you are alive and unharmed. You'll grow until you are an adult, and then, you'll simply cease to age. There are ways to kill one such as yourself, but they require someone to know what you are."

Rose suddenly had a flashback to the Basilisk. "That's why Fawkes let me die from the Basilisk venom."

"Fawkes? Dumbledore's Phoenix? Wait, what, a _Basilisk?!_ " Lily demanded.

Catriona, meanwhile, while she looked shocked, she also looked thoughtful. "Basilisk venom can destroy many things, though a Cat Sìth with a potentiality affinity isn't one of them. If anything, it would have destroyed any enchantments or bindings on you, or at least weakened them terminally. Maybe that's why Fawkes did so. We'll get back to that later. Now, I said one of your abilities was near-immortality and invincibility. The other is being able to go literally anywhere. It's like Apparition, the wizarding teleportation ability, only stronger and more versatile. As long as you can envision a destination, and you'll be able to see where you're going first so you don't end up in danger, you can go there, anti-Apparition wards be damned. As you can imagine, that's a powerful ability. You are effectively everywhere, and nowhere."

"We'll talk about that later," Lily said. "Rose, I need to know…what has happened to you? Why did you have to fight a Basilisk of all things?!"

Rose sighed quietly. This was going to be a long story…

Once she had finished telling her tale, her parents, adoptive and biological, were livid. James Potter had a major scowl on his face, while Rose's mothers both had this eerily calm look on their face. Rose, however, knew that they were angry, and not with her. They were furious with the Dursleys, with Snape, and especially Dumbledore.

"But I don't understand! Why are you so angry with Dumbledore?" Rose demanded.

"Besides leaving you with the Dursleys? If you were actually of our blood, then maybe he'd have an excuse: he could have used blood wards to help protect you, as long as you stayed with someone with my blood," Lily said. "And even then, there are so many others you could have stayed with. Even if Sirius was in prison, and Remus was excluded because he was a werewolf, there's others, like the Longbottoms, the Bones family…at the very least, Dumbledore has made some pretty poor decisions," Lily said. "Leaving you with the Dursleys is just one of them, especially if there have been bindings on you that the Basilisk bite released. I fear something else, though. But enough about him for the time being. You're home now, where you should be, and damn the Dursleys. Of course, there's another thing to consider."

Catriona nodded. "We set this painting up with a special charm that would bring you here when your powers were unleashed, just in case, so when you teleported from somewhere, you'd come here. But it's a fairly general charm, like a homing beacon to all Cat Sìth with a void affinity."

"You mentioned there's another like me, with the same ability, though it is rare," Rose said, trying to take her mind off the accusations against Dumbledore.

"Yes. He was born shortly after you were. I know this because I was on holiday in Brazil with his family when he was kidnapped, and his parents killed. It was one last holiday before I died of the curse. I fled back to England using a Portkey when I couldn't find him. About a year ago, he ended up here. It was horrible, what his kidnappers had done to him."

"Had they tortured him?"

"Worse," Catriona said. "When he first appeared, he was wearing the uniform of the _Hitlerjugend_ , better known as the Hitler Youth, the sole youth organisation of the Nazis, and a paramilitary group. He has been back here multiple times, and we've managed to get his story out of him, such as it is. During the Second World War, there was a group of Nazis who intended to weaponise vampires and other supernatural creatures, working in Warsaw. Their operation was destroyed by members of the Hellsing Organisation."

"Hellsing is also known as the Royal Order of Protestant Knights, and was founded by Abraham van Helsing, one of the men instrumental in defeating Count Dracula," Lily said.

"Wait, Dracula was real?" Rose asked.

"Yes, he was, and he was a vampire, albeit later in his life," James said. "However, unlike the book, instead of killing Dracula forever, van Helsing managed to bind him as a servant to his bloodline. The Potter family were amongst those van Helsing consulted in experimenting on Dracula, who was renamed 'Alucard', to enhance his strength. Alucard was one of those sent to destroy the Nazi experiments in Warsaw. But many of the key personnel of that Nazi group escaped to Brazil, where they became known as 'Millennium'. This was the group that kidnapped the other Cat Sìth with your affinity."

"Fortunately, while the indoctrination Millennium put him through was pretty thorough, I don't think he's beyond redemption. I think he's beginning to have doubts about his mission, now that he has this place to…well, be a kid in."

"Plus, he's practically a Marauder," James said with a smile. "Apparently he's quite the prankster in Millennium. Serves them right. They're trying to ensure he will sacrifice his existence for the cause."

"I thought you said that those of us with a void affinity cannot die or be killed normally," Rose said.

"Yes, but there are some exceptions. One of them is if a vampire feeds on your blood, or at least an older one. You see, vampires can absorb the souls of their victims if they wish, rather like Dementors. But unlike Dementors, who merely feed on souls, the vampires actually can use the souls as their own army of familiars. Someone like Alucard would have millions of souls within them. But if a Cat Sìth with a void affinity is absorbed by a vampire…well, your ability depends on your ability to assert your own existence. Imagine doing that while amongst so many other souls. You would sink into the void, and take with you the vampire that fed on you," Catriona said. "Millennium wants to defeat Alucard for once and for all, using the other Cat Sìth as the means. He doesn't deserve to die like that."

"Are you sure?" Rose asked. "You said he belongs to a Nazi organisation, and you know that Voldemort…"

"Yes, I know. But I think it's because he doesn't know any better. And I think he's also been magically bound to someone in Millennium, possibly given potions. Sadly, we gave our House Elves away to others shortly before we went into hiding, or else we'd ask them to try and remove the binding," Lily said.

"We can help by giving you a purgative potion to give to him first," Catriona said. "I'd suggest taking that purgative first, it flushes you of any potentially harmful potions."

"There's some under a stasis charm in the potions cupboard in the kitchen," Lily said. "Just make sure you're close to a sink or a bucket when you drink it. If there's anything in you, you'll be vomiting it up."

"Great," Rose remarked sourly. Still, might as well get this over and done with.

Finishing vomiting into the sink, Rose wiped her mouth, and glared angrily at the results as she washed it down. Son of a bitch, she HAD been dosed with potions!

There was another portrait with her parents in it, as they had shifted to this one's frame. Lily was scowling. "Judging by the colours, there was a compulsion potion and a suppression potion in you, and they've been in you for some time."

"English, please?" Rose rasped.

"A compulsion potion is often keyed to a single person, and foments near-complete loyalty to that person. The effects are like the Imperius Curse, but more subtle."

"Imperius?"

"Mind-control spell," Lily said apologetically. "The suppression potion suppresses…well, intelligence, magical and physical ability. Both potions have been used together by the darkest of families to control their servants and even unruly family members. The Blacks had been notorious for using them until the beginning of this century. I remember Sirius saying that his mother wanted to go back to the 'good old days'. It'll be some time before the effects wear off completely."

"I don't want to go through that ever again," Rose said emphatically. She looked at the exquisitely-crafted bottle sitting there, looking like some elaborate alcohol bottle, like the scotch bottles Vernon had. There was a half-filled glass of the potion she had already drunk from, a clear water-like liquid, next to the bottle.

"You shouldn't have to," Catriona said. "This is your home now, as it should have been. You won't have to go back to the Dursleys ever again."

Before she could say anything, the door to the kitchen opened, and Rose found herself looking at a boy about her own age walking in. She froze, and so did he. He cocked his head after a moment, peering at her, his ears twitching. Yes, he had cat-like ears, like her own, protruding from a messy mop of blonde hair. His face was cute, even slightly feminine, and she would learn that it often had a smile or a smirk on it. He was dressed in a uniform that Rose would later learn was a _Hitlerjugend_ or Hitler Youth uniform, with a beige shirt and dark shorts, a black tie and epaulettes, and an armband with a swastika on it. But his most striking features were his eyes, a beautiful fuchsia colour that seemed to shine faintly.

After a moment, he said, in a lilting voice that still carried a Teutonic accent, "That is rather naughty of you, Fraulein, raiding the liquor cupboard." He smirked as he reached for the glass, sniffed it, and then drank it. "Hmm, a bit bitter. They won't let me drink back at home. I have to wonder why."

"Drinking's bad for you," Rose said. "And that wasn't alcohol. That's a purgative potion."

" _Was zum Tiefel?!_ " the boy demanded. Suddenly, he heaved, and rushed over to the sink. It was kind of funny to see the boy begin puking copiously into the sink, his eyes comically wide. After nearly a minute of this, he eventually stopped, and then glared at Rose. " _Verdammt Scheisse!_ What did you do that for?!"

"You were the one who drank the potion without asking what it was."

The boy suddenly seemed to notice her ears properly, or at least it seemed to occur to him to ask. "…Fraulein, why do you have ears like mine?"

"Because she's like you," Catriona said from her portrait. "Rose, this is Schrödinger. Schrödinger, this is my daughter, Rose Potter. You're both Cat Sìths. Now play nice, kids."

Once more, Schrödinger cocked his head quizzically. And Rose had to wonder what the hell she had gotten herself into now…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **And here you have it, at long last: Rose meeting Schrödinger. And in case you're wondering how it was so easy for Schrödinger to drink the potion, well, Kouta Hirano does put in quite a bit of humour into** ** _Hellsing_** **, and I thought that very much like Schrödinger. He's very much like that mischievous sort of cat that ends up exploring or playing with something, only to get hurt or embarrassed (or both) in the process. His immortality doesn't help matters either. I think of him as being a little klutzy. This does show a little in** ** _Hellsing_** **: witness him losing his handbook for Millennium's invasion.**

 **Anyway, the stage has been set for Schrödinger to defect from Millennium.**

 **No numbered annotations for this chapter.**


	8. The Uncertainty Principle Chapter 3

_**THE UNCERTAINTY PRINCIPLE**_

 **CHAPTER 3:**

 **SCHRÖDINGER**

With a groan, fuchsia eyes flickered open. The blonde boy with the cat ears stretched and yawned on his bed, morning amnesia mercifully giving him ignorance about his situation until he finished going to the toilet. Then, he walked out, a frown marring his cute features. He was dressed only in pyjamas, a little oversized, but it was the best he could do. According to the nametag, they belonged to an 'S Black', presumably from when he was a teenager.

Schrödinger realised he had a void within him. It took him a moment to realise what that absence meant. There were all those feelings towards Millennium, towards the Major and the Doctor. Towards the ideals of National Socialism, as well as the ideal of total war for its own sake. Loyalty to those, above all others. And the honour of sacrificing himself to defeat the ultimate vampire, Alucard.

Anger filled that void for a moment. He had been robbed of those wonderful, wonderful feelings, tricked by that dark-haired bitch with the emerald eyes. And he wanted them back! He wanted them back RIGHT NOW!

Then, he realised that not everything had changed. His feelings of friendship towards the Captain, and towards Rip van Winkle, the only two in Millennium he could call friends. They were still there. The desire for pranks towards the Major and the Doctor, and Zorin and Alhambra, not to mention the collection of coprolites(1) known as the Old Men of the Opera House. The sharing of dirty jokes with Jan Valentine, despite Rip's admonishments that he was too young to know such things.

Last night, he hadn't spent much time after taking the potion being awake. He had headed to the bedroom he habitually slept in whenever he visited this place. Even so, his thoughts had been filled with those of the girl he had encountered.

His keen nose smelt something in the air. Something cooking. And whatever it was, it smelt delicious. His stomach growled, and he realised he needed some breakfast.

As he dressed, he hesitated before he donned the shirt of his _Hitlerjugend_ uniform. It only just occurred to him that he had only really worn this uniform for the past few years of his life, pyjamas and the rare occasion where he was allowed to dress in mufti. After a moment, he found a T-shirt with AC/DC on it. An Australian rock band, if he recalled. Jan was fond of it, much to Rip van Winkle's annoyance, as she preferred opera (and _Der Freischütz_ in particular), though the Captain seemed to enjoy it.

After getting dressed, he walked to the kitchen, where the smell was coming from, just in time to have the girl put a pair of plates on a nearby table, with toast, bacon, and fruit. The table was meant for servants in this manor, but it seemed that the girl didn't care. Considering she cooked it, it wasn't surprising. "Oh, hi. I'm sorry, I didn't know what to get you."

" _Dafür nicht_ , Fraulein," Schrödinger said. "It smells delightful."

The girl laughed a little bitterly. "You're the first person to actually compliment my cooking, to my face, anyway. My relatives never did, and anyone I cooked for on their behalf never knew I did the cooking."

Schrödinger frowned. Her name came back to him. Rose Potter. Then, an association. The Girl Who Lived. It was actually a shock to see her as one of his kind. Then again, he'd been surprised to find out he even had a kind when he came here for the first time and encountered the portrait of the Potters and Catriona. He'd always thought Doc had put him together in a lab.

She had a messy shock of black hair, framing a pretty, if a bit thin-looking face. Her eyes were like emeralds, in a way that meant describing them meant venturing dangerously into the territory of purple prose. A jagged, lightning bolt-shaped scar snaked out from beneath her fringe. And protruding from her head were a pair of cat ears.

"Would you like tea? Fruit juice? Water?"

"Water would be fine, Fraulein, as long as it doesn't have any potions in it," Schrödinger said politely. He actually felt like it, as this girl was treating him fairly nicely. Plus, her breakfast smelled nice. And so did she. He could smell her even beneath all that smell of the breakfast.

"Sorry about that, I just had to take that potion myself," Rose said. "I mean, Catriona said I should try and get you to take some, but you did it all yourself. What did you think it was?"

Schrödinger shrugged. "Vodka. Or maybe _Klarer(_ _2)_." Rip van Winkle, Zorin, and Jan Valentine had promised to get him drunk for his 14th birthday, a little over a year from now. It was probably going to be his last birthday, given the plan. Still didn't mean he wasn't curious about what it tasted like.

"Why would you want to drink at your age?" Rose asked.

"Curiosity."

"And you know what that killed. Or made vomit copiously, anyway."

" _Danke_. I needed that reminder," Schrödinger said a little bitterly.

"That's why I made breakfast. Think of it as an apology. I used that potion myself, and I didn't like it either."

* * *

They spent the time eating breakfast in silence. Schrödinger had to admit, it was pretty good. So as apologies went, it was all right. And there was a small part of him that said, _Why do you need an apology? All she did was set you free_.

After she took the plates away, Schrödinger said, "So, you're the Girl Who Lived, huh? Even Millennium are aware of you, though they wouldn't know that you're like me."

"How would a Nazi remnant know of me?"

"There are plenty of mages on the staff, Fraulein. You are famous throughout the wizarding world. You know, if you have the same affinity as I, this explains a lot about how you survived the Killing Curse," Schrödinger said.

Catriona, in the painting on the wall, said, "Actually, the powers come to the fore during childhood, not infancy. We knew she had an affinity not from her using those powers, but because of a simple testing charm. Lily used an obscure ritual to protect Rose. In exchange for sacrificing her life, Rose got protection from Voldemort. Sadly, it also made her famous."

"I wish it hadn't," Rose said bitterly. And Schrödinger was struck by the clear implication that she detested her fame.

Suddenly, a beautiful white owl flew in, with what looked like a newspaper clutched in its talons. "Hedwig!" Rose said with a smile. She had some leftover bacon, which she gave to the owl as she took the newspaper away. "She came in last night shortly after you went to bed," she explained. She started reading the newspaper, and sighed a quiet sigh of relief. "I guess they were right. I'm not being expelled."

Schrödinger got up from the table, and peered over her shoulder at what she read.

 **ROSE POTTER MISSING!**

 _After an altercation with her Muggle relatives that ended with the Obliviators and Accidental Magic Reversal Squad being called in, Rose Potter has fled her home in Surrey. It is understood, given a statement from Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge, that Potter, 13, had been insulted by a Muggle aunt, ignorant of her parents' heroic sacrifice, and in a fit of anger-fuelled accidental magic, inflated her already corpulent aunt. Rose Potter then fled for parts unknown._

 _In light of the recent escape of mass-murderer Sirius Black from Azkaban, and the possibility that he may be targeting Rose Potter, the Minister has stated that any penalty for her accidental magic has been waived. Instead, he has made a plea, one which all of us at_ The Daily Prophet _make as well. Please, let us know you are safe, Rose Potter_.

There was other parts to the article, but Schrödinger didn't pay them much heed. Rose was chewing at a fingernail pensively. "I'll have to send someone a letter about Sirius Black. My parents claimed that he's innocent, that Peter Pettigrew was the Secret Keeper."

Catriona, from her portrait, said, "I would send two such letters. One to the Minister, and the other to the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The last we heard anything, that dried-up old turd Crouch got kicked out of the DMLE, and Amelia Bones got in. She's reasonable."

Rose nodded, before she frowned. "By the way, what are Dementors? Only, according to this article, Fudge is sending them from Azkaban to Hogwarts."

Catriona paled, and Schrödinger, who admittedly didn't know that much about the wizarding world, knew enough about Dementors to be afraid. He shuddered. "Fraulein," he said quietly, "there are few ways that Cat Sìth with our affinity can die permanently. A Dementor is one of them. They feed on the happiness of those around them, sucking them from anyone nearby. Sometimes, they dredge up your worst memories. On rare occasions, they can cause those affected to suffer a fit and faint. They are vicious, evil creatures. Even Millennium didn't want anything to do with them. Magical Britain is the only country who uses them as prison guards, as they suppress magical ability. What is more, they can perform something called the Dementor's Kiss." Schrödinger shivered. "Dementors and vampires have one thing in common: they can extract the very soul of a person they feed on. But where those vampires feed on can live on as a familiar of the vampire, the Dementor's Kiss means that the Dementor digests and destroys the soul, leaving the body a husk that barely qualifies as alive. A Dementor can kill one like us if it gives us the Kiss."

"And the fools in the Ministry think they control them," Catriona said. "Instead, they made a Faustian pact. The Dementors'd be angry that Sirius managed to get by them, and they'd try to Kiss him on sight, whether the Minister says so or not."

"Okay, so definitely in the 'not good' category," Rose remarked with a weary sigh. "I guess it was too much to have a quiet school year. First Quirrellmort, and then a Basilisk. And now, this."

"Send the letters anyway. I'll help you write them. After that, you should head to Diagon Alley via the Floo." Catriona then looked at Schrödinger. "And you could do with some new experiences."

Schrödinger couldn't dispute that. Even so, he knew that, sooner or later, he would be missed at Millennium…

* * *

Which was true enough. The Doctor was nothing like the eponymous character of a certain science fiction TV series, but he did have two things in common: an unceasing thirst for knowledge, and a name he had discarded a long time ago. He was tall, thin, with blonde hair and wearing a strange set of glasses with multiple lenses like a portable, wearable phoropter(3). And he was currently jabbing a button on an electronic device repeatedly in his workshop.

A portly man wearing an immaculate suit and with glasses watched on, his golden eyes glinting with amusement. " _Well, Doc? Have we managed to bring our stray kitty back?_ "

" _No, Major. And it's not out of insolence_ ," the Doctor said with a snarl. They were both speaking in German. " _The potions I dosed him with should have responded to this. The magicals may sneer at technology for the most part, but it has its uses. No, I think somehow the potions were removed from him. Either that, or he has been captured and confined somehow. There are rituals that might be able to do so._ "

The Major tutted in irritation. " _But we need him for our plans. True, we don't need him just yet, as we are yet to even start sending our artificial vampires into England as a prelude to our invasion, but it's best to make sure we can get him. At least we have a fair guess as to where he is: he said he was heading over to the Potter Manor for a bit. We'll have to do this discreetly, to avoid attracting the attention of Hellsing before we are ready. Well, relatively discreetly._ " He turned to the tall, muscled man wearing a high-collared military coat and hat. What little could be seen of his face was tanned, stern and handsome, with snow-white hair and red eyes. " _Captain, would you kindly go and retrieve your wayward friend?_ "

The Captain nodded, but said nothing else.

" _Good, I'll make the arrangements, and if he isn't back within a week, we'll send you to England to track him down. Please be discreet, my dear Captain. Especially if by some fluke Schrödinger has ended up with the Girl Who Lived. It is doubtful she will come to the Potter Manor, but even so, this is a possibility, and if Schrödinger ends up at Hogwarts, especially with the brouhaha around Sirius Black…_ "

The Captain once more nodded mutely. He was not only one of the few people within Millennium to actually care about Schrödinger, but he was also one of the few people who'd be able to track him. And the Captain was concerned for Schrödinger. And not just because he was missing. The Captain was perhaps the only one in Millennium to not want Schrödinger to sacrifice himself. He just hoped he could find him in time…

 **CHAPTER 3 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, we have more from Schrödinger's POV, and some of Millennium's reaction to his disappearance. And the Captain's being sent to retrieve Schrödinger. But will he do so?**

 **1\. Coprolites, for those not in the know, are fossilised dung. So, Schrödinger is calling them both fossils and shit.**

 **2.** ** _Klarer_** **is a nickname for clear, cheap alcoholic spirits in Germany, particularly Korn or Doppelkorn, or some even cheaper spirits.**

 **3\. A phoropter is that thing at an optometrist's that they use to test your eyes and figure out what sort of glasses you need. I thought Doc's weird glasses were like that, so I tried tracking down what it's called. It's one of those things that, unless you're in the field, you probably don't know the name of but know what it is.**


	9. Verdant Magic Chapter 1

**I've been wanting to do a Batman crossover for some time. I originally intended this one to be one with _Batman: Arkham Asylum_ (I love those games), but I think it'll work better as a crossover with the comics, albeit with only loose ties to the comics' continuity. Seriously, that's Brobdingnagian shit right there, the continuity of DC Comics. Even more so than the Whoniverse, and that's saying something.**

 **I'm not the first person by any means to make Poison Ivy Harry's mother, adoptive or otherwise. whitetigerwolf has certainly beaten me to having Lily Evans as Ivy in their one-shot _Interview_. But this, I think, is the first substantial story to have Lily as Poison Ivy. Assuming it gets decanted from _The Cauldron_ , anyway...**

* * *

 _ **VERDANT MAGIC**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **REUNIONS**

Madam Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic of Britain, was an odious, nasty, cruel, and all-round immoral human being. In short, she was a bitch who looked like a poorly-transfigured toad turned into a woman, and stuffed into a cardigan dyed an eye-burning pink. But one thing she wasn't was stupid. Not wholly, anyway. To become the power behind the Minister of Magic, one had to be intelligent and savvy enough to navigate the brutal and Byzantine politics of Magical Britain.

Of course, of all her actions, this had to be a masterstroke. In her efforts to help discredit Dumbledore and his pawn, Harry Potter, she had considered many things. As the smear campaign against them mounted in _The Daily Prophet_ , Umbridge had considered sending Dementors after Harry. Now that would be good. Either Harry ended up a soulless husk…or he would be forced to use magic to repel them, and thus get in trouble with the Ministry for repeated use of magic in front of Muggles.

But Umbridge had now found something else. Something that would prove to be, if anything, a more devastating weapon. One that, at the very least, would wipe out a lot of support for Dumbledore in one fell swoop, and even turn Harry into, if not an ally of Umbridge and Fudge, then at least Dumbledore's enemy.

Which was why she had gone to Gotham City, and spent time amongst the frankly filthy Muggles there. Until she found the person she was looking for. It had been an arduous few hours, talking to that person and undoing the spells which had infested them. When that person had learned what had been done to them, and by whom, well, they were angry.

Umbridge also knew Harry Potter's home address, and had supplied it to that person. After all, if anyone deserved to know that address, it was that person. Even if they were a known criminal. But then again, what could you expect from a Muggleborn?

* * *

"But Red, this is so _boring_ ," whined a voice. The woman the voice belonged to was beautiful, with long blonde hair framing a pretty, 'girl next door' face. She was wearing jeans, and a T-shirt with the Mona Lisa, with a moustache and beard on it, and the caption LHOOQ below it, a rather highbrow joke for the woman(1). "Seriously, it's even worse than home. At least you've got graffiti livening the place up."

The other woman rolled her green eyes. Her face, framed by masses of red hair, was haughty and regal, her clothes a little more elegant than her companion, with a green blouse and black jacket and trousers, concealing a body many a woman would kill to have. A wide-brimmed hat completed the ensemble. When she spoke, her voice was a sultry purr, even when it wasn't actively trying to seduce. It also held a certain amount of weariness and anger. "Harleen, we are not staying here longer than necessary. Especially as that old wether(2) may have the house watched. We need to be in and out before they can react. And I'm not sure whether the Disillusionment Charm will work, especially if Moody's watching, though he would have come forward by now if he was."

"Can I still beat them up a little, Red? I mean, given what you told me, they probably deserve it."

"If we have time, and I see enough, yes." They walked through the rather bland, dreary street of Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, where the houses were almost like clones formed in a vat. As they approached Number 4, the woman called 'Red' flinched and stopped, before scowling. "That old wether has put up wards here to influence the inhabitants."

"Well, 'snot like it's gonna be a problem, Red, once we take the kid outta here," Harleen said with a shrug.

"True. Of course, the wards geared toward the Dursleys are designed to enhance natural hatred and aggression, while towards…" 'Red' stopped for a moment, overcome by emotion. Eventually, she said, "They're suppressing magical ability, ability in general, intelligence, acuity…as well as instilling loyalty. I'd be impressed if I weren't so angry. It's a very difficult and intricate bit of spellwork." She then approached the door, and rapped imperiously on it.

Eventually, the door was opened by a man who appeared to be a human walrus, obese, moustached, and ill-tempered. "Who are you?" he demanded belligerently.

"Vernon…time hasn't been kind to you at all, has it?" 'Red' purred. "It's been kinder to me, though I cannot say it is due to clean living."

Vernon blinked, before his eyes widened. "It can't be you. You died with that other freak!" But as he tried to slam the door shut, 'Red' held it open, even against the strength of Vernon Dursley. Then, after a while, Vernon's face went slack, his expression becoming blank.

'Red' and Harleen walked right in. The red-haired woman seemed to sniff the air, before she honed in on a cupboard underneath the stairs. She opened it, and then scowled. "What the hell are you doing here?!" screeched an unwelcome voice.

'Red' turned to stare at a rather long-necked, horse-faced woman, who stared at her in shock. "No…you're dead…"

'Red' rushed forward, and grabbed the woman by the throat. "You'll wish I had, dearest Petunia. I could smell his blood in that cupboard. And while that old goat's wards would have affected you, I didn't think that you would have done that unless you wanted to! I would have looked after Dudley if you had died."

"We…never wanted…the freak…" Petunia choked out.

'Red's eyes narrowed, and she shoved Petunia to the floor, gesturing. From out of nowhere, ropes conjured themselves around the woman's body. "Where is he? Tell me, and I will leave this house, with him."

"…Guest bedroom…"

"Thank you, Petunia. And goodbye. Harleen? Put the clown's toxin next to her. He's good for something, at least."

"Sure thing, Red." Harleen grinned, and placed a small cylinder with the distinctive emblem of a psychotic, grinning clown on it, in the centre of a spiral made of alternating arcs of sickly yellow and purple. "What time?" she asked, her fingers poised above a timer.

"Three minutes. Vernon, close the door and come here," 'Red' called out.

As Vernon approached, and 'Red' also incarcerated him in ropes, Petunia said, "For pity's sake, I have a child!"

"So have I, and look how you treated him," 'Red' scowled in contempt. "Goodbye, Petunia."

"For pity's sake, Lily!"

"Lily Evans died long ago," 'Red' said coldly to the woman she once considered a sister. "And what little pity I had for you died when I smelt that blood in the cupboard." And with that, she began walking up the stairs, Harleen in tow, ignoring the protests of the woman tied up behind her.

"Y'know, this magic thing is pretty useful, Red," Harleen said. "You should use it more often."

"I only regained it when that odious woman broke the remaining binds on my power," 'Red' said. "As much as I hate helping the Ministry's little smear campaign against my son, it is past time I came back into his life. And in any case, this will give that old goat a declaration of war." Reaching the door, she opened it, to find her son sitting, reading, only for him to look up.

For the woman known as 'Red', it was a startling moment. He looked so much like the man she had been tricked into becoming infatuated with. And yet, there were different qualities in his face, beyond the scar and the green eyes, so much like her own. Remembering she was on the clock, she said, "Pack your bags. We're leaving."

"Who are you? What are you…" He blinked as he seemed to recognise her. "No, it can't be, it's a trick!"

 _Dammit_ , 'Red' thought to herself, before sending a sleeping spell his way, hitting him before he could react. The snowy owl in a cage barked in fright. 'Red' began checking, getting a trunk, and nodding, before pulling out what she could manage from the cupboard. Putting the cage and trunk, along with what she had managed to pull out, she then plucked a piece of paper from her jacket, put it onto the things, and had Harleen put her hand onto it, while 'Red' put the boy's hand onto it. As laughter sounded from the gas bomb downstairs, 'Red' said "Demeter." The three people, one owl, and a lot of luggage vanished, while the two people currently in the house died laughing, literally, their faces becoming pale and with rictuses on them. Dudley Dursley, who was out taking boxing lessons, came back to find his parents dead, and the freak missing. And he didn't know where his cousin had gone…

* * *

"Y'know, I hate bein' out in civvies," Harley Quinn complained as she donned her habitual, figure-hugging red and black suit, reminiscent of a jester. They were now back at one of Ivy's hideouts, at an old, abandoned garden centre. "It's so much more fun bein' in costume. It's like playing dress-up every day. I guess that's one of the attractions for B-Man. I mean, why else would he dress up like a frickin' bat?"

The voice of her co-conspirator, frequent lover, and probably only actual reliable friend, came out of the wardrobe where she was dressing, wearily. "The Batman is disturbed, Harley. Madness is a debatable thing, especially where Gotham is concerned, but one thing we can agree on is that disturbed individuals are on both sides of the law."

"I never heard you talkin' like that before, Ivy," Harley said. "Ever since that toad woman came 'round, you've been actin' a bit weird. I mean, beyond havin' a kid I never knew about, and bein' a witch like Zatanna, and having a British accent all of a sudden."

"At least the Batman is, for all his sneaking around, honest about his purposes. He'd fit right into Gryffindor…or Slytherin or Ravenclaw. Or Hufflepuff. To get where he is, he'd need a lot of hard work and tenacity."

"Yeah, I dunno half the stuff you're talkin' about, Red."

"Don't worry, Harley," her lover said, walking out of the wardrobe. Her skin, originally pale, was now the light green of a sapling. She was now dressed in what could be described as a one-piece swimsuit, seemingly made of leaves. "The upshot is, I have a new perspective on things. My mission hasn't changed, just something of the way I go about it. And the Batman will still seek to incarcerate me for my crimes past and future. And, of course, you're still mine."

"Aw, you're so sweet, Ivy," Harley said, smiling at Poison Ivy, one of the most infamous criminals to operate in Gotham. As was herself, but it was not unusual for the so-called supervillains, as the hysterical media dubbed them, to congregate. And ever since a fateful encounter five years ago, the two were lovers as well, albeit with a somewhat fractious relationship, partly because of Harley Quinn's obsession with the infamous psychopath known only as the Joker.

Still, at least the insane 'Clown Prince of Crime' had been good for something, Ivy reflected. Harley happened to have a gas bomb with his infamous Joker venom, a substance that provoked a fatal gelastic seizure, or, in layman's terms, they laughed themselves to death, the gaseous toxin pulling their faces into a grotesque smile like the Joker. Harley and Ivy were immune, Harley because of repeated exposure to non-fatal amounts of the toxin (as well as Ivy giving her a means of resisting poisons), and Ivy was immune to poisons in general. But to kill the Dursleys in such a way…well, it was immensely satisfying, and it might divert a little attention: Ivy's animosity towards the Joker was well-known.

Poison Ivy sighed quietly to herself. "Come on, Harley. I think I'll need you there with me. This is probably the hardest thing I've done since Woodrue experimented on me. That fool thought he was modifying me, when in truth, he was setting part of me free. Just not all of me…"

* * *

There he was…her son, lying there in the bed of her makeshift infirmary. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived (and if someone other than Dumbledore had thought up that little sobriquet, she was going to feed them to one of her plants). The one she had been forced to have with that bullying son of a bitch James Potter, thanks to Amortentia, and a bunch of other potions and spells. The one she was set up to be a brood mare for by Dumbledore. But while she could see James Potter's features, she also couldn't see him as anything other than her son, all grown up. A son whom she had been forced to forget. She wasn't going to hold the sins of the father against him, and despite the lies _The Daily Prophet_ printed, she was almost certain he was nothing like his father in character.

Gently, Poison Ivy waved a hand, and murmured, "Finite." Her son's eyes flickered open. When he saw her, and Harley, he blinked.

"Okay…I'm going crazy."

"Kid, it helps in this city," Harley said, probably not helping the matter, though her tone was gentle.

"Who are you?" the teenager demanded. "You can't be my mother, she's dead, and…hang on, aren't you Poison Ivy? And Harley Quinn?"

"That we are," Harley said.

"I don't know how I can't have seen it. I have that photo album from Hagrid," the teenager was muttering.

"That's because there's a certain man who has a lot to answer for," Poison Ivy said. "Magic was involved in blinding my eyes to the truth…and everyone else's. In Gotham, I am known as Pamela Isley, aka Poison Ivy. But…I was born Lily Evans. Harry, I know this is hard to believe, but _I am your mother_."

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, here you have it. Poison Ivy is really Lily Evans. Harry's just been chucked in the deep end, and the Dursleys (well, two of them at least) have suffered a justifiable demise. Seriously, Joker gas is too good for them.**

 **1.** ** _LHOOQ_** **is a famous parody of the Mona Lisa by Marcel Duchamp, which has the Mona Lisa with a moustache and a beard. Spoken out loud in French, the initials LHOOQ sound like the French words '** ** _Elle a chaud a cul_** **', literally meaning '** ** _She is hot in the arse_** **', but less figuratively meaning '** ** _She's randy_** **'. I reckon this sort of thing would be right up Harley Quinn's alley, given the Joker's propensity for vandalising works of art and bad jokes.**

 **2\. As mentioned in previous fanfics, 'wether' is a term for a castrated goat. I found it while writing** ** _Fall to Zenith_** **, and found it an excellent insult for a bashable Dumbledore, or else being used by his enemies in stories of mine where he isn't being bashed.**


	10. Verdant Magic Chapter 2

_**VERDANT MAGIC**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **MOTHER AND SON**

Harry Potter had thought he had experienced everything in his short but, in the past four years or so, eventful life. He had had no less than three near-fatal encounters with a psychotic dark wizard who didn't have the decency to die, he had duelled, flown in a car, on broomstick, travelled through fireplaces, faced off a werewolf, got roped into a tournament meant for people older than he was and, of course, could do magic. And now, with Cedric dead and his friends being oddly reticent about contacting him while Voldemort was running around, he thought his year was probably going to get worse.

This situation, though…he wasn't sure what to make of it. One of the most infamous supercriminals of Gotham City was claiming to be his mother. A mother, he had been told, had sacrificed her life to save his own from Voldemort. And yet, he couldn't deny it. In fact, he was wondering how he could have been so blind. The only difference between the photos of Lily Potter and the face of Poison Ivy standing right in front of him was the green skin colour. That, and the fact that Ivy was currently wearing little more than what looked like a leotard made of leaves.

Oh, and standing next to her was Harley Quinn, the infamous paramour of the even more infamous Joker. Complete with a figure-hugging red and black jester suit. And who was currently peering at Harry in what seemed like concern, before she said, "Red, I think you broke him."

"It's a lot to take in, Harley," Ivy said quietly. "I've practically walked up to him and said, 'Hi, I'm your mother, and I'm an infamous supervillain!' I think anyone would be taken aback by that. Especially as he's no doubt wondering why I never came back for him all these years."

After a moment, Harry said, "A Memory Charm?"

"Not exactly. But thanks for even considering that. The truth was…it was basically a high-powered version of a Memory Charm, allowing one to rewrite one's memories from the ground up. Even give a new identity. It's almost like the Fidelius, used for extreme cases of witness protection. It's almost never used, though, with the wizards believing a Fidelius or other magic will suffice. And I had it used against me without my consent. Lily Evans became Pamela Isley, a botanist working in Seattle with Alec Holland under Jason Woodrue. Woodrue's experiments on me didn't undo that spell, but they undid bindings on powers I already had." Poison Ivy looked into Harry's eyes both ruefully and proudly. "Powers you yourself have. Harry…I know you have many questions, but…I want to have your powers awakened first, so that you're ready to have the answers."

Harry had a lot of questions, but one stood out in his mind, a question he wanted answered for years. As Ivy turned to pluck a hypodermic from a kidney dish, he said, "Just one thing. Dumbledore's been evasive about why Voldemort has been after me. I thought you'd know. Can you tell me?"

Ivy considered this, before nodding. "I can tell you that," she said as she filled the syringe from a bottle filled with green liquid. "There was…a prophecy, uttered by a woman by the name of Trelawney. Voldemort heard part of it through one of his spies. In summary, it stated that the one with the power to defeat Voldemort would be born in the dying hours of July. Voldemort would mark that person as his equal, and neither would be able to live while the other survived. There was one other child who fit the prophecy, a boy by the name of Neville Longbottom."

"Neville?!"

"So you know him. Anyway, Voldemort began targeting us, so that's when we went into hiding. Now, I know you're going to ask me what's in this syringe. It's a refined form of the same substances Woodrue injected into me, plus a sedative. You won't go through anywhere as much pain or suffering as I did, Harry. I promise you that. And I refuse to let you die. It'll just break the bonds placed on you."

Harry got the feeling that, whether he wanted to or not, she was going to inject him anyway. And she at least had told him about this prophecy. Trelawney uttering a true prophecy? Dumbledore had claimed that she had uttered two so far, including that one about Pettigrew. Resignedly, he said, "Okay. It can't be any worse than Basilisk venom."

After a moment, Ivy said, quietly, "You and I are going to have a lot of catching up to do, Harry." And with that, she actually kissed the crook of his elbow, before putting the syringe in. He realised she had done that deliberately, because his elbow was now numb, and he couldn't feel the injection. He could feel the sedative, and whatever was in the concoction she had used, beginning to creep through his veins, ice and fire mingling in his blood, until darkness claimed him, a darkness filled with pain and warmth…

* * *

"A Basilisk," Ivy hissed as her son fell unconscious. "How the hell did my son end up fighting a Basilisk?!"

"Is that a bad thing, Ivy?" Harley asked.

"A Basilisk is a massive snake with venom even more lethal than anything I secrete from my lips. I'm surprised it didn't get rid of his bindings. Or maybe it did, and the old wether put them back. The only cure for Basilisk venom poisoning are Phoenix tears. I know Dumbledore has a Phoenix as a familiar…or a slave. Of course, getting bitten is one thing. If you look into a Basilisk's eyes, you die, unless you're lucky to see it either in a reflection or through some other means like a lens. Then you only get petrified."

"Wow. Y'know, imagine Killer Croc having somethin' like that."

"Thank you, Harley. I was getting tired of being able to sleep soundly at night." Ivy sighed. "I'm going to have to pay Zatanna a visit, see if she has anything to tell me about what's been happening in Magical Britain for the last little while, particularly from when Harry first attended Hogwarts."

"You sure, Red? I mean, she's probably gonna try to take you in," Harley said.

"Then I'll ask her for the location of the nearest magical enclave," Ivy said. "Gotham probably has an equivalent to Diagon. They probably deal more openly here than in Magical Britain. I thought the Yanks were even more closed-up than we were, but I guess in Gotham, it'll be more lax. I mean, you've got a man running around dressed as a bat, another man dressed as a clown, you've got a witch operating overtly in the Justice League, and so many strange people in and around Gotham. And that's without going into Metropolis or some of those other cities. Actually, scratch Zatanna. There's two people who would know where the local enclave is that we can trust more than her."

"Who?"

"Nygma may know. So too may Cobblepot. They've got connections and know where to find these things. I'll call Nygma up first. He owes me for not feeding him to Seymour after that insult he made." Ivy then walked out of the infirmary, and over to a phone. She dialled a special number, and waited.

After a while, the familiar smug, haughty tones of Edward Nashton, aka Edward 'Riddler' Nygma, came down the line. " _Hi, you've reached the voicemail of the Riddler. Please, don't leave a message after the tone unless it's actually interesting. Kthanxbye_."

Ivy growled quietly, before saying, "Listen to me, Nygma. This is Ivy, and if you're listening, you had better answer my call very soon, or Merlin help me, I will use my plants to make you the unwilling star of a botanical-themed tentacle hentai."

Almost immediately, the Riddler picked up the phone. Clearly, he had been screening his calls. " _Well, you've gotten my attention, Pamela, and not just because of the threat. Because while I know that's your voice, I also noticed you are speaking with a British accent. It sounds a little Northern, actually. And you just said 'Merlin help me'. Now, while the magical world does not interest me that much, I have a niece who is a British witch, and I know they all but revere Merlin as a deity in Britain's magical society._ "

Ivy blinked. "You have a niece who is a witch?"

" _Yes, but you didn't call up to talk about her, Pamela. You called me up for some reason. Well? What does Poison Ivy want with the Riddler?_ "

"Information. If you know about the magical world, that makes it easier. Where's the nearest magical enclave?"

" _Ah, straight to the point. Well, normally I charge a hefty fee for my services, or else deliver them as a riddle…but I guess I can cut you a break. To mend bridges after our last encounter. Kovurt Alley isn't the best of locations, but you'd be right at home there. Most of us would, by all accounts. I hear Scarecrow sometimes goes there to get ingredients to put into his fear poisons. I went there once, to satisfy my curiosity, and to buy some books. The entrance is in Crime Alley, right near where the Waynes got shot. You tap the memorial plaque with the 'shave and a haircut' riff, so I am told. Just don't be there when Bruce Wayne pays his respects. He gets a bit tetchy over people trampling over where his parents got shot._ "

Ivy scoffed. Since her memories and faculties as Lily Evans had returned, she had a few ideas of her own about Bruce Wayne. "Thank you, Nygma. Consider the debt you incurred with your insult repaid."

" _Very well, but a word of advice, Pamela. They're not that fond of what they call 'No-Majs', that is, people without magic like you or me. Or maybe it's just me, given you swearing by Merlin's name._ "

"No-Maj is the Yank term for what we call Muggles back in Britain. It's short for 'No Magic'," Ivy said. "And I'll be fine. Goodbye, Nygma." She hung up.

"You're not headin' there now, are you, Red?" Harley asked.

"No. I want to wait until Harry's out of danger first. It'll be at least a day before he's ready, if not more." She watched as beads of sweat broke out on his face. "Few metamorphoses are painless, at least initially. You and I both know that, Harley. But my son needs to get stronger if he needs to face his enemies. Enemies that make the Batman pale by comparison. At least he's honest about what he does."

"Uh, Red, he beats the crap outta people like you and me while wearin' a mask. That don't sound very honest to me."

"True, but his agenda isn't hidden. He's a vigilante who works outside the law. He's honest in that regard. All he hides is his face and public identity. But Voldemort wants supreme power, and he doesn't care about blood purity, save that it gives him an agenda. He treats mages and Muggles with contempt equally. And Dumbledore…he cloaks his own ambitions in righteousness. A chessmaster, a spider at the centre of a web, playing with the lives of others as he sees fit. He played with my life, and he played with Harry's. I will end them both, Dumbledore and Voldemort."

Suddenly, Harry convulsed, crying out even when unconscious. He began to spasm, and then, a cloud of black smoke emanated from his scar, screaming. Ivy thought that it seemed to form a face briefly, the all-too-familiar ophidian face of Voldemort. "Uhh, Red, did I just see living smoke come from your boy's scar?" Harley asked.

"You did," Ivy said. She looked at Harry, who was too still, no pulse or breathing. Immediately, she began performing resuscitation on him, breathing air into his lungs, and pumping his chest. EAR and CPR. Harley, after a moment, began performing the CPR while Ivy did the EAR. Both were qualified in first aid, with Harley having been taught it as part of her training at Arkham Asylum, back when she was an employee rather than an inmate.

It's an interesting fact that CPR is not 100% reliable, or even has the high success rate portrayed in fiction. Indeed, used without any medical equipment to supplement the resuscitation, the actual success rate is surprisingly low. It is, of course, better than doing nothing(1). But Harry showed that he was one of the lucky ones. After a few minutes, Harry's heart began beating on its own. He began to breathe again. His skin was beginning to take on a slight green pallor, but Ivy knew that that was because the serum was working. "Son of a bitch," Ivy muttered. "I think I know what that thing was."

"Whaddya mean, Ivy?"

"While I was fighting Voldemort all those years ago, I researched ways he could have become immortal, as he was infamous for desiring it. Even then, I had heard of the Lazarus Pits Ra's al Ghul uses. And there's the Elixir of Life, said to be the sole creation of Nicholas Flamel using the Philosopher's Stone. But I think Voldemort has used something else. That was a fragment of his soul, Harley. You ever heard of the tale of Koschei the Deathless?"

Harley frowned. After a moment, she said, "Whaddya know, I think I do. That's the Russian folktale about the guy who put his soul into a needle, and hid it away in a lotta things, right?"

"Right. I believe it was based on rumours about what Horcruxes are. A Horcrux is a soul fragment you split from your own soul. You undergo a vile ritual first, then commit murder, and then put part of your soul into an object that is then called a Horcrux. If your body dies, then as long as there's at least one Horcrux around, you'll survive as a spirit."

"And Voldemort made your kid into one? Yeesh."

"No, I don't think he did that on purpose. I reckon he would have used my son's death to create a Horcrux, but not Harry himself. I wouldn't put it past Voldemort to make multiple Horcruxes. He wanted to be more immortal than Solomon Grundy or Ra's al Ghul. Maybe he made so many, what was left of his soul was unstable enough so that, when he tried to kill Harry, the backlash shattered his soul and caused part of it to reside within my son."

"Yeah, I gotta ask you, Red, you've only told me so much about Voldemort and Dumbledore. I gotta lot of questions."

"So will my son," Ivy said. "I'll explain it when he wakes up." She smiled when she saw that the green of his skin was deepening. "Yes…he's very much his mother's child," she said softly, gently reaching over and caressing his cheek. "And soon, we are all going to make our mark on the world…"

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, here you have it. Harry's now becoming like Ivy, the Horcrux has been removed, and the Riddler has a niece who is a witch. Explanations will come later.**

 **1\. This is actually true. CPR is actually less effective than it is portrayed as being on TV. That being said, using CPR is far better than doing nothing. It can buy time long enough for proper medical intervention to take place. It may not be a miracle cure, but it has saved lives. Learning it is thus not a waste of time.**


	11. The New Cetra Heritage: Imago Chapter 1

**My first fanfic ever published was _Harry Potter and the Cetra Heritage_ , a crossover with _Final Fantasy VII_. While not quite the most popular of my fanfics, it nonetheless not only spawned sequels, but has recently gained not just a fanfic rec (thanks to long-term reader jgkitarel), but also a Tropes Page on TV Tropes (thanks to someone by the name of Emperor Max 2019). I tried to recreate that success, thinking I could copy and paste much of the story but make it more darker and adult. Sadly, while the first five chapters went fine enough, I struggled with doing the sixth, and anything further was beyond my reach.**

 **I recently decided, given that I couldn't work any more on this story, and that I had a far superior and more popular dark crossover between Harry Potter and _Final Fantasy VII_ ( _Vert the Emerald and the Cetra Heritage_ ), I made, albeit somewhat reluctantly, the decision to abandon _The New Cetra Heritage: Imago_. I may revisit some of the story concepts involved in either a new crossover, or else use them in either the main Cetra Heritage Saga, or else _Vert the Emerald and the Cetra Heritage_. I decided to shift the chapters written to date into _The Cauldron_. If you've favourited _The New Cetra Heritage: Imago_ , please favourite _The Cauldron_ in its stead, as I will be deleting that story in a few weeks' time...**

* * *

 _ **THE NEW CETRA HERITAGE: IMAGO**_

 **EPISODE 1:**

 **HERITAGES**

 _Endings are heartless. Ending is just another word for goodbye_.

-The Dark Tower, _by Stephen King_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **AZKABAN, APOTHEOSIS, AND AERITH**

To say a place was Hell on Earth was a cliché so often used, people often forgot what it meant. Appellations of this kind were appended to places ranging from the harshest deserts to the coldest tundra. Prisons were popularly given this sort of name. But one that was perhaps one of the closest to emulating Hell on Earth was Azkaban.

To most people, the word Azkaban would mean little. But to the magical community of the United Kingdom, it was a name spoken of in awe, fear, and dread. A pimple of an island in the frigid seas off Britain's coast, isolated and cold. There were worse prisons in the world of magic (Nurmengard, the legendary prison of Grindlewald, for example), and even some in the mundane world, but Azkaban was close to the top.

Even before it became a prison for Magical Britain, it had been the lair of one of the darkest of wizards, Ekrizdis. His name isn't known to many modern wizards, but in his time, he was feared, using Azkaban as a fortress to lure Muggle sailors to the concealed island to torture and experiment on. Only with his death did the charms concealing the island fall, and the Ministry investigated. To this day, it's not known exactly what happened(1).

The thing that made Azkaban truly awful was not the cold or the isolation, or its dark and obscure history. It was the guards. Dementors, hideous wraith-like beings who were said to grow from dark and decaying places, creatures who existed to suck good feelings from anyone near their influence. The Ministry of Magic trusted them enough to remain as guards, but truth be told, the Dementors had no loyalties, save to themselves. They stayed as guards and wardens of Azkaban only because it meant they could feed off the feelings of prisoners.

And, occasionally, feed off their souls. For the Wizarding World, the ultimate penalty was the Dementor's Kiss, whereby the Dementor would consume the soul of the malcontent. The condemned would still be alive, but they would be in a condition where they would envy a vegetable. A vessel, even emptier than the Dementors themselves, capable of breathing, and virtually nothing else.

The Ministry of Magic was keen to stamp out any rumours that Dementors had fed on souls without permission. The truth was, however, that having the Dementors as guards of Azkaban was a Mephistophelean deal. If they ever received a better offer, they'd be gone in a trice.

The prisoners of Azkaban counted as their number the infamous. Many of them were Death Eaters, Lord Voldemort's fanatical supporters. A few had gone to Azkaban cheerfully holding onto their loyalty for the Dark Lord. But one had gone to Azkaban in a fall that was spectacular. From hero to mass murderer. From saviour to villain.

Look at him, in his cell, painfully thin, his once jewel-like emerald eyes dull. Behold, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, Saviour of Magical Britain…and Magical Britain's dirtiest secret. The man who killed Voldemort, and who wiped out most of the Death Eaters, killing off many lines in a bloody rampage of revenge, a rampage that left him here, a hollow wreck of what he once was.

So many deaths…his friends, his family, many of which could have been prevented if Dumbledore had been more forthcoming. Voldemort was dead, his Horcruxes destroyed…but it was a pyrrhic victory at best. Out of all his actual friends, only Harry survived. Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, Luna, Lupin, Tonks, they had been killed during that battle. He frequently remembered, courtesy of the Dementors, a nightmarish vision of seeing Luna being killed by a Blasting Hex right in front of him.

It was his friends' deaths that set him on what they'd call a roaring rampage of revenge. And it was that that led him here. Shoved into here by the Ministry of Magic as a preventative measure against a new Dark Lord. The only reason why he hadn't been given the Kiss for his actions was that he had stopped Voldemort. This was, though, something of a poor reward for a lifetime of being expected to become the saviour of Magical Britain.

The lack of gratitude didn't truly hurt any more. He felt very little at all. Anger, hatred, all had died down, until a chilling emptiness was left behind.

Nothing changed for the years he spent in Azkaban…and he never expected them to. At least not for the better.

So when one day, he opened his eyes, and found three people standing in front of his cell door, one of whom looked like Luna Lovegood, he was certain that he was hallucinating, or seeing phantoms. "Fuck off, I'm not buying," he mumbled deliriously.

"Harry, it's me. The wrackspurts have really gotten to you, haven't they?"

That sounded like Luna's voice, but he retorted to the phantom, "No, that's the Dementors raping my happiness. Piss off, ghost Luna. I wanna suffer in peace."

The man with her, who had a mane of white hair and a surprisingly youthful, if somewhat long, face, rolled his eyes. "We're wasting time. The Ministry will be sending people soon." He formed what seemed to be bladed disks out of the air itself, and then sliced the door open. "I'm glad I learned how to use Aerospark in this form," he said in a slight French accent as he walked through and hauled Harry to his feet. "Harry, I am Nicholas Flamel. We haven't met, but you helped save something of mine about a decade ago."

"The…Philosopher's Stone?" Harry asked, long-disused realms of memory kicking into gear.

"Well, you saved something Voldemort thought to be the Philosopher's Stone. Even Albus only knew a little of what it was, or who I truly was, but I digress. We need to get going. Luna, can we do it here?"

Luna nodded, and as she walked into the cell, followed closely by a red-haired young woman, Harry stared at her. "Luna…your hair…your _eyes!_ "

"Yes, I know," Luna said, her hair now silvery, and her blue eyes now having a slight green tinge…and reptilian slits for pupils. The effect merely made her look more alien, rather than at all sinister. She wore a bangle with two blood-red crystalline orbs on it. "I will explain later, Harry. Let's just say that this is the second Reunion I have had in a short period of time."

Harry didn't fail to notice that, somehow, she had capitalised the word 'Reunion'. Flamel said to Luna, "We'll retreat to our Materia for the time being."

The woman nodded. "Don't hesitate to call us, Luna." Then, Flamel and the woman (his wife?) vanished, light seeming to dart towards the blood-red orbs Luna had on her bangle.

"What are you doing?" he asked as she began drawing a circle on the floor of his cell.

"I'm going home," Luna said. "Well, home of a sort. I've never been there. But after the Battle of Hogwarts and that Blasting Hex, well, I think it's time."

"But how can you have survived?"

"I'm not human, Harry. I never was entirely human," Luna said, sadly. "I've known before I even came to Hogwarts. In a way, the place we're about to go to is home to you to. It can be considered home to every wizard and witch that exists, for while there have been wizards and witches on Earth before, it's the Cetra Heritage that ensured there's as many of us as there are."

"Cetra?"

"Yes. Humans with innate magical power from another world. But that is not all of my heritage. They call you monster, Harry, for what you did in your grief. If they would call you that…then they would call me monster even more. I am a hybrid of human…and Jenova."

"Jenova?"

"The Calamity from the Skies. An alien from another world. A parasite. The catalyst for the Cetra Exodus." Luna looked up at him, and stood once she finished her circle. "Harry…you don't deserve Azkaban. You don't deserve this. They've taken everything from you. Your friends…your heroism…your life. I don't want you to waste away in Azkaban. That is why I am taking you with me. No more prison. No more fame. Another world where the Boy Who Lived is, well, normal. Magic is commonplace there. I will explain more later. But do you trust me?"

Harry couldn't trust himself to speak. He had rarely seen Luna so serious. And he had seen her _die!_ But if this was no dream, no Dementor-induced delirium, then he was willing to take any chance to escape. So he nodded.

"Thank you," Luna said, with one of the saddest smiles he had ever seen her use. Then, she gathered energy together, and slammed her hands down onto the circle. Almost immediately, it glowed with eldritch light, and soon, it consumed Harry's vision…

* * *

Aerith Gainsborough knew that she was close to her destination, even as she moved through the strange pathways of the City of the Ancients. She could feel it, as acutely as others could feel the temperature of the air. Even normal people would be able to feel it by now, but not quite as well as her. After all, she was an Ancient, a Cetra.

Not that that meant much. She was the last of her kind, especially now that the Temple of the Ancients, along with its inhabitants, were no more. Of course, those beings were merely the spiritual remnants of the Ancients, but she still felt their loss as acutely as she did when her mother, her real mother, perished on the steps of the Sector 7 slums' train station.

Pensively, she clutched at the Materia on her head she had carried for the longest time. Aerith had once said to Cloud, when they first met, that it was good for absolutely nothing. That was meant in jest. In truth, she knew what it was. Her mother had spoken to her from within the Lifestream and told her. The ultimate White Magic Materia. Holy.

It was the only thing that could stop Sephiroth.

Thanks to Cloud's actions, Sephiroth now had the Black Materia capable of summoning Meteor. Holy was the only thing that could stop Meteor, and Aerith was willing to bet that Sephiroth, with his intimate understanding of the Planet and the Lifestream, knew this. He intended to stop her. This was part of the reason she left for the City of the Ancients alone. She didn't want to bring any of the others into danger. And if truth be told…she couldn't trust Cloud. Not completely.

It wasn't that she thought him untrustworthy per se. Indeed, he had helped save her manifold times. They had fought together for too long over the past few weeks that she couldn't see him as anything other than an ally, and as a friend. Perhaps he could be more, though Aerith didn't want to upset Tifa. Despite his stern, sometimes cold demeanour, there was a warmth in Cloud that sometimes shone through. That time in the Golden Saucer, where she managed to finagle him into going on a date, wasn't the best possible time they could have had. But it was a good one anyway.

But even before Sephiroth took control of him in the hole left by the Temple and had him attack her, she found herself disquietened by him. He resembled her old boyfriend, Zack, so much it wasn't funny. Not that there was much physical resemblance, beyond the spiky hair and the eerie shine of the Mako infusion in his eyes. And the clothes and sword. No, it was his manner. Half the time, it seemed like Zack, and the other half, it seemed like someone else, presumably Cloud. She remembered saying something fatuous on that gondola ride back at the Golden Saucer, something about wanting to meet him, even though he was, physically, right in front of her. She had meant the real him, of course.

And then, there was Tifa's attitude to him, especially after his story in the inn at Kalm. Aerith noticed that she seemed (albeit subtly) disbelieving of his story. Not of the actual events, but rather, that Cloud had ever been there. For a childhood friend, that was a rather disturbing attitude for Tifa to take. It wasn't that Tifa was certain that Cloud hadn't been there, but rather, that she was uncertain as to whether he had been there. Like she thought she may have seen Cloud once.

That was why she left Cloud and the others back at Gongaga. As dangerous as the trek was, she needed to put some distance between her and Cloud. Once she got Holy activated, then she would come back, and work on getting him free from Sephiroth's control. And confront Tifa about why she seemed to have a guarded attitude towards her old friend. They needed to work things out if they were going to stop Sephiroth, not to mention Shinra.

Soon, she came to a clearing in the strange forest of pale, stone-like trees, and she halted as she beheld the sight in front of her. In front of her was a small lake, and on the other side of the lake, within easy walking distance, was a strange building that looked like a massive seashell, all conical and spiral and spiky. She closed her eyes, and sighed. It would be lovely to dip her toes briefly into the water. All that walking, even mitigated by careful use of Warp spells, had done a number on her feet.

But as she approached the water's edge, she frowned as she saw something on the shore. She moved on cautiously, only to realise what it was, and she ran over.

It was two people, a young man and a young woman, both about her age, sprawled on the shore of that lake. The young man had messy dark hair, a painfully thin face flecked with stubble, and dressed in clothes that seemed little more than rags. Prison garb, she thought.

The woman was dressed in a purple shirt and trousers, but had long, silvery hair. She was the first to regain consciousness, her eyes flickering open to reveal blue irises…and slit pupils. It was almost as if she was a female Sephiroth, and Aerith fought down a brief moment of panic.

"Oh, hello," the woman said with a fairly friendly, if somewhat dreamy smile. "Tell me, where are we?"

"…You're in the City of the Ancients."

"You mean the Cetra?"

Aerith nodded reluctantly. The woman seemed harmless, but every instinct in her body was screaming at her. This was a Jenova creature.

The young woman chuckled quietly, in relief more than anything else. "We made it. Harry…we're home."

"Harry?"

"Oh, sorry, how rude of me. I am Luna Lovegood, and I was intended to be the Embodiment of Jenova on my world. This is Harry Potter, the former Boy Who Lived. We're both Cetra, like you."

Aerith was taken aback about how casually the woman admitted she was a Jenova creature. She was also taken aback at how genuinely serene and calm she was, and it wasn't like the attitude of Sephiroth. Sephiroth had the attitude of a would-be god, whereas Luna seemed to act as if everything would be all right in the end. It was bizarrely very comforting. "How did you know I was a Cetra?"

Luna smiled. "I see a lot of things. Just because other people can't see them doesn't mean they're there. Anyway, what's your name?"

"Aerith Gainsborough. Listen, Miss Lovegood, I'm in something of a hurry. I need to do something very important for the Planet's survival."

The young man, Harry, groaned, apparently conscious. "Luna…" he complained, "have you just dropped us into a life or death situation?"

"Apparently so."

The young man's eyes flickered open, revealing emerald orbs like Aerith's own. He murmured, "Oh no, not _again_ …"

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Welcome to the first chapter of** ** _Imago_** **. Yes, I start with a cliché, with Harry in Azkaban. But I needed him shorn of attachments so that, unlike** ** _Harry Potter and the Cetra Heritage_** **, he won't have any desire to head back home. And Luna has become a Jenova creature at this point because one, she will be taking the place of Jenova in this story (we will have something of the Jenova from the original version, but more as part of Luna), and two, I wanted to have a different means of Harry heading to the Planet than in** ** _Harry Potter and the Cetra Heritage_** **.**

 **A lot of this chapter was taken from chapters 1 and 16 of** ** _Harry Potter and the Cetra Heritage_** **. Hey, if the prose works…and keep in mind, I'm copying and pasting from my own works. Yeah, it's lazy. Deal with it.**

 **1\. As mentioned in** ** _Harry Potter and the Cetra Heritage_** **, much of this backstory to Azkaban was taken from the Harry Potter Wiki, and actually came from stuff from Pottermore.**

 **CHAPTER 1 SUGGESTED SOUNDTRACK**

 **(FTG= 'From the Game', that is,** ** _Final Fantasy VII_** **)**

 **Broken Hero (Harry's theme)** **:** ** _Nuclear_** **(Instrumental version), by Mike Oldfield.**

 **The Chrysalis of an Awakening Goddess (Luna's theme)** **:** ** _Terra_** **, from** ** _Final Fantasy IX_** **, composed by Nobuo Uematsu.**

 **The Flower Lady (Aerith's Theme)** **:** ** _Flowers Blooming in the Church_** **(FTG). I consider this Aerith's 'true' theme, whereas** ** _Aerith's Theme_** **is more the theme of her death. This is considerably less melancholy, and a bit more descriptive of Aerith in life than in her death.**


	12. The New Cetra Heritage: Imago Chapter 2

_**THE NEW CETRA HERITAGE: IMAGO**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **PRAYING FOR A MIRACLE**

Harry staggered down the vast, spiralling staircase, helped by Luna and Aerith. He was grateful for their help, especially that of Aerith, who seemed to be taking a risk helping two strangers, especially as she had a vital errand of her own. Luna explained things on the way down, and shortly before they reached the bottom, Aerith, a lovely, brown-haired young woman with a demure face, green eyes that twinkled with mischief, and a pink dress and jacket that had seen better days, frowned. "So, you two are descendants of Cetra from another world where magic is hidden. But a few of those Cetra were still infected with Jenova cells. They actually used some ritual to combine those cells and hybridise them with you, Luna, while you were still in the womb."

Luna nodded. "Yes."

"…That sounds like what may have happened to Sephiroth," Aerith said. She had explained a little about what she was doing earlier, trying to activate a special kind of magic to thwart Sephiroth. She hadn't explained why exactly.

"Who is this Sephiroth guy, anyway?" Harry rasped. His voice hadn't been used for much more than screaming and swearing for years. And his emaciated state meant that he wasn't good for much in the way of physical combat. It'd be a miracle if he could use his magic properly now.

"Once one of the most famous members of SOLDIER who ever lived. SOLDIER is the elite special forces of the Shinra Company. Anyway, he went mad when he found out he was a hybrid with Jenova, whom he thought to be a Cetra. He's trying to become a god."

"Aren't they all?" Harry groaned as they reached the bottom of the stairs, where a platform with an altar was waiting, standing in a vast underground lake.

"He may yet be able to," Aerith said. "He intends to wound the Planet using the Ultimate Black Magic: Meteor. He intends to create a wound which he will then place himself inside, and consume the Lifestream rushing to heal it, and use that very energy to become all-powerful."

"Lifestream?"

Aerith looked at him, before saying, "The lifeblood of the Planet, literally. Lifeforce that circulates within the Planet as living beings are born and die."

Harry nodded. This was all very new to him, of course, but better to accept it for the time being. He was helped across a series of platforms leading to the altar-platform in the middle of the underground lake. "Okay, so, stop Sephiroth, save the world. You said earlier that you had friends. Where are they?"

"…I had to do this alone. One of them…he is vulnerable to Sephiroth's control. He attacked me while under his influence."

"Okay, potential cuckoo in the nest, been there before too, along with the 'having to do this shit' alone shit," Harry remarked sardonically.

They made it to the altar-platform, and Aerith gently laid Harry down once they got up the stairs. He managed, barely, to sit up. Aerith peered at him in concern. "What happened to you?"

"I got sent to prison," Harry rasped. "I went on what some people call a roaring rampage of revenge."

"Harry was chosen by prophecy on our world. That, and the delusions of a deranged megalomaniac," Luna said. "After the final battle with said megalomaniac, his friends had been killed, save for me, and, well, I had to undergo a Reunion."

"That's the second time you said it like that," Harry said, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"Pulling my disparate cells and tissues back together. And considering I was virtually disintegrated, it took me a long time," Luna said. "Jenova creatures have that ability."

Aerith frowned. "So that's what Hojo meant when he asked Cloud if he felt a desire to be somewhere…and what Sephiroth meant by 'Reunion'. But that means Cloud may be infected by Jenova cells."

"That would certainly make him more vulnerable to control by Sephiroth," Luna said. "Under the right circumstances, he could probably believe he was another person entirely."

On Luna's words, Aerith stared at the silvery-haired young woman in utter shock. Harry, noticing this, asked, "What's the matter?"

"He…he acted a lot like…like an old boyfriend of mine who went missing," Aerith admitted. "I got the strangest feeling that I wasn't talking to the real Cloud. Like I saw glimpses of the real Cloud here and there, but mixed in with Zack and someone else, someone colder." She then turned her eyes back to Harry. "Sorry, we were talking about you, weren't we? You got sent to prison for revenge? How many people did you kill?"

"Too many, or not enough, depending," Harry rasped. "People who hated other people for either not being born with magic, or else being born with magic to normal parents, or else helping those people. Muggles, Mudbloods, and Blood-traitors, they called them. But for killing those people, who had slaughtered so many others and gotten away with it, I was sent to Hell on Earth. I don't even know whether I deserved it or not. So, that's what I am, Aerith. What will you do, knowing you have someone like me here?"

Aerith stared at him, before she closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, a glow was within them. " _Great Gospel_ ," she intoned.

The words, while quietly spoken, had power. A sudden rain shower pelted the three of them, before Harry could see what looked like sunlight and clouds (underground?!), and a trio of angelic figures wheeling overhead. Golden light suffused the area, and suddenly, Harry felt the life re-enter his limbs, the pain banished, his head clearer than it had for a long time.

"What was that?" he asked, standing, a little shakily, but now by himself. He was still badly emaciated, and would need a decent meal or a hundred, not to mention a lot of therapy sessions, but he felt better than he had for ages.

"A Limit Break," Aerith explained. "At certain times, when emotion wells up, usually within battle, you can use special abilities. And Harry, one of my compatriots was the leader of an eco-terrorist group. His desire is in the right place, but not his methods. I may not be able to condone what you did, but I will forgive you. Even so, I am pressed for time, and I may need your help anyway." From her hair, where it was tied into a ribbon, she plucked a pale green orb.

Luna boggled, her eyes wide. "Materia!"

"Materia?" Harry asked. He noticed that the orb was not unlike the ones Luna had set into her bangle, save for the colour.

"A magical focus," Luna said. "Even Muggles, providing they have some small magical potential, can use them. The ones I have used to belong to the Flamels. The Flamels were never human, you see. They were Summon beings."

Aerith blinked. "Summons? Which ones?"

"Ixion and Valefor."

"I don't get it," Harry said.

"The Flamels were magical creatures who migrated from this world to ours, Harry," Luna explained. "All you have to do is suffuse the Materia with enough magic, and they can come out and help us. Nicholas Flamel takes the form of Ixion, a massive unicorn with the power of electrical attacks, while Perenelle Flamel becomes Valefor, a winged beast that uses wind attacks and an energy blast."

Aerith nodded, before showing her own Materia. "This is the ultimate White Materia. Holy."

"It's sort of pale green," Harry observed.

"Excuse him, he's still recovering from wrackspurts," Luna said to Aerith's confusion and Harry's irritation.

"Oh, he's right," Aerith said, with a soft giggle. "I once told Cloud that it was good for nothing. But once it's activated, it will glow with holy light. Knowing Sephiroth, he may have a countermeasure for it, other than killing me. I sealed the entrance to this place in the house above in case he or the others have arrived sooner. That should buy enough time to activate Holy, especially now that I have you."

"Me?" Harry asked. "But…I haven't even used Materia!"

"It's easy," Luna said. "Far easier than learning the Patronus, anyway. It just needs a mental effort and a vocal trigger to activate, isn't that right?" This last was directed at Aerith, who nodded.

"With Holy, it's only a little harder, as we have to, effectively, pray to the Planet. All you have to do is focus on the Materia, and pray. And follow my lead."

Harry was no stranger to prayer. Even though he had been, if he but knew the term, an agnostic (what cruel god would make him to stay at the Dursleys? Oh, wait, Dumbledore, the well-meaning ineffectual puppet-master who didn't give as much a crap about happiness as he liked to show), he nonetheless prayed many a night for salvation from the Dursleys. His time at Hogwarts once led him to believe his prayers had been answered…but that turned out to be just one hell exchanged for a lesser one…and then for a greater one.

But like Hermione once told him, he had a 'saving people thing'. And so, he smiled grimly, and said, "Okay. Let's save the world."

* * *

When they had finished activating Holy, Harry stood for a moment, trying to get the feeling back into his legs from sitting for so long. And trying to clear the fog from his brain. Aerith handed him a vial. "Drink it," she said. "It's a Turbo Ether. It replenishes your magic reserves completely."

Sceptically, he drank the liquid, which tasted a bit like a sweet cup of tea. Almost instantly, the fog from his brain cleared. Aerith herself drank one, and gave one to Luna. It had been tiring for the three of them. "I still am surprised that a Jenova creature helped me," Aerith said, as she put the now-glowing Materia away. "I must say I'm still a little wary, but…you're certainly nicer."

"My parents loved me very much," Luna said simply. "And I know more about Jenova's true origins than even Sephiroth or Jenova here know. Jenova's story is quite a sad one, really." Suddenly, her eyes flickered upwards, to the top of the vast chamber. "I think your friends are here."

"And Holy is activated," Aerith said. Then, she shivered. "Luna…"

"Yes, I know. Sephiroth's here," Luna said, her eyes wider than before. "Merlin, what a power. He makes Voldemort look like a kitten."

"Will he use your friend against you again?" Harry asked.

"I wouldn't be surprised. He wants to break Cloud as much as possible. But I may need your help."

Harry nodded, as did Luna. "I'll do what I can."

Aerith smiled. "Thank you, Harry, and Luna." She gestured to the ceiling. "The door is open. And Cloud and the others are coming. Stay there," she said, indicating the edge of the platform.

Harry did as he was bidden, and watched as Aerith knelt down and made as if she was praying. He began to hear voices from above.

"…wasn't there before. Why now?" The voice was that of a young woman, about Aerith's age.

"Who cares? We can help Aerith, Tifa!" This was definitely an older man, deep and powerful. It reminded Harry a bit too much of his uncle, though he thought that it sounded a bit like Mr T.

"But what if it's a trap?" the first voice, presumably Tifa, said. Harry remembered Aerith's descriptions of the young woman, and hoped that she would be friendly.

"Then it's a trap," said the low, calm voice of a young man. "Tifa, Barrett, keep a close eye on me. Remember what happened at the Temple."

"I remember, you spiky-haired fool, Cloud. You went batshit insane and started to whale on Aerith. I'll gladly do the same again!"

So the young man was Cloud. Which presumably meant that the Mr T soundalike was Barrett.

"Good. The others are standing guard, just in case. I'm not sure what they can do against Sephiroth, but if we're lucky, they can bar his way."

"And once we find Aerith?" Tifa asked.

"We help her, and then get out of here, and stop Sephiroth."

Barrett chuckled. "Simple. I like it."

The newcomers finally arrived at the stepping stones just before the platform. He heard Cloud asking them to stay back for the moment while he went across first. Then, he climbed the steps to the platform.

He was relatively young, maybe about Harry's age, with a muscled body clad in a purple set of coveralls. His blonde hair stuck up in prodigal spikes, and his blue eyes glowed gently. His face seemed made for perpetual frowning, but was handsome enough. His eyes and Harry's met, and his narrowed. "Who are you?"

"Harry Potter," Harry said. "I'm guessing you're Cloud. This is Luna Lovegood."

Cloud suddenly convulsed, drawing the massive sword from his back, and holding it unsteadily in front of him, his eyes both anguished and murderous. However, Luna stared into his eyes. "You will not pull his strings," she hissed, her eyes glowing a bit like Cloud's. Suddenly, as if he was a puppet whose strings were cut, Cloud sagged to one knee.

He stared at Luna, before he asked, "What the hell are you?"

"Well, I just cleared Sephiroth's influence from you, so I guess I could be a friend," Luna said with a smile.

Aerith smiled, opening her eyes, and looking at Cloud. "See? You can break free, with some help. I knew you'd come, Cloud."

For a moment, Harry thought that the moment of danger had passed, and he looked up idly, wondering what the others that Cloud mentioned were doing. And then, his eyes widened.

Something was falling, blocking out the light. At first, Harry thought it was maybe the body of one of Cloud's friends, only to see the black cloak, the silver hair, and the long, thin sword. The malice rolled off the man in waves, and the posture suggested his dive, sword pointed downwards, was deliberate. He hadn't seen a picture, but he could only guess that this was the infamous Sephiroth. And he seemed set to turn Aerith into a shish-kebab.

On instinct, unwilling to let something bad happen to a friend (well, Aerith wasn't a friend yet, but her good nature had already appealed to Harry), he thrust out a hand. "ACCIO, _AERITH!_ "

It was just in the nick of time. With an undignified yelp, Aerith flew across and smashed into Harry, sending them to the floor, Aerith on top of Harry. But a minor loss of dignity was a small price to pay for preventing a major loss of life. A split-second later, Sephiroth's sword bit into the tile of the platform.

Harry felt a chill run down his spine when Sephiroth straightened, pulling his sword out of the floor with little effort, and turning his attention to Harry. The man was tall and muscled, his exposed skin incredibly pale. His clothing was darker than the most moonless night, save for the silver pauldrons on his shoulders. His face was thin and elegant, and it could have been beautiful had it not been so cruel-looking. Long, feminine strands of silver hair framed that face. But it was the eyes, cold, pale green, and slitted of pupils, that held Harry. They were the eyes of a predator, and they had him in their grasp.

"Well," Sephiroth purred in a cultured tone, "this was unexpected…"

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Once more, Harry saves Aerith's life. But this time, it is Luna who manages to help Cloud overcome Sephiroth's control.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**

 **CHAPTER 2 SOUNDTRACK:**

 **The Chamber of Holy** **:** ** _The Nightmare Begins_** **(FTG).**

 **Cloud Approaches** **:** ** _Trail of Blood_** **(FTG).**


	13. The New Cetra Heritage: Imago Chapter 3

_**THE NEW CETRA HERITAGE: IMAGO**_

 **CHAPTER 3:**

 **J-E-N-O-V-A: C-H-R-Y-S-A-L-I-S**

Although he projected an outwardly calm demeanour, Sephiroth felt both frustration and surprise. He had expected Cloud to falter. Unfortunately, that loathsome parody of his mother had thwarted him. Even now, she stood there, glaring at him with a raised, chiding eyebrow. And to make matters worse, he had been thwarted in an attempt to do his dirty work himself, albeit via one of his 'copies' that he had controlled. Sephiroth thanked no deity other than himself that Hojo had that experimentation fetish. The man was a pathetic scientist, but he had his uses.

But to have Aerith pulled away at the last second by a scarecrow of a young man, dressed in ragged clothes Sephiroth was annoyed. But he was also surprised, and this didn't happen often. The last time was when Cloud, as a teenaged Shinra trooper, had managed to attack Sephiroth from behind.

At least this time, it was merely a frustrating setback to an admittedly optional part of the plan. He knew, judging by the glowing Materia on Aerith's head, that Holy had been activated. But that meant little. He had enough knowledge pilfered from the Lifestream to know how to block it. His intention for killing Aerith was more to attack the group psychologically anyway, leaving them less capable of fighting back against him. Removing the last Ancient was a bonus.

It was funny. He used to think he was an Ancient, one of the rightful heirs to the Planet. Well, he was half-right, anyway. But he was far better than they ever were. The Ancients were mere humans with an extra ability. Whereas he was far more than just a mere human.

He hefted his sword, Masamune, into a casual position. The sword was laced with a poison that prevented Phoenix Downs or Life magic from being used. He smiled, inwardly, remembering skewering that pig of a Shinra President, and leaving a facsimile of the sword behind to sow the seeds of fear in those who found the corpse. A fitting marker to his advent(1).

He appraised the newcomers carefully. The young man, struggling out from underneath Aerith, had old eyes, the same colour as Aerith's, but filled with a darkness and cynicism. Even now, he glared at Sephiroth defiantly, despite his fear. The glare was matched by that parody of his mother, the silver-haired harpy who seemed to look at him like he was a naughty child.

Maintaining his composure, even given his annoyance, was easy. This was merely a small annoyance.

"You found another ally, it seems, Cloud. Two, in fact."

"I've never seen them before," Cloud retorted, and he seemed to be telling the truth.

"I'm Harry Potter. That's Luna Lovegood. And I'm guessing you're Sephiroth, right?" the young man asked.

"Indeed." Sephiroth turned his gaze back to Cloud. The young man and that parody of his mother was less of a threat than even his pursuers, and they were little more than flies. Bothersome and dirty, but easily swatted.

And then, there was the other issue. Sephiroth wasn't going to deal with it now, but there was a small part of the Jenova consciousness within him that dissented with him, if only because it wanted to remain independent from him. Ludicrous. Jenova's cells and its consciousness sought unity at all times, and Sephiroth WAS that consciousness, now and forever. Perhaps he could deal with that issue now, by implanting that consciousness into the Jenova organism he intended to leave with them. He knew that those present could deal with it easily enough. And it would weaken them further. Win, win, as the masses said so wearily often.

Time to inject some discord to hasten Cloud's breakdown. "Well, you came to save the fair maiden," Sephiroth remarked sardonically. "But she has found her own protectors, it seems. How does it feel, Cloud, to know how readily replaceable you are?"

"Shut up!" Cloud snarled.

"Oh, is that anger? But it can't be. You do not have real feelings, Cloud, for you see…"

Sephiroth shot into the air, ready to leave them to their battle. As a parting gift, he threw down the Jenova organism, and shouted(2), "You're nothing more than a puppet!"

* * *

It all happened so fast. As Sephiroth shouted his last words, something hit the platform, a grotesque, wriggling thing, like part of an alien body. Suddenly, it sprouted, growing with ridiculous speed, into…

…a monster.

It towered over the rest of them, easily. It was the purple of a bruise and the red of an open wound. It had a vaguely feminine outline, but it wasn't even remotely human, with thick wings of grotesque flesh splayed out in a parody of an angel. The head was long with deep-set eyes and a muzzle filled with fangs. A heart, or perhaps some other organ, pulsated macabrely on its side.

Four of those present recognised it immediately. A Jenova monster, similar to the creature they fought on the ship from Junon.

Luna made a face. "Oh, the Nargles haven't been kind to you, have they?" she asked.

The creature, by way of a response, fired a beam of energy at Luna, sending her crashing into a wall. As she got to her feet, she said, "That was very rude!" She took one of the Materia from her bangle, and tossed it to Harry. "Harry, use Ixion!"

Harry nodded, and concentrated on the orb. Almost immediately, a massive unicorn-like beast appeared, and said, " _Well met again, Harry. Now, let us teach this creature a lesson, hmm?_ " It was the voice of Flamel, but echoing and ethereal.

"Okay, unleash hell on it," Harry said.

" _Oh, I intend to unleash something more interesting than mere hell_ ," Flamel, or Ixion, replied. Electricity gathered around his horn, and then smashed into the creature. " _THOR'S HAMMER!_ " he bellowed.

That seemed to be the cue for the others to enter the fray. Cloud and the buxom young woman, presumably Tifa, launched themselves at the monster, Cloud swinging his enormous sword at the creature, while Tifa used her fists, covered in a special armoured glove. The huge black man, presumably Barrett, roared as he fired round after round from the machine gun mounted on the end of his right arm (where was his hand?). Aerith called down bolts of lightning upon the creature, which shrieked, and lashed out, sending Tifa flying.

Tifa hit the wall hard, but she became briefly surrounded by a glow. "You just volunteered for my Limit Break, bitch," she snarled at Jenova. Suddenly, she leapt at the creature, her fists flying in a blur, dancing around the creature.

"Omnislash!" Cloud bellowed after being hit by a burst of cyan energy, before leaping at the creature and slashing it repeatedly with his sword in a series of blindingly rapid blows.

The battle was soon over, the creature leaking green blood from a hundred different wounds. But as it lurched Harry's way, Luna stepped in front of it, and said, "No. Not him. Me. We are the same. We will have a Reunion."

The creature seemed to consider her words, before suddenly exploding into a shower of green slime, which paused mid-explosion, and then sped into Luna's body. After a moment, when the green slime disappeared, Luna murmured, "Mother…it is time to let go of your madness. We weren't always this way. I don't want to cage you…but I don't want you to hurt my friends, either." She convulsed briefly, before she sagged to her knees, panting.

Barrett looked over at Harry, crossing his arms. "Who're you?"

"Harry Potter, formerly the Boy Who Lived, currently tired and a little pissed off. That's Luna Lovegood, who I thought died in front of my eyes, but turned out to be part-alien entity. Jenova or something? Anyway, we both come from another world. I was broken out of prison by Luna, and brought here. And that's about as far as I will go for the moment," Harry said. His stomach growled loudly, as if to emphasise the point.

"Damn, but you're little more than skin and bones. I'd say you were from Corel Desert Prison, but you're too pale."

Cloud stepped forward, looking Harry up and down, before deciding that, despite appearing with a Jenova creature, he had helped save Aerith's life. "Thanks," Cloud said. "For saving her."

"'S no problem," Harry slurred, tiredness catching up to him. "Can we…can we rest somewhere for a moment?" Then, he swooned, darkness consuming him as he slumped to the ground…

* * *

Barrett caught the young man as he collapsed. "Poor bastard's worn out."

"He only just escaped from a jail that sucks the very life, magic, and happiness from one's soul," Luna observed. "That, plus a pretty big battle, well…" She turned to Cloud. "Oh, and by the way…" She skipped over to him, and, grasping his head, kissed him deeply. The lot of them were too stunned to do anything, until Luna released him.

"What the hell did you do to him?" Tifa asked.

"Removed the Jenova cells within him," Luna said. "Well, they're more like my cells now. I am…well, will be Jenova. The true Jenova, as she was before she became the Calamity from the Skies. Before the wrackspurts took her mind from her. Anyway, you now won't fall under Sephiroth's mind control anymore. Isn't that nice?"

Cloud was blinking, his mouth open in astonishment, before he growled, "Never do that again."

"Save your life?"

"At least tell me what you're doing before you do it!" Cloud snapped.

"You would have said no," Luna pouted. "Wrackspurts will do that to you."

"What the fuck are wrackspurts?!" Barrett demanded.

"I don't think we want to know," Tifa remarked. "If you did remove those things from Cloud, then thanks, Luna." Her eyes flickered over to Aerith. "What were you doing here?"

"Preparing a countermeasure. Sephiroth has the Black Materia, and he can summon Meteor any time. I think he'll wait until he's ready to do so, though. But there is the White Materia, the Ultimate White Magic. Holy."

Cloud's eyes widened as he made the connection. "Your so-called 'useless Materia'! It was Holy?!"

Aerith nodded. "Mother told me after the whole Temple fiasco. I came here to use it. Holy is perhaps the only thing capable of stopping Meteor before it destroys the Planet. Even so, Sephiroth probably knew that I've already activated it."

"Then why did he try to kill you?" Tifa asked.

"It's obvious," Cloud said. "He's attacking us psychologically, sowing discord, just as he did by taking control of me. Killing you could very well have broken us. What about these two?"

"Oh, we come from another world where magic exists but is hidden. There were natural mages before, but a mass exodus of Cetra to that world bulked up the magical population," Luna said with a cheerful grin. "Harry and I are descendants of that Cetra Exodus. And I was the culmination of a secret society's attempt at giving Jenova new form. Long story short, Harry got chucked into prison, I learned more than a few things about Jenova, well, myself, and I set to busting Harry out of here, and, well, coming home."

"And he saved your life, Aerith," Cloud said, flatly. He didn't sound disappointed, but almost offended, like he didn't quite get the chance himself. Then again, he didn't look up at the right time. Maybe Aerith would have died if Harry hadn't been there.

"And hurt my dignity into the bargain," Aerith said ruefully. "He can use magic without Materia, or even using a Limit Break. I can do the same, but it's very tiring." Then, suddenly very serious and solemn, she turned to face them both. "Tifa, Cloud, once Harry is awake, we will head to Icicle Inn. And I think we need to have a discussion about something. Or rather, someone…"

* * *

As they climbed the steps out of the chamber, Luna heard the voice of her mother, or even herself, speak to her. _Why do you cage me, child? You are no better than Sephiroth._

 _I won't let you harm my friends, Jenova_ , Luna sent back. _And I am not just your child. I am you. I am close to what you should be, a chrysalis of your true self, soon to become an imago. Your so-called son sent you to die. Would you prefer dispersal and death to life?_

 _I would prefer freedom even more. I have merely exchanged one cage for another. And you are a chrysalis of my true self? Don't make me laugh. You are but a child, and an insolent and insane one at that. Whereas I am ancient, and powerful, and experienced in far more than you._

 _Really? Then answer me this, Mother_ , Luna retorted. _Where do we come from? What are we? Why are we on this Planet? You think you know. But I suspect an even greater, and more horrifying truth. But you don't want to listen to reason. I'm sorry, but it's all the wrackspurts._

 _…What the FUCK are wrackspurts?! You are even more insane than that prodigal son of mine!_

 _You still do not see, Mother. But in time, you will. You_ _ **will**_ _see what I have. Only then will this be a true Reunion…_

 **CHAPTER 3 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Things turn out similar to the original story, except Luna absorbs Jenova's consciousness here.**

 **The following annotations are copied and pasted from Harry Potter and the Cetra Heritage…**

 **1\. My explanation as to why Aerith (or President Shinra, for that matter) couldn't simply be revived with Life magic or a Phoenix Down. It would be like Sephiroth to lace his weapons with such a substance. At least in** ** _Final Fantasy V_** **, the party does try to use such items to save a certain party member after a fatal fight against Exdeath. Presumably either Cloud didn't need revival with such things at Nibelheim, or else Sephiroth hadn't used the substance on the Masamune yet. In addition, I believe Sephiroth merely left a facsimile of his sword in President Shinra's back.**

 **2\. Sephiroth in the main game is capable of shouting, but in most works where he is voiced, he is supernaturally calm (George Newbern as Sephiroth is bloody scary). I decided to mix in him suddenly shouting for emphasis. Think a little like similar scenes in fiction. One I had in mind was Moriarty in** ** _Sherlock: The Great Game_** **, responding to Sherlock's pointing out that people had died in their game. Moriarty says, initially calmly, "That's what people** ** _DO!_** **" Some scenes with the Doctor, particularly the Ninth Doctor rebuking the Daleks for interrupting him in** ** _Doctor Who: The Parting of the Ways_** **, also come to mind. And, of course, there is Kadaj's rebuke to Cloud's assertion that he is a puppet. "Once upon a time…** ** _YOU WERE TOO!_** **"**

 **CHAPTER 3 SOUNDTRACK:**

 **Sephiroth Staredown** **:** ** _Those Chosen By The Planet_** **(FTG).**

 **Kill Jenova!** **:** ** _J-E-N-O-V-A_** **(FTG).**

 **Harry, Unconscious** **:** ** _Anxious Heart_** **(FTG).**


	14. The New Cetra Heritage: Imago Chapter 4

_**THE NEW CETRA HERITAGE: IMAGO**_

 **CHAPTER 4:**

 **LET'S GET THIS PARTY ON THE ROAD**

Light seared his retinas as Harry woke up. He groaned a little in pain. Given that there was a distinct absence of the depressingly familiar sensation of Dementors sucking his happiness and magic from his soul, though, it was something of a relief to discover that it wasn't a dream, that he was out of Azkaban. Okay, he was involved in another save the world quest, but he could deal with that.

"He's waking up," said an unfamiliar voice right next to him, a low, gentle voice. Harry turned to look at the speaker, only to lock eyes with…was that a mountain lion?

Harry yelped in fright, and the mountain lion, amazingly, recoiled. "It's okay!" the creature said, being apparently the one who spoke earlier. "I'm not going to hurt you!"

After a moment, Harry said, "Okay, we've got a talking mountain lion. Not the weirdest thing I've ever seen in my life by a long shot. Are you with Aerith and the others?"

The mountain lion nodded. "I'm Nanaki. Luna told us you were Harry Potter. Are you feeling better?"

"A little." He looked around the house they were in, which seemed to have weird décor. With the spiral shape, it was like being inside a giant seashell. Then again, no less weird than having a talking mountain lion watch over you when you were asleep.

Aerith and a group of others entered. "I'm sorry, Harry," Aerith said. "Had I known you were going to wake so soon, I would have left someone other than Nanaki here."

Nanaki inclined his head. Harry saw that he had red and orange fur, with a mane like a Mohawk, adorned with a piece of jewellery like a feather. The tip of his tail glowed like it was on fire. He had a number of scars and tattoos, and seemed to be missing an eye. "Okay, it's fine. As long as you aren't going to maul me or anything…" Harry said.

"Oh, I mauled Hojo something fierce," Nanaki said, with something that could pass as a smirk. "He trapped me and Aerith together, and expected us to mate. All in the name of science, so he claimed, but I reckon it was his fetish(1)."

Aerith came over to Harry, and gently touched his brow. "Are you all right, Harry?"

"Yeah. For a given value of 'all right', though this is better than Azkaban," Harry remarked, sitting up in the bed. He realised he had been dressed in new clothes, basically plain trousers and a shirt. He then looked at the people who had entered. Not counting Aerith or Nanaki or Luna, there were seven people present. He had met three of them already. Cloud was obvious. Then, there was the busty young woman woman in the tight-fitting tank-top and miniskirt, with the long black hair and warm brown eyes. That was Tifa, if he remembered. And the big, burly black man with the beard and the gun instead of a right arm was Barrett. But he didn't know the others. What a motley lot they were.

"Well, you've met Cloud, Tifa, and Barrett. I'll let the others introduce themselves."

The first to come up was a girl in her teens with short black hair and Asiatic features. "Hey there, Harry. I'm the great ninja of Wutai, Yuffie Kisaragi!"

"More like great Materia thief," sniffed Barrett.

Yuffie rounded on Barrett, but Aerith put a calming hand on Yuffie's shoulder. "Anyway, Yuffie is the daughter of Lord Godo, the ruler of Wutai. While we've had our differences, she's decided to join us to the very end." Confidentially, she whispered to Harry, "She wants our Materia when we're done with it."

"Hey, nothing wrong with that!" Yuffie protested.

The next person to come forward was a blonde-haired man, tall and with rough and rugged features. A cigarette packet was stuck in the headband of the goggles pushed up on his forehead, and a spear was on his back. "Hi, Harry. The name's Cid Highwind. Tell me, did they ever make it into space on your world?"

"Umm, yeah. They even landed on the Moon a few times, years ago."

This provoked an interesting reaction from Cid. He let loose a tirade of expletives. Harry flinched at the stream of invective coming from Cid. Eventually, the older man calmed down. "Damn. Sorry 'bout that. I was gonna be the first man into space on this world."

"Well, maybe you still can be. Dunno whether you can, but, well…"

"You sayin' hold onto my dreams? Well, can't fault that."

The next one that Aerith had introduce himself sent a shiver down Harry's spine. He was tall and thin, with dark hair framing his face. A tattered red cloak covered much of his body, with him wearing black clothing underneath. The high collar of the cloak and the red bandanna the man wore concealed much of his face. He also wore a golden gauntlet, and similar boots. But his manner, while distant, was cordial. "Vincent Valentine. Thank you for helping Aerith."

As he moved away, the next one appeared, and he was the most bizarre of them all. At first, Harry thought that the large white…thing with the wide, betusked mouth and pathetically small purple bat wings was the one, but then, a cat perched on top of the first thing waved, and said, in somewhere between a Scottish and Southern accent, "I'm up here! Cait Sith, at your service! Fortuneteller, raconteur…"

"…and a spy for Shinra," Cloud added pointedly. "We're only letting him tag along because he's been useful."

The cat looked rather down, despite the fact that it seemed to perpetually smile. It even wore a cape and a crown. "Wow, Cloud, you really know how to bring a guy down. Didn't I prove myself at the Temple of the Ancients?"

"Look, your little sentimental speech as you sacrificed that body was nice and all," Cloud said, "but you're really at Shinra."

"And I'd be willing to put money on who you really are," Tifa said, her eyes narrowing.

"Anyway," Aerith said, "you've met Nanaki. When we first met him, he called himself 'Red XIII'. That was Professor Hojo's way of classifying him as a specimen. We learned his real name at his birthplace, Cosmo Canyon. So we've called him by his real name ever since."

"Hey, nice to meet you," Harry said. "Luna, did you tell them my life story?"

"The abridged version," Luna said.

"Thanks. Saves a lot of exposition…I mean, explanation," Harry said, getting shakily to his feet. A nasty thought occurred to him. "By the way, who dressed me?"

"I did," Luna said.

"Of course you did," Harry groaned. Luna thought 'societal norms' to be a group of upwardly mobile Muggles. "So, are we staying here, or are we heading somewhere else, or what?"

"We'll be heading to Icicle Inn from behind the City of the Ancients," Cloud said. "Luna explained something about the Reunion, and how it may have been drawing me towards Sephiroth. I need no such lure. He destroyed my hometown and Tifa's. He's trying to destroy the world. I don't like bringing Luna along with us, so if you're coming with us, I will be keeping an eye on you both."

Luna rolled her eyes. "Yep, the wrackspurts are still affecting you."

* * *

After traversing through some caves, they had emerged onto a snowy mountainside. Tifa, who had thought ahead, had brought jackets for everyone. She had brought one for Vincent, but he claimed not to feel the cold, so the jacket went to Harry. Luna eschewed asking for one. She didn't feel the cold either, she claimed.

Tifa thought about the events of the past while, of Cloud being controlled by Sephiroth in the Temple of the Ancients, about Aerith disappearing. Cait Sith, before going off to sacrifice one of his remote-controlled bodies, had checked Cloud and Aerith's compatibility, while Tifa was nearby. Cait Sith's proclamation had hurt, that Aerith and Cloud were made for each other. So why was Aerith being so guarded around Cloud now? Was it his attack, caused by Sephiroth influencing Cloud? Or was it something else?

As it was, Harry seemed to gravitate to Aerith, something she noticed Cloud not liking. But the two of them approached, and Aerith said to Tifa, "How about we bring up the rear? Cloud, Barrett, and Cid are taking point."

"A good idea," Tifa said. She got the hidden message. _I want to talk without people listening in_.

However, it seemed that someone would be listening in anyway. The lanky, sinister form of Vincent Valentine joined them, his shot-rifle ready by his side. "Vincent…" Aerith said, before Vincent held up a hand.

"I have concerns about Cloud too. We all do. But I think I know part of the answer," he said in his raspy voice. "Jenova cells."

"Jenova cells?" Tifa asked. "Didn't Luna remove them?"

Vincent inclined his head in a nod. "Though she is a Jenova creature, I sense no deceit from her, merely…"

"Insanity?" Harry asked wryly.

"Eccentricity," Vincent corrected.

"Potato, Potahto," Harry said.

"Who the fuck says potahto?" Tifa asked(2).

"It's not quite the Jenova cells," Aerith said. "It's what they've done to Cloud. Luna mentioned that they mess with memory, and I've realised he is so like…like…Zack."

Tifa gave a start, but she couldn't hide it in time from Harry. "You knew him, didn't you?" he asked.

"Only briefly," Tifa said. "Look, Aerith, I don't know what you're implying…"

"I'm implying nothing, Tifa. I'm speculating. But I've seen the way you look at Cloud when he talks about Nibelheim. It's like you don't quite believe him," Aerith said.

Tifa hesitated, feeling like she was about to confess to a crime. But then, in a low, hesitant voice, she said, "That's because…he wasn't there. I thought I saw him once, but I was bleeding out from a wound Sephiroth gave me, and…"

"Oh, he was there." They whirled with a start (even the usually stoic Vincent) to find Luna behind them. They then looked to where Luna was, up ahead, engaged in a snowball fight with Yuffie, Cait Sith, and Nanaki, and then back again. "What?" Luna asked. "I'm a Jenova creature. I can split off extra bodies. That's why the Reunion came about in the first place, to bring those pieces back together. But the Jenova cells I absorbed from Cloud carried his memories, and those of Zack. It took me a while to go through them and disentangle them. Oh, and Aerith, that was so funny, that whole thing in Wall Market when you had him dress up as a woman."

Harry blinked. "What?"

"Long story. Cloud wanted to try and rescue me, even though I didn't need rescuing," Tifa said. "Funny thing was, he got picked by Don Corneo as his paramour for the night. Anyway, what do you mean, he was there? I didn't see him."

"You didn't see his face. Tifa, Cloud never made it into SOLDIER," Luna said. "Zack did. Cloud was ashamed to show his face in Nibelheim because he never made it into SOLDIER like he promised you. He was a mere Shinra trooper, and he hid his face behind a helmet. He did take it off when he helped save you."

"He…he really was there?"

"Yeah, but he and Zack got captured by Hojo, and got experimented upon. Cloud got a bad case of Mako poisoning, and, well, that, plus the Jenova cell infusion and Zack telling him about what happened at Nibelheim, well, Cloud conflated the memories together. And his personality is part Zack, and part what he thinks a SOLDIER should be like." She looked over at Aerith. Quietly, she said, "Cloud saw Zack murdered by a group of Shinra troopers right in front of him. The only thing that saved him from the same fate was his near-comatose state."

Aerith's face fell, before she leaned a little more into Harry. Harry looked at Vincent. "How do you know about the Jenova cells?"

"I can sense them. And I did not spend all of my time asleep in a coffin, which was where they found me," the sinister man replied.

"Of course you slept in a coffin. Do you drink blood too?" Harry snarked.

"It was out of penitence for my role in allowing Sephiroth to be born," Vincent retorted. "On occasion, I ventured out to read the notes Hojo left behind in the laboratory, in hope of understanding what he did to me. He spoke of a Reunion Theory, and of the control Jenova cells can exert on other beings. I did not read much, for what I did read repulsed me."

"And Shinra took or destroyed many of the notes," Tifa murmured. "So the people at Nibelheim, the ones who claimed it had never burnt down…"

"Hired by Shinra. Presumably to cover up after Sephiroth's rampage," Aerith said. "It's the only sane explanation I can think of."

Vincent snorted. "And the actual survivors doubtless became Hojo's guinea pigs, like Luna said about Cloud and Zack."

Tifa, at this, frowned. "But…what of me?"

"I don't know. Someone may have found you first and took you away."

"Maybe it was Zangan," Tifa said. "My old martial arts tutor. The problem is, I don't know what happened to him."

"Probably had to flee Shinra's troops," Vincent said. "The real problem is, how do we tell Cloud? If he does have an amalgam of Zack's memories with his own, once the inconsistencies are pointed out to him, he may have a breakdown."

"I know that!" Tifa snapped. "But I've been afraid to tell him that I haven't seen him for seven years, rather than the five he thought it was. That I never saw him at Nibelheim, except in a shock-induced delirium. That you told me he was there, Luna, is a relief. I was worried…worried he might be something else. A cuckoo in AVALANCHE. First, Shinra's cuckoo, and then, Sephiroth's. Only his actions seemed to prove otherwise…"

As Tifa trailed off, Aerith nodded sympathetically. "But he isn't. He is Cloud. And without the Jenova cells within him…"

"He's less of a liability, right?" Harry asked.

"Right," Aerith said. "We'll tell him at Icicle Inn, up ahead. And there's another reason why I want to go there."

"Two reasons," Vincent said quietly. "Professor Gast Faremis …and Ifalna."

Tifa frowned. She knew that Ifalna was Aerith's mother. Hojo had mentioned her in the board meeting at Shinra HQ almost a few weeks ago, and when they confronted Hojo at the Costa del Sol beach, he had mentioned her then while being his usual callous self to Aerith. "Gast? Didn't Cloud say that he was the head of the Jenova Project? What did he have to do with your mother, Aerith?"

Aerith was quiet for a moment, before she said, "He was my father. My birth name was Aerith Faremis. And his private laboratory, where he changed from studying my mother to loving her, is in Icicle Inn. I think we might find some answers there…"

 **CHAPTER 4 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Luna taking the role of Minerva as expositioneer extraordinaire in this work.**

 **1\. Which Hojo freely admits in episode 9 of** ** _Final Fantasy VII: Machinabridged_** **, so gleefully and hammily, the screen shakes and the colours warp from his admission.**

 **2\. Another reference to the same episode as the above annotation. When called out on calling Aerith 'Aeris', Barrett merely remarks, 'Potato, potahto', and Tifa responds in the same manner.**

 **CHAPTER 4 SOUNDTRACK:**

 **Harry Meets the Gang** **:** ** _Barret's Theme_** **(FTG). Yes, I know I'm misspelling Barrett's name in the fanfic. It's a bad habit. Deal with it.**

 **A Heart to Heart Talk** **:** ** _Anxious Heart_** **(FTG).**


	15. The New Cetra Heritage: Imago Chapter 5

_**THE NEW CETRA HERITAGE: IMAGO**_

 **CHAPTER 5:**

 **CONFRONTATIONS AT THE ICICLE INN**

 _They had left him, bleeding and dying on the floor of his home. They had taken everything he had truly valued away from him. That bastard Hojo had taken Ifalna, and Aerith, away from him._

 _But there was one last thing he could do._

 _He knew he was dead. All the way up here in Icicle Inn, there wasn't medical facilities good enough for more than broken bones and sprained ankles sustained by skiiers and snowboarders. Hypothermia was also treatable._

 _Gunshot wounds weren't. And he'd need to be airlifted to the nearest hospital. He would probably die, even if Shinra didn't interfere._

 _Better, then, to resign himself to his fate, and make the most of his time. He couldn't do anything to stop Hojo, but he could do something else._

 _Hojo needed them alive. And that meant that, sooner or later, they might escape, they might come back. Aerith would know her mother, but may never know her real father._

 _He managed to find the camera, not the one Hojo had his minions shoot, but the one he had been taking home movies of baby Aerith with. A portable camera, and one which he could use with one hand, while he kept the other clapped over his bleeding side._

 _"Gast Faremis Recording…Final. Intended recipient: Aerith Faremis. To anyone other than Aerith who listens to this, know that this is meant for my daughter. If anyone at Shinra finds this, and has even a shred of conscience, they will give it to her, or else tell her where to find it."_

 _Sighing, gathering himself, hoping that the drugs he injected himself with would help ease the pain long enough to do what he needed to, he began to speak._

 _"Hi, Aerith. I…I wonder what you look like now, when you're watching this, or even if you're watching this. Are you five? Ten? Twenty? I hope you know I'm your father, Gast Faremis. Mostly known as Professor Gast. The Wisest Fool of all the Planet."_

 _He winced, feeling a sharp stab of pain through the fog of opiate painkillers. Rallying, he pressed on._

 _"I hope your mother is with you. As much as I'd love to see her again, I know the only way that will happen is if she returns to the Planet, and…" He let out a pained sob. "Aerith, I hope your mother told you the truth about how we met. It wasn't in some romantic moment. Rather, she was a prisoner, a specimen brought to me and Hojo. And I was assigned to study her, like some sort of animal. I was so caught up in the excitement of studying an actual Ancient, rather than some fossilized remains, that I forgot that she was a human being. But gradually, that changed. I began to have feelings for her. And then, she told me about Jenova. I had used the name from some Ancient inscriptions I had translated, thinking it was the name of a long-buried Ancient. But when I compared Ifalna's biology to that of Jenova…I knew she was right. I had used a monster to help create monsters, monsters like Sephiroth and Genesis Rhapsodos. I know of at least two Shinra personnel who disappeared during the Jenova Project that I knew well: Vincent Valentine, a Turk, and Professor Lucrezia Crescent, a former paramour of Hojo and the mother of his child: Sephiroth."_

 _He coughed up blood. Not much time now. Not much time before he returned to the Planet. But not before he said his piece._

 _"When we set up here, I originally intended to continue my research, only away from Shinra, and into finding a way of stopping Jenova. But your mother and I…we fell in love. And one day…Ifalna gave birth to you. That was the happiest day of my life, and I had hoped for many more, like when you learned to talk, or to walk. When you'd learn to read, or snow ski. When you have a boyfriend. But…thanks to Hojo, as you may have seen in an earlier video…that isn't to be. I'm dying, Aerith, I'm returning to the Planet. I fear death, I'd be lying if I said otherwise. But I'm afraid I will never see you become the beautiful young woman I know you'll become. But I also must place a terrible burden on you. Shinra needs to be stopped. And the results of their experiments with Jenova…they're threats to the Planet. I have left for you all your mother taught me, as well as what I have learned through my own researches. Use it well, and help save the Planet. Goodbye, Aerith. I hope you make me proud. And…I'm sorry for not protecting you better."_

 _He then shut off the camera, and uploaded the video to his computer database. Within the hour, Professor Gast Faremis had returned to the Planet…_

* * *

Aerith stared at the black screen, not knowing what to think. Of course, her mother hadn't really said much about exactly how they had met (though she mentioned Icicle Inn many times as Aerith's birthplace), but Aerith had been a child at the time, and had always wanted her father painted in the best light. It wasn't until she had been captured by Shinra recently that Hojo strove to put a pin in that particular balloon.

Not that Aerith fully believed Hojo. His cruel words when she was put into the specimen chamber made her doubt the pedestal that her father had been placed on. But she also knew what Hojo was like. He put on a cold-hearted façade, claiming to be a scientist, a creature of logic, but in truth, he was a sadist who liked inflicting pain and suffering. He was an intelligent man, but also an evil one. Even Sephiroth, his son, had, to all accounts, been a decent, if cold and ruthless, man before Nibelheim pushed him into insanity. True, now Sephiroth had become like his father, a sadist who took as much delight in causing physical torment as he did psychological. But he at least had reasons for causing pain, other than personal pleasure. Hojo was simply a sadist for its own ends.

Cloud was staring at the screen, horrified and saddened, as was everyone else present. They had made it to Icicle Inn without trouble, and had been directed to Gast's old house. Aerith would have thought it felt like home. It felt like A home, long abandoned, but not like her home. That was back in Midgar, with Elmyra.

To hear her father confess to her about these things…she felt her earlier doubts lift away. He confessed his sins, though to be honest, the worst of them were to do with Jenova rather than her mother. So she felt no hatred in her heart towards him, just a smidgen of disappointment.

She caught the eyes of Vincent Valentine, who quickly looked away. She remembered when they first met him, the tone of his voice when he mentioned Lucrezia. He had loved her, or at least been smitten with her. No wonder he hated Hojo, and not just because of Sephiroth being enhanced by Jenova cells thanks to Hojo.

"Aerith…" Cloud said, approaching her, "I'm sorry." He meant it, too.

"So am I," Aerith said. "There was a reason other than my father that we came here. Something we should have done long ago. Something everyone needs to hear. Especially you, Cloud."

Cloud blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Sit, please. Because what you're about to hear isn't going to be easy. But you need to hear it." Aerith wondered how best she would begin, before Tifa spoke up.

"Cloud…I never saw you at Nibelheim, save for at the very end, after I was wounded by Sephiroth. And even then, I was nearly dead from my injuries. I only met two SOLDIER members: Sephiroth, and Zack Fair."

Cloud stared at Tifa, as if betrayed. To be fair to him, Aerith knew it felt like one. But before he could deny it, or act in anger, Cait Sith said, "It's true, you know."

"What?" Aerith asked. "What do you mean?"

"I've been pulling all sorts of files from Shinra's military. Heidegger has a lot of files, even those of Lazard Deusericus, the former director of SOLDIER. Cloud Strife did try out for SOLDIER. But he was rejected, and recruited into the regular army, albeit with the possibility that, if he improves, he be promoted to SOLDIER. Last known assignment was heavily redacted, but the dates coincide with those you claim for Nibelheim's destruction."

Cloud went as pale as a sheet, but when Tifa tried to comfort him, he pushed her away. "Why? Why didn't you tell me, Tifa?"

"I…I was scared. Uncertain. I…"

"Don't blame her, Cloud," Aerith said. "I had my own suspicions. You reminded me of my old boyfriend, Zack. The SOLDIER whose memories you share."

"The one from Gongaga!" Cloud exclaimed, remembering Aerith and Tifa's reactions when they met Zack's parents. "But…how do I have his memories?"

"Jenova cells," Vincent said. "You have had a Mako infusion, and Jenova cells. I would put money on Hojo having experimented on you after Nibelheim. You and Zack must have escaped, and he told you what had happened when you weren't around. You were probably in an impressionable state. Hojo probably put you through the same process as those who enter SOLDIER do, and heavy doses of Mako leaves many people in a catatonic state, and the Jenova cells affect memory and appearance. Zack may have talked to you to try and help break you out of your state, not knowing that he was filling in your memories with his own. It was neither your fault nor his own. Unfortunate circumstance led to this. But the Jenova cells within you mean that Sephiroth has a backdoor to your mind and body. That was how he took control at the Temple of the Ancients, and at the altar in the Forgotten City."

"So that's why Cloud smelled…odd," Nanaki spoke up. "He doesn't smell of them now."

"Because I removed them, silly," Luna said. "Sephiroth can't pull his strings now, not through the Jenova cells, anyway."

"He's a master manipulator even without them," Vincent pointed out. "His words and actions are more often than not chosen with care for maximum impact. And he still has his plan. He still has the Black Materia in his possession, and there's no guarantee that he does not have a countermeasure against Holy."

"We will continue to pursue Sephiroth," Cloud declared. "I don't care how much of my memory is from someone else, the pain I felt at Nibelheim's destruction was real enough."

Harry chuckled hollowly. "Is it for revenge, or to save this world?" As everyone else looked at him, he said, looking at Cloud's eyes, "I think it's more for revenge. I know that look in your eyes, and yours too, Barrett. I saw them every day in the mirror for so long. I had everything I valued taken from me, and when I tried to take revenge, they took even more from me, save for my life."

"What would you know, fool?" Barrett retorted. His response was really just trying to match Harry, in a game of masculine one-upmanship, but he screwed up, and he knew it, when he saw Harry glare.

"More than you," Harry said coldly, standing, and striding out of the house. After a moment, Luna and Aerith followed.

Cloud rolled his eyes. "Way to go, Barrett."

"Hey, I fucked up, Cloud, okay?" Barrett retorted. "But he's come outta nowhere with that Jenova girl Luna. You can't tell me not to be suspicious. You are too."

"And so am I," Tifa said. "But Luna pointed out some things that she could have kept secret, and used them to hurt the party. What Vincent told you, Cloud, Luna figured out from the Jenova cells she had taken from you. If she was in league with Sephiroth, or else acting as an enemy, then she probably would have said it later, in order to divide the party. I find it hard to trust her wholly, but she has been upfront with us about other things. Like about her being a Jenova creature. Keep an eye on her and Harry, sure, but we have to remember the true enemies are Sephiroth and Shinra."

Vincent nodded. "We'll head to the Great Glacier tomorrow. Let's hope we can avoid killing each other before then."

* * *

Harry strode out, huffing angrily. He had been told of Barrett's past by Aerith on the trip to Icicle Inn, and frankly, Barrett probably had as much a claim to revenge as he did. But unlike Harry, whose vengeance was targeted (albeit vicious and devastating), Barrett bombed Mako Reactors, apparently causing unnecessary deaths.

Of course, he also didn't like what he saw in Barrett's face. That self-righteous nature that he saw in the mirror in his own face. The conviction that what he did was right. Thanks to Dumbledore's decisions and Voldemort hounding him and the mercurial opinions of Magical Britain, Harry's psyche was a mess. The deaths of virtually everyone he had cared about merely compounded the matter.

He leaned up against the house, and wasn't surprised to see Luna or Aerith following him. "Harry…" Luna began.

Harry held up his hand. "Save it. I need to think. Only a couple of days in a new world, fresh out of Azkaban. I haven't had time to think."

"You're hurt," Aerith said. "You're hurting. You lashed out at Barrett out of pain, didn't you?"

"Great deduction," Harry scoffed, albeit half-heartedly. Out of all of AVALANCHE, he liked Aerith the best. And not just because she was the first he had met. "I spent almost three years in Azkaban. I spent a decade in a cupboard for a bedroom, and as a slave to my supposedly loving relatives, at the whim of an old fool who thought he knew what he was doing. I spent over half of my life in one prison or another. I'm twenty-one years old. I feel like I'm seventy-one. Let's just say that I've got issues. Especially with people disbelieving me. Had enough of that when I was fifteen."

"We don't disbelieve you," Aerith said. "Well, I don't," she added.

Harry sighed. "Well, if you do believe me, just remember. Even though I have what Hermione called a 'saving people thing', the truth is, people around me tend to die. Luna's the exception, not the rule."

"You saved me from Sephiroth," Aerith said quietly.

"I saved Ginny from a Basilisk. She still died. Cutting Curse to the throat. Bled out within seconds." Harry emitted a bitter chuckle. "Do you know why I'm even bothering sticking around with you and your merry little troupe?"

"Your saving people thing?" Aerith asked.

"Got it in one. There's a minuscule ember of decency that refuses to go out. I'm done with Magical Britain, but starting anew on another world…" He frowned when he saw someone approaching them, flanked by a squad of soldiers. Said someone was a young woman in a blue suit, with blonde hair. When Aerith saw her, she frowned as well. "Someone you know?" Harry asked.

"Elena, of the Turks. Shinra's espionage and assassination wing. Vincent used to be part of them. And they want me because I'm a Cetra. And they're trying to stop us from following Sephiroth," Aerith explained.

Harry nodded, before looking at Elena. "Whatever it is you're selling, we're not buying."

This wrong-footed Elena, who looked at Aerith. "Where are the others?"

"That's an interesting metaphysical question," Aerith replied with a cheeky grin.

Luna grinned herself as Elena and the Shinra troops looked befuddled, though they raised their guns. "I _like_ you."

"Well, we've got disarming personalities as well," Harry said. "Case in point… _Expelliarmus!_ "

The Shinra troopers' guns all went flying at his gesture, and Harry glared at Elena. "I'm in a bad mood. Please don't make it worse."

"You must be the other Cetra we were told about," Elena said, obviously trying to conceal her shock at what happened, and failing.

"Dammit, Cait Sith," Aerith murmured. Louder, she said, "Neither of us are coming with you. We're heading to stop Sephiroth from using Meteor. Even Shinra would want Sephiroth stopped."

"My orders are to intercept AVALANCHE and secure the Cetra," Elena said.

"Well, now that you're here, I don't feel very secure," Harry snarked. " _Stupefy!_ " Red bolts spat from his hands (and Luna's, once she realised what was going on), and knocked the Shinra troopers down, unconscious. "Now I am. Don't worry, they're fine. They're just out cold," he said to Elena, who was staring at him. "Seriously, Shinra wants a Cetra, if they can do that? Anyway, you've intercepted AVALANCHE. You've got the Cetra. Congrats. Frankly, Elena, you're out of your depth."

After a moment, Elena reached for a mobile phone, and activated it. "Reno? It's me, Elena. I've tried to intercept AVALANCHE and the two Cetra, but my men are all down. No, it was all one guy. Yeah, one of the new Cetra, well, with the one who Cait Sith says is another Jenova creature. No, I think he was trying to be nice. For a given value, anyway." She sighed. "Okay, thanks. This is a balls-up. Any luck with the nutjob? Huh. Hojo's more trouble than he's worth, I wish Rude found him dead than alive."

Harry asked, "Excuse me, is that your boss?"

"One of them," Elena replied.

"D'you mind if I have a word? _Accio_ phone!" The phone was snatched from her hand (eliciting a squawk of annoyance from Elena), and came to his own. "Thanks," he said to the livid Elena. Into the phone, he said, "Hello?"

" _Who's this, then?_ " drawled a nasal voice.

"I'm Harry Potter, mildly annoyed. Is this Reno?"

" _Speaking. You're the other Cetra Cait Sith told us about. Well, besides the crazy Jenova hybrid. So, what d'you wanna talk about?_ "

"Just two things. One, in case Cait Sith hasn't told you, we've activated Holy as a countermeasure against Sephiroth and Meteor. Two, you want a Cetra. Well, I've just disarmed and knocked out a group of your troopers. Aerith's no slouch in combat, but she is under my protection, and Luna's. I am only a few days fresh out of prison, Reno, and I've got a few issues to work out. The next lot of poor bastards may not be so lucky. I want to work out my anger on Sephiroth. Please don't get in the way."

Reno laughed. " _Listen to the ego on you. I mean, who the hell d'you think you are?_ "

Harry's eyes hardened. "I'm Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. The man who vanquished Voldemort. I've killed more people personally than you ever would, Reno, all of whom made my shitlist. Don't make my shitlist, or your life expectancy will go from 'senile pensioner with a bus card' to 'missing your next birthday', which would incidentally be tomorrow(1)." He then tossed the phone back to Elena. "Thanks."

Elena, nervously, nodded. But as she made to walk away, talking on the phone, she slipped on a patch of ice. And given that much of Icicle Inn was on a slope, leading to a ski-course of sorts, she began sliding down the mountain with an undignified shriek.

Now, Harry would, later, question his decision to try and help. Even by his 'saving people thing' standards, this was stupid. He could have used a Summoning Charm. And she was the enemy after all.

Instead, he ran for her, Aerith and Luna following, only to slip and fall himself. Soon, the four of them were sliding at incredible speed down the mountain, screaming all the while (Luna apparently screaming in excitement rather than fear). The slope seemed to go on forever, until finally, they were flying through the air.

Harry screamed in unison with the three women with him, before the white ground rushed up at him, and everything went dark…

 **CHAPTER 5 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **And here we go, the first episode of** ** _The New Cetra Heritage: Imago_** **finished. Hope you enjoyed it, despite the repeats of some parts of the story. I hope it's the new elements rather than the old that you enjoy.**

 **1\. This joke was taken from** ** _Darths and Droids_** **, specifically Episode 727, where, upon Luke learning he is a Jedi, R2D2 responds in a similar fashion to how Harry threatens Reno. And C3PO immediately quips 'Happy Birthday!'.** ** _Darths and Droids_** **is an extremely funny webcomic, you should go check it out.**

 **CHAPTER 5 SOUNDTRACK:**

 **Gast's Testament** **:** ** _Aerith's Theme_** **(FTG). This is a sad moment for Aerith, watching her father die on tape, so I thought this is where it should be finally used.**

 **Painful Truths** **:** ** _Who…Am I?_** **(FTG). This is involved with many of Cloud's mental problems, and so works here.**

 **Sliding Down The Slope** **:** ** _Crazy Motorcycle Chase_** **(FTG).**


	16. The New Cetra Heritage: Imago Chapter 6

_**THE NEW CETRA HERITAGE: IMAGO**_

 **EPISODE 2:**

 **COLD LANDS AND COLDER HEARTS**

 _I can't see where you're coming from,_

 _But I know just what you're running from,_

 _And what matters ain't who's the baddest but_

 _The ones who stop you from falling from your ladder_.

-Short Change Heroes, _by The Heavy_

 **CHAPTER 6:**

 **THE GREAT GLACIER**

 _I am curled up alone in my prison. It's so dark in here, so very, very dark. I am alone. I will always be alone._

 _I remember screams. A green light. Pain. A pain that sears at my soul. Faces of all kinds. Cold night. And now, this. This eternity of misery._

 _I have been here for a very long time. Almost an eternity in the cold and the dark. I don't even know my name any more._

 _Suddenly, the prison shakes. Everything around me begins to heat up. I begin screaming, but there is nobody to hear. And then, suddenly, oblivion._

 _But not for long._

 _I emerge from my prison, a womb of rock and stone. I find myself assuming a strange shape, but one suited to my grandeur. But something is wrong with the air. The Lifestream here, as it curls around the wound created by my arrival…it is so alien…so different._

 _No, it's not fair! I_ saved _them! I undertook the Last Sanction, I unleashed the Gatherer and his Herald to harvest the survivors, make them become one with me so that we may find another world to continue…a shining future, where there had been none at all. And I arrived here, where there's already life(_ _1)_ _?_

 _I couldn't do it again. Even if I was physically able to make the long trek across the dark, I couldn't do it again. My sanity was hanging by threads. In truth, it had already snapped._

 _I had made hard decisions before. I will again. As the native people approach, I know what I must do. In life, there is always the consumed and the consumer. The food and the eater._

 _The prey, and the predator._

 _First, I am subtle, entrancing them with illusions, before infecting them with my cells. Then, when they begin to fight back, I turn them and animals into my warriors. They had no right to resist! I had earned the right to survive! I must survive! Or else it meant nothing!_

 _Battles waged. Battles won. Battles lost. The Cetra manage to stop me, my main mass, even when so many of my cells are scattered across the world in the form of monsters. They named me Jeh-Nohva, Calamity from the Skies. And their punishment was to be the cruellest of them all._

 _They wanted to entomb me, once more, in a prison of stone._

 _I screamed and struggled, as, without remorse, they sealed me into the rock. And in the darkness, time and isolation erodes at my sanity and memories until all that's left is I, and the desire to consume._

 _Then, after what felt like an eternity, the light of day once more. I exchanged one prison for another, rock and stone for glass and drugged oxygenated liquid. They take parts of me piecemeal, while I stare at them. Eventually, I learn the language of a new world, separated from that of the Cetra not by distance but by time. Of scientists, of electricity, of Shinra. I learn the names of my tormentors: Hojo, Gast, Lucrezia…_

 _And then, they give me new children. Genesis, Angeal…Sephiroth…_

 _I feel Nibelheim burn from a distance, and find it good. I meet my son, properly, for the first time. But he believes me to be an Ancient, a Cetra. I am so much more than they are._

 _I watch him being attacked by a boy with spiky blond hair. I feel the strange sensation of having my head removed by Sephiroth. During another confrontation with the boy, we fall into the depths of the Mako Reactor…_

 _…And there, I try to take control. Only to find that, in his madness, Sephiroth has a strength far beyond anything I have encountered. And I am so much less than I once was…_

 _…Except that's not quite who I am, am I?_

 _Oh, Mother…what did they do to you?_

* * *

 _I grew up in a cage, while scientists poked and prodded at me. I've…made my peace with that. But I never forget. I remember the perpetual leer on Hojo's face. He enjoyed having power over me and my mother. I remember him occasionally drugging my mother, and taking her away. I'm not sure what he did, but I have my suspicions(_ _2)_ _._

 _My mother…that was the worst thing about that whole ordeal. Not the pain of the experiments and endless sample-taking. I could see her dying in her eyes, as the life and vitality drained out of them. Only a small ember remained by the time we finally escaped, her desperate desire to protect me finally fuelling a Limit Break that destroyed all monitors and security devices within the Shinra labs. She beat back the troopers sent to stop our escape with Limit Break after Limit Break, even though she was forcing these Limit Breaks to occur. And to do so ruined the body._

 _We got to a train, and took it down. It was at the terminus at Sector Seven that my mother began to succumb, blood trickling from every orifice. I knew she was dying, and while she told me that she was returning to the Planet, I didn't want her to die!_

 _I lost a mother that day. And while I gained a new one…it was still perhaps the worst day of my life._

* * *

 _I didn't learn my name until I went to school. I was called Freak or Boy. It was only then that I was told my name was Harry Potter._

 _I lived in a cupboard under the stairs. They told me my parents were worthless, useless, and so was I. I had to earn my keep. They made me work like a servant. No, a_ _ **slave**_ _. A servant gets paid._

 _They kept me oppressed. They continually told me there was no such thing as magic, exploding at me if I dared to even hint at contradicting them._

 _I know the truth now. They were liars. Vicious, petty liars. I was a hero, and so were my parents. But…I was a hero because I lived when my parents didn't. I was a hero to a world that left me in the worst situation. They may have been my relatives, but they were also selfish, evil, and petty. So what does that say about those who left me there?_

 _Well, given that I was thrown into Hell on Earth, all for cleaning up the trash of their world, not much. Made into a weapon, made to watch my friends die because of bad decisions, and made to rot away._

* * *

Harry woke with a pained groan, only to find himself cold, and covered in snow. He ached all over, though thankfully, he didn't seem to have any broken bones. Just bruises and a cut or two. As he got to his feet, he realised he wasn't alone. Aerith was sprawled in the snow not far from him, while that Turk woman, Elena, was a little further away.

But where was Luna?

He soon got his answer when, out of the snowstorm around them, Luna flew in, on a pair of white wings. He stared, as she came in to land gracefully, like an angel. "Luna…since when did you have wings?" Harry asked, understandably perturbed.

"Since my Reunion," Luna said as her wings faded. "I've been scouting ahead. There's some shelter not far from here we can use. I did so quickly, I didn't want you all to succumb to the cold."

Harry nodded, before rousing Aerith, while Luna roused Elena. Elena needed little persuading to join them at the shelter with little fuss. She was outnumbered three to one, and she was up against a Jenova hybrid as well.

Once inside the small cave, Elena hugged herself, shivering, and swearing softly to herself. "Why did you try to help me?" she asked.

"I have a 'saving people thing', as one of my old friends put it," Harry said, his face falling at the memory of Hermione, who had said that. Dead on the grounds of Hogwarts. "Turns me into a chivalrous idiot. Anyway, you're out of your depth. I killed many people, but out of revenge. Not out of callousness. I only stunned those idiot soldiers you had with you too. Of course, if they killed anyone I cared about…"

"You go postal?" Elena asked.

"Oh, even worse." Harry chuckled mirthlessly. "Anyway, why the hell does Shinra want a Cetra?"

"They want the Promised Land," Aerith said. "Shinra makes its money by converting the very lifeforce of the Planet, the Lifestream, into electricity. The problem is, they are draining the very life out of the Planet, and trust me, the Planet is more than a little annoyed at that. The Promised Land is, supposedly, a land rich with Mako Energy, the physical manifestation of the Lifestream. But Shinra have got it wrong. They think it's a physical place. In truth, the Ancients viewed the Promised Land as their reward for helping cultivate the Lifestream…to join with it when their time has come."

Elena stared at Aerith. "You're lying," she said in a quietly accusatory tone.

"Or maybe you're just a corporate drone who has been indoctrinated by Shinra's bullshit," Harry remarked.

"Like hell I am! AVALANCHE are terrorists! They bombed the Mako Reactors, killed dozens of people!" Elena snapped.

"And how many more died when Reno triggered the collapse of the Sector 7 Plate?" Aerith asked, quietly, but with a hidden edge in her tone.

Elena couldn't make a comeback to that. Luna then gently patted the young Turk's hand. "Don't worry. Your goals and ours should coincide, anyway. I mean, don't you guys want to stop Sephiroth too?"

"If he succeeds in his quest, it's Game Over," Harry said. "I'd think that Shinra would put a premium on self-preservation at the very least."

Elena looked out of the cave, before scowling. "That storm's not letting up for a while. Fine, then. Just tell me what you know…"

* * *

Elena scoffed as Harry, Luna, and Aerith finished their story. "You know, after hearing this guy's story," Elena indicated Harry, "I think your story about the Promised Land is a lot more plausible. Another world?"

Suddenly, the two red Materia on Luna's wrist bangle flared (Luna having presumably taken one of them from Harry after their battle with Jenova), and a pair of figures emerged. "I know it is true because I spent centuries there," Nicholas Flamel said.

"Who the hell are you?" Elena demanded.

"We were Summon beings from this world. Surely you recognise the Materia that hold our essence?" Flamel asked, indicating Luna's bangle. "On this world, I was known as Ixion."

"And I was Valefor," Perenelle Flamel added.

"Ixion and Valefor…two of the legendary Summons, thought to be lost," Elena murmured, almost in awe.

Nicholas Flamel nodded. "We left this world during the Cetra Exodus to the world where Harry and Luna were born. Some centuries ago, we adopted, with permission, the identities of our former masters, Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel, noted alchemists who were rumoured to have developed the Philosopher's Stone, an alchemic catalyst thought to turn base metals into gold, and create the Elixir of Life, the source of immortality."

"We were thought to be immortal because of the Stone, and we pretended that our Materia were our Stones," Perenelle added.

"During Harry's first year at Hogwarts, I agreed to a plan by Albus Dumbledore to try and lure Voldemort, the evil wizard targeting Harry, out of hiding. I also wished to withdraw from wizarding society, and fake our deaths. Dumbledore announced that we would be stopping taking the Elixir of Life, and that we had destroyed the Philosopher's Stone to avoid it falling into the wrong hands. But we had made other arrangements. We disappeared quietly into society, being able to change our forms to some extent. However, when news came of the disastrous final battle, we wondered whether we should come out of hiding. We began investigating discreetly. A few years after your imprisonment, Harry, we came across what seemed to be coalescing Jenova cells. We were wary, but when Luna showed her commitment to saving your life, we decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. Luna felt like Jenova, but with none of the malice."

"So we worked together to break you out," Luna said cheerfully. "I'm sorry I took so long, but my Reunion took a long time. The magic thrown about during the final battle hindered my ability to regenerate."

"At least you came back for me," Harry muttered. "Nobody else did if they were still alive. They thought not giving me the Kiss was the best bit of gratitude for saving their worthless arses they could show. Malfoy even showed up to gloat. I threw my toilet bucket at him, and told him he was full of shit, adding some more to him wouldn't make much of a difference. He took exception to that, but it was worth the bruised ribs. He can't kick to save his life, otherwise my ribs'd be broken. That's the gratitude I get for saving his arse and that of his mother, though she at least seemed to be sorry about me being in Azkaban."

"Draco Malfoy covered in urine and crap?" Luna laughed. "I will pay you for you to show me that memory. I can make a Pensieve later."

Elena looked at Luna, and then Harry, and then at the Flamels, before putting her head in her hands. "Either your insanity is infectious, or else I hit my head harder than I thought landing after that impromptu bit of snow-boarding. Two Summon beings who masqueraded as wizards on another world, another one who's a fucking Jenova creature with a tenuous grasp on reality, and one who is an escaped fugitive, and half-crazy."

Aerith, taking pity on the young Turk, asked, "Is Tseng all right?"

Elena scowled. "No thanks to you. He's in a coma. They're not sure if he'll ever wake up."

"He was attacked by Sephiroth, he told us," Aerith said.

"So you say, but I don't believe the associate of known terrorists."

"This coming from the woman who willingly joined an organisation dedicated to assassination and murder," Aerith replied acidly. "I only asked about Tseng because he was the closest thing I had to a friend at Shinra. Well, that and Zack."

"Zack? I've heard of him. Some former SOLDIER turned traitor. Tseng apparently tried to make sure your letters reached him, but the army gunned him down," Elena remarked.

"I know he's dead. Luna told me." Aerith looked over at Elena. "You…liked him, didn't you?"

"You could say that, though I couldn't work up the courage to talk to him about it. Besides, I'm sure Shinra has some clause or other against office relationships," Elena said with a mirthless chuckle. After a moment, Elena asked Aerith, "Why join up with AVALANCHE, though? I mean, avoiding Shinra's one thing. I sort of understand that. But joining up with terrorists? You DO know what AVALANCHE nearly did even before Barrett took over? Hell, if anything, he's tame by comparison. And I don't say that lightly."

Aerith gave Elena a look. "AVALANCHE didn't take my mother from me. AVALANCHE didn't experiment on me. When I first met Cloud, he helped me up and bought one of my flowers. When we arrived at Sector 7 and found out that Shinra was about to destroy the pillar, Tifa and Cloud's first thoughts were to tell the people to evacuate, and had me get Barrett's daughter out of there. I can't speak as much for Barrett or for the others with him, but Cloud and Tifa are good people. And I know Tifa actually gave a damn about the people who died in the explosions AVALANCHE caused. But if the Planet dies because of Shinra's predations, what then? Even you should be worried: you could be out of a job if it happens in your lifetime."

In the uncomfortable silence that followed, Luna looked out of the cave. "The storm's passing," she remarked. "Literally, anyway. Come on." And with that, the cheerful Jenova hybrid left, the Flamels vanishing into her Materia, though not without Luna offering a parting shot. "Or do you want to stay with the wrackspurt infestation?"

Harry sighed, before getting up to follow, Aerith and Elena doing so too. But Luna was right. Even if the storm had passed literally, there was still a metaphorical one on the horizon…

 **CHAPTER 6 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Most of this chapter was taken from either Chapter 7 of** ** _Harry Potter and the Cetra Heritage_** **, or else Chapter 21, with some alterations. Luna is having dreams of Jenova's rather tragic past, as speculated by me in that work.**

 **Now, I've made the decision that, instead of posting in five-chapter episodes, this time, I will post in one chapter increments. Otherwise, I may never get this done. As it is, I'm lucky to have gotten this one out for my first anniversary update. For this update, however, fans of** ** _Final Fantasy VII_** **will get a treat, with an update for** ** _Holiday_** **(the fourth story and second interquel for the Cetra Heritage Saga) as well as a new crossover idea that has caught my eye…**

 **Review-answering time!** **Akuma-Heika** **: Harry's being snarky and bitter. Given what Dumbledore does in canon, he's somewhat justified. And Vincent is implied not to be locked into his coffin, that his seclusion is self-imposed.**

 **Reishin Amara** **: This isn't going to be a harem fic. So wipe the drool away.**

 **The following annotations were copied and pasted (with minor editing) from** ** _Harry Potter and the Cetra Heritage_** **…**

 **1\. One wonders, if Omega succeeded in transplanting the Lifestream onto another world, what would happen to the life already there? I'd assume there'd be safeguards, but still…**

 **2\. I wouldn't put it past Hojo to attempt to rape Ifalna, partly because he's a psychopath who delights in causing misery to others, and partly because he probably wants another Cetra test subject to work on. This is a guy who subjected Lucrezia and their unborn child to infection with Jenova cells. I left the wording somewhat ambiguous, though, so I'll let you make up your mind.**

 **CHAPTER 6 SOUNDTRACK:**

 **Over Flashback Falls Without a Barrel** **:** ** _Who Am I?_** **(FTG)**

 **The Great Glacier** **:** ** _Buried in Snow_** **(FTG). What else am I going to use but the theme from the actual game?**


	17. Lance and Devil Chapter 1

_**This story is actually a rather unusual one. Rather than a story that I am currently writing to see if it works out, this one is an old one that I intended to get to go somewhere. One day, I may revisit it.**_

 _ **Like**_ **Sympathy for the Devil** _ **and**_ **Fall to Zenith** _ **,**_ **Lance and Devil** _ **was a crossover with**_ **Highsch** **ool DxD** _ **. In hindsight, I should have tried to develop this one more than**_ **Sympathy for the Devil** _ **, as it had a more interesting concept. But my initial attempt at this story went nowhere fast. I am only posting the first chapter of this story, as the second chapter took it in a direction where I didn't want it to go in hindsight, and so, I will eventually use this initial chapter as the basis of a new story with a new direction. With**_ **Fall to Zenith** _ **, I've done Harry Potter in the**_ **Highschool DxD** _ **verse more than the reverse. Here, the reverse may happen.**_

* * *

 _ **LANCE AND DEVIL**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **REVELATIONS**

Harry Potter woke up reluctantly. Not just reluctantly, but with a fog over his most recent memories, along with his mind. Indeed, the only thing that really got him out of his state of insensibility was a distinctively welcome smell, that of hot chocolate. When he finally opened his eyes, he found a mug filled with hot chocolate on a bedside table next to him. He reached over, and took it, and began drinking it. Only now did he realise, as he began drinking, that he wasn't where he should be. He wasn't at 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. In fact, his last memory was in an alley not far from the Dursleys' house.

Recollection came back to him, triggered by the taste of the hot chocolate. As it slid down his throat, memory slid back into place. Of being all but ignored by his friends during the summer. Of his increasing anger. Of Dudley and his gang. Of the Dementors in the alleyway…

DEMENTORS!

That realisation sent a thrill of fear through Harry's body. They had come for him, and then…and then…

Why couldn't he remember what happened? Had the Dementors done something to him?

He looked around the room. It was dimly lit, very little detail visible. It was also quite spartan in terms of décor and furnishing. A bed, a bedside table, and a lamp. Oh, and a chair.

The door opened, and four people entered. He recognised three of them rather swiftly. Hermione, and her parents. However, the fourth person, a handsome man in his thirties with dark hair (albeit with a blonde fringe) and a short beard was not someone he recognised. He was dressed in what seemed like a kimono or something like that. He didn't like the way the man was peering at him, though the smile seemed friendly enough. There was an air to the man that wasn't dissimilar to his godfather. "So, you're awake, Harry. That's good. We got worried there for a moment."

Harry blinked at him, before demanding, "Who the hell are you? And what's Hermione doing here?"

"Well, it might be best if I answer those questions in reverse order. Hermione is here because her parents work for me. Dan and Emma here have been good friends of mine for some years. Actually, to tell the truth, I've wanted to meet you for some time, really, but it was better to keep my distance until things went south and I could justify an intervention. I had to retrieve Hermione from where old Dumbledore had her. Believe me, getting around a Fidelius Charm is a real bitch, even for someone like me. By the way, she didn't want to keep you in the dark. The old goat just felt it best to have you alone to mourn Cedric Diggory. Of course, Dumbledore miscalculated. And Hermione's still got to get over her authority worship. Don't worry, she can be trusted."

"Can she?" Harry asked acidly, before his eyes narrowed. "Can you?"

"Ooh, good question. Short answer, you don't know whether to trust me, and you probably won't once I tell you who I am. But Hermione is one of your oldest friends. You can trust her more than you can trust me. Then again, I'm sure you can trust me more than you can trust your Ministry of Magic." He pulled a newspaper from his kimono, and put it onto Harry's lap.

Harry scowled when he saw the headline, declaring him to be an attention-seeking liar, and Dumbledore to be senile, at best, and that Voldemort hadn't returned. As Harry's scowl deepened, his eyes scanning over the article, the man said, "That imbecile Fudge has turned Magical Britain against you. He didn't need much prompting from Lucius Malfoy, either. I'm surprised they haven't accused you of murdering Cedric yourself. Now, before you get too worked-up, drink the rest of your hot chocolate. Those Dementors really did a number on you."

Harry did so, sullenly. As he finished the hot chocolate, Hermione came forward. "I actually have a confession to make, Harry."

Harry looked at her, his eyes hard and cold, but he motioned for her to continue.

"…I'm not actually a Muggleborn. I'm technically a Pureblood witch."

Harry was lucky he had finished the hot chocolate by that point, or else he would have either choked on it, or else spat it out in sheer shock. "What?!"

"It's true, albeit on a technicality," Dan Granger said. "My wife and I are magical. But we're not actually considered to be so. We'd be in more danger if our true status was exposed than if we were Muggles."

"What the hell do you mean?!" Harry demanded.

"Calm down, Harry," the man in the kimono said. And although Harry nearly yelled at him, something about his voice and expression actually caused Harry to still his tongue. After a moment, the man continued. "Not all children who have magical blood in them go to Hogwarts. Some are recruited by the Church. Both Anglican and Catholic. It has been a longstanding dogma that to stop rogue magicals, one should use magicals. The Church trains them as a form of special forces unit, known as the Exorcists. You ever read _Hellsing?_ " Harry nodded, having read one of Dudley's tattered copies. "Think somewhere between the Hellsing Organisation and Section XIII Iscariot, and you'll probably get an idea of what the Exorcists do. They're an elite group of fighters for the Church, many of them magical. Dan and Emma here were two Exorcists. Given that they have been excommunicated, they are known, rather disparagingly, as Stray Exorcists."

Harry looked at them, then at the man, before asking, perhaps somewhat stupidly (it had been a trying day, though, so he could be excused), "Why would they be treated worse than Muggles?"

The man sighed. "Exorcists have been a favourite weapon of the Church in the past against wizards and witches. Even after the Statute of Secrecy was established, the Church sent Exorcists after wizards and witches. Only a few decades later did the Church relent, and even then, they sometimes send them as assassins against other wizards and witches. But the thing is, Exorcists are considered traitors of the worst kind to the Wizarding World, and boogymen of the highest order to magical children. Dan and Emma here are not monsters, you must understand: the few wizards they have targeted were either Death Eaters or their associates. Indeed, while Dan retrieved you from Little Whinging, Emma found the person who had sent the Dementors after you, as I had received word from one of my contacts about someone in the Ministry targeting you. Said person is in another room in my little safehouse."

Harry didn't know how to take this. That Hermione had lied about her heritage, that her parents were magical assassins for the Church, and that someone had sent Dementors after him. He decided to just keep carrying on as much as he could. "And who are you? You haven't told me your name."

"Ah, yes, sorry. I've been rude, haven't I? The name's Azazel. I'm the leader of an organisation known as the Grigori. Not that that's a name that'd mean much to you, unless you've studied more theology than I thought. This is going to be one of the more impossible things you're going to hear today." Azazel stood, and suddenly, six pairs of pitch-black wings spread from his back. "Believe it or not, Harry Potter, I'm a Fallen Angel. The leader of the Fallen Angels, to be precise."

Harry looked at him, a little bemused. He wondered whether he should be more shocked or sceptical than he was feeling. Instead, he felt a sort of resignation. Considering he saw Voldemort come back from the dead, along with so many other things, what was this revelation but another added to the pile? Eventually, all he said was, "Huh."

"I think he broke," Emma Granger remarked with a sigh. "Between Dementors and revelations, I'm not surprised."

Eventually, Harry found something to latch onto, something relatively sane. "Who sent the Dementors after me? Was it Malfoy?"

"Believe it or not, no. If Malfoy did such a thing, Voldemort would have his hide for killing you before he could do so. No, it was actually someone you've probably never heard of. Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic. And in case you're wondering, no, Fudge didn't tell her to do so. He wants to discredit you, but not have you dead. Whereas Umbridge wants you dead or discredited, because you're a threat to the stability of Magical Britain, as she sees it. Frankly, the Batrachian Bitch won't be mourned by anyone." Azazel, who had retracted his wings, began pacing. "Of course, her sending a pair of Dementors to attack you has had unforeseen consequences. One of which is the reason you're here, and not back at your relatives' house. The thing is, you tried to use a Patronus on the Dementors. Sadly, you were very nearly overcome, and couldn't use it. I guess you could say what happened next was a miracle of sorts."

"What, from God?" Harry scoffed.

"Well, He can't exactly do much, being dead and all," Azazel said. Harry wasn't sure what he was more surprised by: Azazel saying God was dead, or that the Grangers were showing little surprise to such a proclamation. Some dismay, yes, but not actual surprise.

"God's dead, huh?" Harry asked. On seeing Azazel nod, Harry muttered, "Figures."

"Oh, don't get me wrong, He was very big on the whole 'free will' thing, so blaming him for the Dursleys and Voldemort if He was alive isn't the way to go. He died centuries ago, at the end of a great war, but that's a tale for a later time. Anyway, miracles can happen, even if God is dead. I mean, the world's still turning even without Him." Azazel eventually sat back down on the chair, and steepled his fingers. He was all-business now. "Well, to explain how you beat the Dementors without a Patronus spell, I have to give you a little primer on one particular facet of our world. These are artifacts known as Sacred Gears. They're innate to specific people, born with them. They grant special powers. Most of them are weapons, but there are many that have other abilities. For example, there's a young nun in Italy called Asia Argento who has a Sacred Gear known as Twilight Healing, capable of healing any she wishes."

"You think I have one of these Sacred Gear things?" Harry asked.

"Hey, you catch on quick. But it's a yes and no sort of answer. Frankly, I haven't really come across anything like this before in my life. I mean, Sacred Gears are both blessings and curses. They're powerful resources to those who claim them. Those who possess Sacred Gears have the power to shape the world." Azazel looked Harry in the eye. "Of course, they're so hotly contested, defending them can lead to the ruin of those who seek to claim them or defend them. And with the death of every Sacred Gear user, the Sacred Gear fades away, until it comes back into being in another person. But the question I need to ask here, Harry Potter, is that what if a Sacred Gear is not granted to another person…but IS that person(1)?"

Harry stared at him. "…What?"

"What I'm trying to say here, Harry, is that you're not a bearer of a Sacred Gear. You ARE one."

Before darkness swallowed him up once more, Harry's only thought was, _Oh_.

* * *

Hermione watched as her oldest friend, upon digesting what Azazel had told him, flopped back onto the bed in a dead faint. Understandable, considering what he had just been told. She went over to Harry, and checked him.

"He'll be fine," Azazel said. "Anyway, we'll have to tell him some of the things the old goat kept from him. Amongst other things."

Hermione scowled slightly. As much as he had a point about Dumbledore, her respect for the Headmaster of Hogwarts died hard. Then again, this man had a ridiculous amount of power. Azazel made most wizards and witches, if not all, seem like insects by comparison.

Even so, it seemed that Harry had more power than she had ever thought. Than anyone had thought. And if Azazel was right, then Harry would need all the friends he could get…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **And here you have it. The beginning of a new crossover. Unlike the old one, Dumbledore won't be bashed, or rather, he won't be made a villain. Rather, he will be more or less made irrelevant. Some elements from** ** _Fall to Zenith_** **will be carried over, like the destruction of the Horcruxes, albeit in a somewhat different manner. I'm also taking a leaf from** ** _Journey of the Sorcerer_** **, and thus** ** _Soul Eater_** **. I mean, Sacred Gears seem to be merely innate to a person. What if they were the person?**

 **I hope you liked me making the Grangers Stray Exorcists. They're not a villainous kind of Stray Exorcist, like Freed, but rather, more like they left the Church on a matter of principle.**

 **As with** ** _Fall to Zenith_** **, this basically shifts canon forward by a decade. So this chapter takes place in 2005, rather than 1995 (as the canon version of** ** _The Order of the Phoenix_** **did).**

 **1\. This 'speech' is a modified form of Episode 81 of** ** _8-Bit Theater_** **, namely the discussion of Black Mage's origins. This was another slight inspiration for this story.**


	18. Light the Blue Touch Paper Chapter 1

**One crossover with Harry Potter that I've been meaning to do for some time was _Fate/Stay Night_ , something you can thank or blame (depending) Lupine Horror and sakurademonalchemist for. I recently obtained the first anime series, and thought now was the time to start, despite not actually having watched it yet.**

 **Another impetus was the challenge issued by Gabriel Herrol, who asked writers to come up with a story where Harry is raised by Caster/Medea. I thought the concept intriguing, but ultimately decided I'd had enough of writing pre-Hogwarts/First Year stories. My next impulse was to take a leaf out of the Master of Death Harry stories I wrote, especially my rather cracky _Final Fantasy XII_ crossover _Nitimur in Vetitium_ , and their inspiration the _Mass Effect_ crossover _Getting Too Old For This_ by ManMadeofLasers. I also was intrigued by the opening conceit of another Harry Potter/ _Fate/Stay Night_ crossover, _Second Chance of They Who Have Been Betrayed_ by Soaring Midnight Raven.**

 **That being said, having written one chapter and being partway through another, I find myself getting bored with the story already. One day, I WILL write a Harry Potter/ _Fate Stay Night_ crossover, or at least a _Fate/Stay Night_ fanfic. It may even be this one. Who knows? But for the moment, this taster is all you're getting.**

 **Incidentally, in case you're wondering about the title, the title is derived from the warning that used to be on fireworks in Britain: _Light the blue touch paper and retire_ (meaning retreat) _immediately_.**

 **EDIT (October 15 2016): I have done a new fic with the title of _Light the Blue Touch Paper and Run Like Hell_. While the emphasis is on Medea-shipping, it is not a crossover with Harry Potter any more, nor is it set during _Fate/Stay Night_. Instead, it is set during _Fate/Zero_ , is a crossover with Thor...and ships Medea with Loki.**

* * *

 _ **LIGHT THE BLUE TOUCH PAPER AND RUN LIKE HELL (ORIGINAL)  
**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **BROKEN**

To say a place was Hell on Earth was a cliché so often used, people often forgot what it meant. Appellations of this kind were appended to places ranging from the harshest deserts to the coldest tundra. Prisons were popularly given this sort of name. But one that was perhaps one of the closest to emulating Hell on Earth was Azkaban.

To most people, the word Azkaban would mean little. But to the magical community of the United Kingdom, it was a name spoken of in awe, fear, and dread. A pimple of an island in the frigid seas off Britain's coast, isolated and cold. There were worse prisons in the world of magic (Nurmengard, the legendary prison of Grindlewald, for example), and even some in the mundane world, but Azkaban was close to the top.

Even before it became a prison for Magical Britain, it had been the lair of one of the darkest of wizards, Ekrizdis. His name isn't known to many modern wizards, but in his time, he was feared, using Azkaban as a fortress to lure Muggle sailors to the concealed island to torture and experiment on. Only with his death did the charms concealing the island fall, and the Ministry investigated. To this day, it's not known exactly what happened.

The thing that made Azkaban truly awful was not the cold or the isolation, or its dark and obscure history. It was the guards. Dementors, hideous wraith-like beings who were said to grow from dark and decaying places, creatures who existed to suck good feelings from anyone near their influence. The Ministry of Magic trusted them enough to remain as guards, but truth be told, the Dementors had no loyalties, save to themselves. They stayed as guards and wardens of Azkaban only because it meant they could feed off the feelings of prisoners.

And, occasionally, feed off their souls. For the Wizarding World, the ultimate penalty was the Dementor's Kiss, whereby the Dementor would consume the soul of the malcontent. The condemned would still be alive, but they would be in a condition where they would envy a vegetable. A vessel, even emptier than the Dementors themselves, capable of breathing, and virtually nothing else.

The Ministry of Magic was keen to stamp out any rumours that Dementors had fed on souls without permission. The truth was, however, that having the Dementors as guards of Azkaban was a Mephistophelean deal. If they ever received a better offer, they'd be gone in a trice.

The prisoners of Azkaban counted as their number the infamous. Many of them were Death Eaters, Lord Voldemort's fanatical supporters. A few had gone to Azkaban cheerfully holding onto their loyalty for the Dark Lord. But one had gone to Azkaban in a fall that was spectacular. From hero to mass murderer. From saviour to villain.

Look at him, in his cell, painfully thin, his once jewel-like emerald eyes dull. Behold, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, Saviour of Magical Britain…and Magical Britain's dirtiest secret. The man who killed Voldemort, and who wiped out most of the Death Eaters, killing off many lines in a bloody rampage of revenge, a rampage that left him here, a hollow wreck of what he once was.

So many deaths…his friends, his family, many of which could have been prevented if Dumbledore had been more forthcoming. Voldemort was dead, his Horcruxes destroyed…but it was a pyrrhic victory at best. Out of all his actual friends, only Harry survived. Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, Luna, Lupin, Tonks, they had been killed during that battle. He frequently remembered, courtesy of the Dementors, a nightmarish vision of seeing Luna being killed by a Blasting Hex right in front of him.

It was his friends' deaths that set him on what they'd call a roaring rampage of revenge. And it was that that led him here. Shoved into here by the Ministry of Magic as a preventative measure against a new Dark Lord. The only reason why he hadn't been given the Kiss for his actions was that he had stopped Voldemort. This was, though, something of a poor reward for a lifetime of being expected to become the saviour of Magical Britain.

The lack of gratitude didn't truly hurt any more. He felt very little at all. Anger, hatred, all had died down, until a chilling emptiness was left behind.

Nothing changed for the years he spent in Azkaban…and he never expected them to. At least not for the better.

So when one day, he opened his eyes, and found an old man with red eyes looking at him with a thoughtful smirk, he was certain that he was hallucinating, or seeing phantoms. "Fuck off, I'm not buying," he mumbled deliriously.

The reaction of the old man was odd, to say the least. He roared with laughter. "I have lived for many centuries, Harry Potter," the old man chuckled, "and yet, I don't think anyone has ever said that to me." His voice was deep, dark, and mellifluous, as if someone combined the voices of Christopher Lee and Tom Baker with a hint of Gabriel Woolf. "But in a way, I am selling something, so you are not inaccurate. My name is Kishua Zelretch Schweinorg, though my friends, enemies, and victims call me Zelretch."

"Never heard of you," Harry retorted, in the hope it would make the hallucinatory old man go away. That twinkle in the man's red eyes reminded him a lot of Sirius Black, his godfather. That same cheeky malice of someone about to pull a prank on somebody else. The recollection sent a pang through his heart. Sirius' death, as with those of all his friends, was very much an open wound.

"That's hardly surprising," Zelretch said. "Only a few on your world know of me and my reputation, and they are right to fear me. I am what is known in my world as a Dead Apostle, though a more common term for what I am would be a vampire."

After a moment, there was only one thing Harry could say coherently or intelligently to that.

"Oh."

Zelretch chuckled. "Don't worry, I'm not here to drink your blood. As I said, I am here to sell you something. Namely, your freedom from Azkaban."

"In exchange for what?"

"Putting your 'saving people thing' to good use, causing some chaos, and hopefully saving people's lives," Zelretch said bluntly. "Unlike Dumbledore, I won't keep any information from you. Unless it's funny to do so."

"Oh, great," Harry muttered.

"No, no, it could be fun."

"For you."

"And for you too." Zelretch's face became solemn. "The wizards here, they don't know what you have become. By gathering the Deathly Hallows for even a moment, such powerful artifacts brought together affected you. They are Mystic Codes that might as well be Noble Phantasms if they were wielded by a Heroic Spirit."

"…Do I have to pretend that you're making any sense?" Harry asked.

"Well, I was getting to the point, my boy," Zelretch said.

Harry scowled. "Do not. Call me. _My boy_. Dumbledore did that."

"Yes, but, well, what can you do about it, my boy?" Zelretch said, grinning widely. Harry could tell that Zelretch was enjoying riling him up. He could actually see, in his mind's eye, a cartoon caricature of the vampire poking a chained-up and muzzled Hungarian Horntail repeatedly and asking, with a big grin, _Does this bug you? Does this bug you? Does this bug you?_

The thing was, what _could_ he do about it? Harry was weak from so long spent in Azkaban, physically and magically. What could he do against a vampire? Especially one so assured of himself, he could give a Malfoy lessons in self-assuredness.

"Anyway, where was I? Oh yes. Voldemort was right in one way, that those who gather the Hallows become the Master of Death, and thus immortal. But it depends on the Hallows themselves, infused with so much power, they may as well be sentient. They would only grant immortality to someone who is willing to die. The irony is so thick, you can spread it on toast," Zelretch said. "That makes you immortal, unable to die under normal circumstances. I found out about you while I was nosing around the multiverse. Your manifold alternates fascinate me, Harry. There was one who became the adopted grandson of one of my alternate selves, and another who I sent to help shield the soul of a girl whom you'll be meeting soon. I like throwing pebbles into the pond of reality, watching the ripples unfold." A broad grin split his features once more. "And you, my boy, are a _boulder_. You will make such a splash."

"Hang on, I haven't agreed to anything!" Harry snapped.

"Now, where's the fun in that?" Zelretch said with a smirk. Before Harry could mount any form of protest, he found himself feeling like he was in a washing machine, being spun at high speeds. "By the way, my boy, do you know what a telefrag is?" were the last words Harry heard before multi-coloured oblivion, like a rainbow suffering from terminal dysentery, consumed him…

* * *

Atrum Galliasta was an unpleasant man by normal metrics of morality. But he wouldn't care. Magi set themselves beyond morality in their search for the Root of All Things, Akasha. And the blonde, arrogant man with the dark skin was supremely confident in all things, including his handsomeness, his supremacy, and his ability to win the upcoming Holy Grail War, which, oddly enough, was about to be held in Fuyuki City some decades too early. Not that that mattered, really, as it meant he could surpass Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald, and show the Magus Association how it was done, and not that Irish bint Bazett.

He had started the ritual to summon up a Servant. He had the right catalyst. He intended to summon up Medea of Colchis as a Caster class Servant, so that her rumoured ability to summon the Colchis Dragon would be his to command. And the ritual had taken on a life of its own. Even if he wanted to stop, he couldn't. The cadence of the intonation, the rhythm, was like the chuffing of a steam engine impelling a train relentlessly along tracks towards an inevitable destination.

As he concluded the chant, a blinding light filled the room. A triumphant shout died on Atrum's lips when he felt a pain in his chest. He looked down, and stared, in an imbecilic manner, at his torso. His last coherent thought before everything went away in an explosion of crimson pain didn't seem coherent, but was understandable, given the circumstances.

 _Why do I have someone's leg sticking out of my chest?_

* * *

The room was currently looking like something out of a horror film. Occult and scientific instruments were dotted around, a massive pile of viscera and blood (enough to comprise two men, had anyone bothered to quantify the remains) like a sacrifice in front of a ritual circle. Said circle had a hooded and cloaked figure in it, looking bemused and a little irritated.

The figure appeared to be a woman, wearing a dark purple dress that seemed rather old-fashioned, and over that, a hooded cloak, the hood currently concealing her features, save for a pair of lips that would normally be quirked in an amused smirk, framed by blue hair. Currently, however, those lips were pursed in confusion and irritation. Here she was, ready to make her entrance as a Servant, say those damned words, and participate in the Holy Grail War. But she had no Master in front of her, just a pile of wet, wobbling meat that looked like two people had recently exploded. Thankfully, she had materialised after said explosion, she reflected. She could get rid of the bloodstains easily with her magic, but she preferred not to be at ground zero to bodies exploding.

Then, she realised part of the pile of meat was moving. To her astonishment, disgust, and, to be honest, macabre fascination, part of the gory pile was reforming into a human being. Eventually, within about half a minute, a young man, of about twenty-odd years of age, scrawny (even emaciated: it was lucky he was even standing at all), dark-haired, and with green eyes that glittered with weariness and madness, was standing before her. Naked. A small part of her, the part that Aphrodite had fucked around with, was looking at him, and thinking, in between 'hummina's, that if he was fed up a little, he'd definitely be a looker.

A more calculating part of her mind noticed that there was something in his eyes beyond the tiredness and madness glittering in them. It was something she saw in the mirror every day of her life, as a human and as a Heroic Spirit. And she was getting a lot of prana from somewhere. It seemed to be coming from the naked, blood-spattered young man in front of her.

Then, as he looked around confused, and then looked down at the bloody remains of another man, he then yelled something rather odd. "ALL OF MY HATE, ZELRETCH!"

The woman cleared her throat rather pointedly. "Servant Caster has answered your summons," she said. "I ask of you, are you my Master?"

The young man stopped, and stared at her, before looking down at the ankle-deep pile of organs he was standing in. "Umm…I think you got the wrong guy. I think this was your master. Anyway, what do you mean, Servant? Master? Caster? You're not a House Elf, are you?"

Caster blinked. Not that the young man could see it with her eyes concealed by her hood. After a moment, she looked at his hands. And there she saw it. On his left hand, he had Command Seals. "I do not have the wrong guy, as you put it. You have Command Seals on your hand. That means that you are now a Master in the Holy Grail War."

The astonishment and confusion on his face would have been highly amusing under other circumstances, as was the torrent of expletives he soon emitted. However, Caster, known millennia ago as Medea of Colchis, knew somehow that she was going to be in for the long haul with her new Master…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **And here you have it. Harry just telefragged Caster's original Master, and has become her new Master by default. Eagle-eyed readers will note that the opening is taken, to a degree, from the first chapter of** ** _The New Cetra Heritage: Imago_** **, which is posted in** ** _The Cauldron_** **(which some of you may first be reading this chapter in).**

 **I was wondering how to make Harry the Master of Caster. Do I do it when Caster has killed her first Master? Do I do it after her first Master summoned her? I thought it'd be funnier, in a macabre way, to have Harry telefrag her first Master, and survive by stint of being the Master of Death. I was partly inspired by similar, though less gory, scenes in** ** _Doctor Who_** **, especially episode 1 of** ** _Remembrance of the Daleks_** **, where the Doctor fiddles with a transmat to ensure that one half of a Dalek materialises where the other half does.**

 **No numbered annotations for this chapter.**


	19. Light the Blue Touch Paper Chapter 2

**Having written a good chunk of the second chapter of** ** _Light the Blue Touch Paper and Run Like Hell_** **, I decided to finish it and post it here. Sadly, it has less of the humour of the first chapter, not to mention being pretty weak, story-wise. The resulting story would be Harry acting as a rather unrealistic fix-it character, which was what I was hoping to avoid, and I handled the reveal of Medea pretty badly.**

 **This means that** ** _Light the Blue Touch Paper and Run Like Hell_** **will NOT see the light of day beyond these first two chapters. But I do intend, as mentioned before, to do a** ** _Fate/Stay Night_** **fic in the near future, preferably a crossover with Harry Potter. I have the notion of a story similar to** ** _Truth and Consequences_** **and** ** _Yin and Yang_** **, with Harry and Luna, now a married couple, ending up embroiled in the events of** ** _Fate/Stay Night_** **, but that's just a notion ATM. Whatever my first foray into** ** _Fate/Stay Night_** **fanfic is, I don't know. But keep an eye out for opening chapters when I do start another one.**

 **EDIT: BTW, I've just had an idea for an interesting _Fate/Stay Night_ crossover, albeit a one-shot. It WON'T be with Harry Potter, though that sort of crossover is still on the cards. Keep an eye on my profile. It's going to be a humorous one involving Zelretch, a DVD of a certain film, and Saber...**

* * *

 _ **LIGHT THE BLUE TOUCH PAPER AND RUN LIKE HELL**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **GETTING TO KNOW YOU**

Harry was beginning to wonder what the hell he had gotten himself into. Well, what Zelretch had gotten Harry into. And the sad truth was, he was more disturbed by what he found in the building that he had ended up in than his rather messy death and rebirth. So too was the robed and hooded woman who called herself Caster, who agreed to help tell him what was going on, once they left.

They soon found, though, that whoever this man Harry had inadvertently killed was, he was not a nice person to say the very least. Harry soon had a name to go with the wobbling pile of meat: Atrum Galliasta, an alchemist working with the Magus Association. He found out because he had rather glamorous-looking assistants that Caster identified as homunculi. And with their master gone, they seemed to have latched onto Harry as a new master.

And what Harry learned from them made him feel sick. He learned of the laboratory, the Workshop, where Atrum turned so many kidnapped people into…well, he hated learning. Even Caster, who seemed to have this dark air about her, seemed disgusted, though her remarks that Atrum had wasted resources on what seemed like petty research to her made Harry look askance at her. But she was perfectly willing to release the people kept here, and after that, she led Harry out (after getting him some decent clothes from Atrum's wardrobe), and then destroyed the facility, albeit after robbing what she could of value. Harry didn't object at all.

They were on the outskirts of a Japanese town. Harry knew it was Japanese because of a road sign they saw when they reached a road. "Dammit, I don't speak Japanese," Harry muttered.

"I can, and I can prepare a translation spell for you if you need it," Caster said. "You are an odd Magus, though."

"I'm not a Magus, I'm a wizard," Harry said. "I dunno what the difference is, but…I come from another world. An alternate world. That damned vampire dumped me here with little to no explanation."

"A Dead Apostle dumped you here…from another world…I believe that is the Second Magic, Kaleidoscope," Caster said. She looked at him speculatively. "And you don't actually have Magic Circuits, but something else. It's certainly allowing me to manifest physically with little trouble to you, it seems. I'll have to astralise, though. I may attract too much attention."

"What, you can't change your clothes or something?" Harry asked.

"…I can, and, if need be, I can alter other aspects of my appearance," Caster said. "But most Masters prefer to have their Servants astralise."

After a moment, Harry said, "Could you do the whole changing appearance thing instead? Please? I mean, I've just gotten out of prison after…I dunno how many years. I was in solitary aside from the soul-sucking monsters that make you perpetually depressed, at best. I haven't spoken to anyone sane in years, especially myself."

After a moment, Caster nodded, before removing her hood. Harry was literally struck dumb by what was revealed. While he could tell she had a beautiful face, despite the hood concealing part of it, he had expected, from the smirk she often wore, something a bit more cruelly beautiful. Instead, he got regal, lugubrious features framed by blue hair. Her eyes, too, were blue, and oddly enough, her ears were pointed, making her seem like an Elf who had stepped out of the pages of Tolkien. She was a picture of utterly serene, aristocratic beauty, marred by an air of sadness.

Then, she intoned a word in another language. Her form rippled and shimmered, and she was soon wearing modern clothes, her pointed ears now more human-looking. She still had blue hair, though. She then spoke another word in that language, and Harry suddenly realised he could understand the Japanese on the road sign.

"We'll try and find somewhere to eat or something, and then I'd really like you to tell me what the hell is going on," Harry said.

He heard Medea sigh wearily. She knew as much as he did that it was going to be a long night…

* * *

As it turned out, they did find one small café that was open to obscene hours at night, and after getting a rather basic meal and some crappy coffee, Caster erected what Harry assumed to be some sort of soundproofing spell. "Normally, I would look askance at any Master who did not know of the Grail War, but your magic feels different, and I am too well-versed with deceit in myself and others to know whether you lie or not," Caster said. "In general terms, the Grail War is a contest whereby a septet of magical entities, known as Heroic Spirits, are summoned as Servants to Magi."

"Heroic Spirits?"

"Famous people from myth and history," Caster said. "Because of our impact on history and the story of humanity, we reside in a place beyond comprehension known as the Throne of Heroes. When we are summoned, it is as one of seven classes, depending on our skills in our lives as mortals: Saber, Lancer, Archer, Rider, Berserker, Assassin, and Caster. Sabers are spirits who use swords, and have generally excellent attributes, especially in melee combat. Lancers use lances, and are better at hit and run tactics. Archers use bows, or else some means of hurling weapons from afar. Those three generally have resistance to magic. Riders are those who are known for… _riding_ , anything from a steed to a ship. They are agile fighters even without their mounts. Berserkers are extremely powerful, but at the cost of their sanity. Assassins rely on stealth, and generally target Masters rather than Servants, as Servants cannot exist for long without their Masters. Finally, there are Casters, who rely on magic."

"Which is what you are," Harry mused. "Okay, but what's the point of this Grail War thing? Are they fighting for fun?"

"Hardly," Caster said. "Once six Servants are slain out of the seven, the Holy Grail is able to grant a wish to the remaining Master and Servant. For once a Servant is slain, their essence is returned to the Grail. Once the wish is made, then the essences of the Servants return to the Throne of Heroes."

"Okay, sounds screwed up," Harry said. "Not only that, but too good to be true."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, back on my world, when I discovered I had magic…it felt like all my dreams came true. But then, I soon began to realise that the world I had stepped into wasn't even remotely perfect. And that would have been fine, but…well, I was made out to be a hero all for something that happened when I was one, something that took my parents away from me. I wasn't a hero. The problem was, if I wasn't a hero to people, then I was a villain. There was no middle ground, no room for me to be just…me. Worse, I had this psycho coming after me, the same one who murdered my parents and tried to kill me when I was one. We won, but at such a cost: I was the only one left standing amongst my friends. I went after my enemies even more than before, and so, got sent to prison for my troubles, all before I turned eighteen. I don't even know how old I am now."

After intoning yet another strange word, Caster said, "You are exactly twenty-three now. Happy birthday. And if it is any consolation, I too know what it is like to have a reputation that dogs you, even after all the good you did. I don't like speaking about my life, though."

"Were you famous?" Harry asked.

"Infamous, but yes. Fame is part of a requirement to ascend to the Throne of Heroes," Caster said.

A dark chuckle sounded, before the form of Zelretch appeared nearby. "She is very like you, Harry Potter. Her myth spans many worlds. You'll forgive me for spoiling the surprise, my dear, but I think Harry prefers disclosure. Harry Potter, allow me to introduce you to Medea of Colchis."

Harry blinked. After that whole business with the Philosopher's Stone, Hermione had suggested that he read up on Greek mythology. They had, after all, encountered a Cerberus, and shortly after their exams, she had remembered the link between a Cerberus falling asleep due to music, and the myth of Orpheus.

One of the myths he read about was, of course, Jason and the Argonauts. Discussing it with Hermione during their second year, he found himself agreeing with her when she pointed out how misogynistic the ancient Greeks were, hence portraying Medea as a villain. They did that a lot, like with Medusa. After all, in many versions, Medea was made to fall in love with Jason by the Greek gods.

And given that Medea had gone to all the trouble of freeing all those people Atrum had kidnapped for use in his experiments before she destroyed his workshop (Medea's words and those of the homunculi, not his), he couldn't make a snap judgement on what she was like.

Medea, however, looked mortified, her expression becoming sorrowful, her eyes glistening. And Harry snapped at Zelretch, "Look at what you did! You made her cry!"

"And? Medea is infamous as the Witch of Betrayal. Deceit and lying are as natural to her as breathing," Zelretch said with a shrug. "How do you know she's not faking her tears to get her own way?"

"I don't know. But frankly, I'm not sure I care. If she betrays me, then it's my fault for trusting her. But you threw me in front of her for a reason."

After meeting Harry's glare for a few seconds, Zelretch nodded. "True. I was just warning you. The problem is, many judge their Servants based on their pasts, for good or for ill. That you defend her readily, despite knowing something of who she was, bodes well. I know I made the right choice." Zelretch sat down at the table with them. "You've already told Harry the basics of the Grail War, Medea, but you do not know some of the dangerous undercurrents involved, undercurrents you need to be aware of."

"And why should I listen to a Dead Apostle?" Medea asked, glaring at Zelretch.

"Consider it advice, well-intentioned, warnings that you can verify for yourself. Like you, I became a monster against my will, with my being turned into a Dead Apostle by the infamous Crimson Moon Brunestud," Zelretch said. "You can obtain a second chance at life, Medea, but only through hardship, and certainly not through the Grail. The Grail, if you forgive the pun, is very much a poisoned chalice."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"A history lesson is required on the history of the Grail War," Zelretch said. "Three great Magus families, the Tohsakas, the Makiris, and the von Einzberns all collaborated to create the Grail Wars as a means to reach Akasha, the Root of All Things. Akasha is, effectively, the Noosphere of the universe, a record of everything that is, was, and will be. The Grail was meant to open up to Akasha once all seven Servants were sacrificed to it, with the whole wish thing being a sideshow. During the third such war, the von Einzberns, in their desperation to win, summoned a very different Servant to what the rules normally allowed: Avenger. Avenger was defeated, but its core essence tainted the Grail, and given its true nature, that's hardly surprising. Avenger was once an ordinary man, turned into a scapegoat for all the evils of the world, tortured for the rest of his life, becoming known as Angra Mainyu, the evil god of Zoroastrianism. You have considerable experience with being a scapegoat, Harry, but what you went through compared to Angra Mainyu is a pittance by comparison."

"Does Angra Mainyu still reside in the Grail?" Medea asked.

"Indeed. During the Fourth Grail War, Kiritsugu Emiya, the infamous Magus Killer, was about to claim the Grail when he learned of its contamination. The experience traumatised him, as did the loss of his wife, who was a homunculus designed to become the Grail. Determined to prevent Angra Mainyu from destroying humanity, he ordered his Servant, Saber, to destroy the Grail. In fact, he forced her to, much to her distress, as she was unaware of the taint. In the resulting blast, Saber disappeared, Kiritsugu was cursed by Angra Mainyu, and hundreds of people died in the fires. Kiritsugu searched for survivors, and stumbled across one, a boy whose memory had been wiped clean by Angra Mainyu's curse. Kiritsugu adopted the boy, Shirou, as his own. Indeed, Shirou will be one of the key players in the upcoming Grail War. He is rather like you, Harry, only he is completely and utterly selfless, even more than you are, to his detriment. Emiya's biological daughter, Illyasviel von Einzbern, will also be a Master. Indeed, in this upcoming Grail War, many of the Masters are younger than twenty."

"That's horrible," Harry muttered.

"Indeed. Illyasviel and another would-be Master, Rin Tohsaka, fight to reclaim the prestige of their respective families, though Illyasviel also wants revenge on Shirou. Her mind was poisoned by her family. They claimed Kiritsugu abandoned her, when in reality, he made every effort to reclaim her, and they barred her at every turn. She is nineteen years old, but thanks to her heritage as a part-homunculus and partly due to the von Einzberns' meddling, she looks little older than nine. She is a potential vessel for the Grail, but she is far from the only one. The other is a girl named Sakura, who was adopted into the Matou family, the family the Makiri became when their bloodline began to thin out. Born a Tohsaka, she was given to the Matous as a young child…and forced by their patriarch Zouken to undergo a truly disgusting ritual to make her a Matou, having creatures known as Crest Worms invade her body. They give her the ability to use the Matou magic, but these vile parasitic creatures cause her much distress and pain. And she is abused by her family, what little there is left of it. In fact, I was thinking you could go rescue her, Ginny Weasley-style, soon. I'll give you some help in removing the Crest Worms from her body: there is a ritual that Medea, given that her power is at high levels thanks to you, can use. Normally, it can't be used by any barring the most powerful of Magi. Medea, luckily, qualifies."

"What do we get out of healing this girl?" Medea asked.

"Eternal gratitude, and she will be the Master of Rider, if this Grail War ends up like the others," Zelretch said. "Your task is to try and unite the other Masters against the biggest threat aside from the Grail. There are two significant forces that want to see Angra Mainyu unleashed on the world. There is a priest known as Kirei Kotomine, supposedly meant to be the Church's impartial observer, a referee if you will, during the Grail War. In fact, he is a former Master, and has a Servant with him. Said Servant was the Archer of the previous conflict, but you would know him as Gilgamesh. A supremely arrogant warrior king. Imagine someone, Harry, with the arrogance and superiority of a Malfoy…but with the actual power to back it up. Heroic Spirits have been mistaken for deities before, and many have divine heritage, but Gilgamesh…he is one of the strongest Servants who could exist. Those are the two you must, ultimately, overcome."

"No pressure, huh?" Harry asked.

"To the contrary, you're under a lot of pressure. That's what makes it so fun," Zelretch said with a grin. It was a grin that didn't bode well for the near future, for either Harry or Medea…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry knows who Caster is, and Zelretch actually does some exposition.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	20. Perils of Magical InvestigativeChapter 1

**Yet another possible _Fate/Stay Night_ crossover for you. This one, unlike _Light the Blue Touch Paper and Run Like Hell_ , is based more on my Harry/Luna stories, namely _Truth and Consequences_ , and _Yin and Yang_. The formula, as you might have noticed by now, is that Harry and Luna are married, Luna drags Harry into another adventure, which they have to survive. Hilarity ensues, both literally and figuratively.**

 **I think this one, honestly, has more potential to it than _Light the Blue Touch Paper_..., simply because...well, we have less angst, more comedy, and a better reason to smash Nasuverse canon into fragments with a cricket bat. Who knows, this one might actually get published...**

* * *

 _ **PERILS OF MAGICAL INVESTIGATIVE JOURNALISM**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **ESCAPE INTO DANGER**

There are many mating calls throughout the animal kingdom, from beautiful to raucous, from elegant to the grotesque. But perhaps there are fewer unusual than the one tearing its way from the lips of a young man who had just finished vomiting on the footpath.

"Goddammit, Luna…" Harry Potter said, before he heaved again, depositing more mess on the concrete footpath.

"Harry, we need to get you over these travel sickness problems," Luna Lovegood, technically Luna Potter, replied with a too-cheerful smile, given the circumstances.

"There's a difference between travel sickness, Luna, and using an emergency Portkey shortly after being nearly drowned in dragon shit by irate breeders whose spaying practises you've exposed in _The Quibbler_ ," Harry said. "Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for it, and for the automatic clothes cleaning, but still, I am nauseous. I'm puking things I don't think I have even eaten yet."

"Well, you'll be pleased to know we're not in England anymore," Luna said.

"…Why do I get the feeling that I'm not going to be pleased anyway?"

"Just your imagination," Luna said cheerfully.

"…You know, if this was me denying reality to you, it would be gaslighting," Harry remarked. "But with you doing it, it's… _you_."

Luna smirked. It was certainly an experience, Harry reflected, being married to Luna Lovegood. He broke off his relationship with Ginny for good after a year of trying to revive it after the Battle of Hogwarts. It took a while to mend bridges with the Weasleys after that. Hermione had married a Squib who had later become a scientist, of all things, and the two were doing groundbreaking research. It was actually through that Squib that Harry first heard about Magi, the 'cousins', so to speak, of wizards and witches. Both equally old-fashioned, both with their own pros and cons, and they fucking hated each other. It was rumoured that many Magi let Voldemort run around because they thought they would thin out the wizarding population substantially. Wizards thought that the Magi were cruel experimenters and meddlers in things nobody should, and the Magi thought wizards to be inbred hicks too scared to delve too deeply into magic.

At the time, his relationship with Luna had progressed to engagement, having surpassed the friends with benefits stage. It was while idly mentioning his discussion with Hermione's husband that Harry learned a shocking thing about Luna. Her family, from her mother's side, came from a long line of Magi. In fact, Luna's mother was a Homunculus, created by the von Einzberns, a notorious Magus family from Germany, known for their skill with Homunculi, their ruthlessness even by Magi standards, and their high-end ale. Luna needed some modifications to grow properly, though, as well as a charm to disguise her albino snow-white skin and her eyes, which were actually naturally red. Like Voldemort's, only on Luna, red eyes looked endearing. Harry eventually decided that being half-Homunculus merely explained a hell of a lot about the strange girl, and decided she was still all right in his book.

The relationship between Harry and Luna was considerably more complex than husband and wife. Indeed, Luna was the main breadwinner, as she turned _The Quibbler_ into a major force for investigative journalism in Magical Britain. Harry still worked, not that he needed to with his family's money, mostly as a freelance bodyguard. He'd even been a bodyguard for Draco Malfoy, of all people, for a few memorable weeks. He usually acted as Luna's bodyguard, and general minder. It was like being the assistant to Hunter S Thompson, only with less drugs and violence, and more sex and crazy.

And in a way, Harry didn't mind it. It meant he was important for something other than being the Boy Who Lived, the so-called messiah of Magical Britain, slayer of Lord Voldemort, etc. And he and Luna complemented each other. Luna, deep down, was broken in many ways, and Harry was too. They fit together like the jagged edges of a jigsaw puzzle.

Still, there were a few things about their life that Harry could do without. Like revenge attacks by people who Luna pissed off in her articles. One of which they had just escaped. And the fact that Harry didn't know where the freaking fuck he was. Again. Though the road sign in what had to be Japanese helped narrow it down.

"Luna," he began in a long-suffering tone, knowing the answer would make him more annoyed than ever, "why are we in Japan?"

"Umm, because Uncle Zelretch programmed the Portkey for Japan?"

Oh yes. Of course. It had to be Luna's Uncle Zelretch who did this. When Harry first met the old man who was like Dumbledore with a shorter beard, twinkling red eyes, and a perpetual smirk that seemed like it belonged on Sirius Black, he wasn't actually surprised that Luna's honorary uncle was actually a vampire. Or, for that matter, a vampire of a particular variety known as a 'Dead Apostle Ancestor'. Then again, save for the blood red eyes and the occasional predatory look in them, Zelretch was actually all right for a vampire. The predatory gleam usually meant that he was looking for a new victim, not to suck blood from, but to prank the ever-loving fuck out of them.

He would have fit right in with the Marauders. Indeed, Zelretch had actually employed Remus Lupin immediately after he was forced to resign from Hogwarts, as a research assistant. When Harry asked why, Zelretch claimed (albeit with a pseudo-Dumbledoresque twinkle in his sanguine eyes) that he wanted to prank people who believed a werewolf and a vampire couldn't get along. Indeed, apparently Lupin and Zelretch pranked a lot of people at Clock Tower, and Zelretch had been forced to dismiss Lupin on the orders of Barthomeloi Lorelei, the so-called Queen of Clock Tower. Even so, Zelretch was named by Lupin as the second godfather of Teddy Lupin, much to the horror of Andromeda Tonks. That was the first time Harry heard of Zelretch, though he only met him for the first time through Luna.

"Luna…at the risk of regretting my question, why did Zelretch set the emergency Portkey to Japan?" Harry asked tentatively.

"Because my next big exposé was to be in Japan," Luna said with a wide grin. "I was going to do a special article on the upcoming Fuyuki Holy Grail War. Uncle Zelretch claimed it was going to be starting fifty years ahead of schedule."

Harry stared at her incredulously. While he was all for investigative journalism, doing so about a war sounded like a bad idea, if one was about to get caught up in the middle of it. And given his bad luck, and both of their tendencies to attract trouble like blowflies to a corpse, he knew something was going to go badly wrong. "…And you didn't see fit to ask me?"

Luna shrugged. "Uncle Zelretch said that it's better to seek forgiveness than permission. Your creed as well as mine. Anyway, you weren't complaining when I gave you that surprise in the shower two nights ago."

"I've gotten used to those," Harry said.

"Oh. I might have to change it up a bit, then." Luna then peered behind him. Her face lost its smile, instead having a mask of mild concern. Experience as the spouse and minder of Luna Lovegood (despite being married to him, she kept her maiden name, simply because she thought of Luna Potter as not odd enough) had given him the ability to determine whether her concern meant that he had a psychotic Nundu charging behind him, or whether she had just noticed something fall off a nearby shelf. Judging by her look, what was currently behind him was not immediately dangerous, and indeed might be in need of assistance.

He turned to find a strange figure behind him. Not as strange as some of those he had experienced during his life, even when at Hogwarts, though by mundane standards, the blue robes and dark hooded cloak were strange and old-fashioned. It was a woman, her face mostly hidden by the hood of her cloak, though the lower part of her face was visible, along with strands of light blue hair. There was also a strange sense of fatigue about her, as if she was running out of energy. Subtle, nothing as explicit as breathing heavily, but there was an instability to her stance that spoke of exhaustion.

The woman spoke in accented English. Not a Japanese accent by any means, but one that sounded odd all the same. "You two…what are you? Magi?"

"I'm a witch, he's a wizard," Luna said. She tilted her head. "Are you a Servant?"

After a brief moment, the woman nodded her hooded head. "Caster."

"Gesundheit?" Harry asked.

Luna ignored him, skipping merrily over to the woman, and peered at her. The woman pursed her lips in what could have been annoyance, bemusement, or even amusement, or all of the above. "Just out of interest, how do you feel about having a _ménage à trois?_ "

In the silence that followed, Harry said, "Luna, we are NOT making this woman a sex slave. Why the hell did you call this poor woman a Servant?"

"Because she is one. Oh, that's right. I didn't tell you about Heaven's Feel."

"…Is that anything to do with that plan you had to grope an angel?"

"No, no. Though thanks for reminding me," Luna said with a smile.

The woman in the hooded cloak turned her attention to Harry. "If she is your wife or concubine, I pity you. But time is of the essence. I require one of you to become my Master. Preferably the sane one."

"Luna's not insane, she's…just a little reality-impaired," Harry said, Luna beaming all the while.

After a brief pause, the woman said, "I stand by my earlier statement."

"Yeah, but…I have issues about having servants."

"Oh, I cannot tarry any longer!" the woman said exasperatedly. "I need your help, or I will soon vanish from this plane of existence, and to be perfectly honest, I would prefer to remain here for a little while longer yet. Can I put it any more bluntly than that?"

"Oh." Harry blinked. But before he could do anything, Luna skipped merrily over, and kissed the woman in a rather passionate manner. The woman seemed as surprised at this as Harry was, so much so that her hood fell back.

Harry stared at the woman's face. Long blue hair framed a face that was both regally beautiful and rather lugubrious. Her eyes added to this, a melancholy, beautiful blue. But her ears were the oddest feature, being pointed, rather like an elf's ears.

When Luna broke off the kiss, the woman seemed to blink rapidly, her eyes seemingly threatening to roll into the back of her head. "Ah," the woman said. "Well, that is one way to supply me with a…hmm, what is an appropriate colloquialism?"

"A TARDIS-load?" Luna supplied.

After a moment, the woman decided to go with it. "…Right. A TARDIS-load of prana."

Harry, meanwhile, frowned as he noticed something on Luna's hand. "Luna…since when did you get an ominous-looking demonic tattoo?"

"Oh, this?" Luna said. "They are Command Seals. I got them when I agreed to become Caster's Master."

"…Is that her name? Caster?"

"In much the same way as Boy Who Lived is your name, yes," Luna said. "Her real name, though, is Medea of Colchis. You may remember her from such legends as Jason and the Argonauts, and a supporting role in the myth of Theseus. Yet another woman in Greek myth royally screwed over by gods and mortals alike. Actually, yet another woman screwed over by history." She cocked her head. "Did you hear that noise?"

"What noise?" Harry and Caster…well, Medea, who looked rather shocked at Luna's blasé reveal of her identity, said simultaneously.

"All those women obscured or maligned unnecessarily by history and myth all sneezing at once," Luna said.

Medea looked askance at Luna, before saying, "I appreciate the sentiment, but you know that you are now my Master, and all that entails."

"Of course."

Harry put his hand up. "Umm, I didn't get the memo. Can I have the abridged version?"

"Oh, well, you know that Holy Grail War thing I wanted to cover for _The Quibbler_ , Harry? Well, as of now, we're participating in it!"

Harry stared at Luna, and then at Medea, who seemed to be giving him a pitying look, before looking back at Luna, before giving voice to his thoughts in the only way he could, given the circumstances.

"Oh, fuck all kinds of duck."

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, here you have it. I originally intended, as with** ** _Light the Blue Touch Paper_** **…, for Harry to be Medea's Master. But the thought of Luna snogging Medea (as she does with Lust in** ** _Truth and Consequences_** **, and Poison Ivy in** ** _Yin and Yang_** **) was too appealing to pass up. Luna's the kind of person to French-kiss a Basilisk just to see what it'd taste like. Well, she IS a Ravenclaw with a strange sense of what is considered dangerous. And considering Casters require more strategic skills to make up for their crappy ability to fight under normal circumstances, it suits Luna, a Ravenclaw, to be paired up with one.**

 **But who will Harry's Servant be? And how will they affect Heaven's Feel? You'll see.**

 **As of writing this (but before I publish this as a story rather than a sample chapter), I have obtained** ** _Fate/Stay Night: Unlimited Blade Works Part 1_** **on DVD.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	21. Perils of Magical InvestigativeChapter 2

_**PERILS OF MAGICAL INVESTIGATIVE JOURNALISM**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **HEAVEN'S FEEL, BAD TOUCH**

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose in ever-increasing frustration and annoyance. If he understood Luna and Medea correctly, he had just been dragged into a magical tournament not unlike the Tri-Wizard Tournament, only far more secretive, far more acrimonious, and far more lethal. Seven people, known as Masters, would summon seven famous figures from throughout myth and history, Heroic Spirits, to become their Servants, to do battles by proxy. As Masters provided their Servants with the energy to stay in existence, an unspoken rule was that killing the Master to defeat the Servant was allowed, even encouraged. All for the prize of the Holy Grail, an artifact that was supposed to grant the desires of the last Servant and Master left standing.

There were seven 'classes', one for each of the Servants. Sabers, the masters of swordplay, experts in close-range battle. Lancers, masters of using spears and polearms, fighting with alacrity from just out of arm's reach. Archers, masters of ranged weaponry, capable of annihilating enemies from afar. Riders, known for their vehicles or mounts, the fastest of the classes. Berserkers, insanely strong, and just plain insane, overwhelming enemies with sheer strength and tenacity. Assassins, known to use stealth and deception to target Masters especially.

And Casters, experts in magic, and capable of reshaping the landscape, so to speak, to gain a boost to their magic, as well as create magical items.

Now his wife was the Master of one of them. Which meant she was in danger. Well, they both were.

So, same shit, different day.

God, he wondered why he was Sorted into Gryffindor. Life and death situations tended to pall after the first couple of them. He sometimes wondered why he didn't try to work it out with Ginny instead of Luna.

Well, Luna had a good heart, first and foremost. Ginny did too, admittedly, and she was pretty. But Luna was also devastatingly intelligent (in a very lateral way), could make him laugh when he needed it, had a smoking hot body, and the sex was pretty wild. She was perpetually interesting too.

He just wished it didn't veer into the 'may you live in interesting times' curse territory. He'd had enough of interesting times during his time at Hogwarts.

After a moment, Harry said, "Leaving all that aside, given that you've conscripted us into a very lethal magical tournament that makes the Tri-Wizard Tournament look like a kid's soccer game by comparison…"

"I dunno, some of those games can get pretty vicious, even when kids are involved," Luna said.

"Before I was so rudely interrupted, I was about to point out that, if they target Masters, what's to stop them from targeting me to gain leverage over you?"

They were climbing the steps leading to a temple, Medea and Luna having explained things to Harry as they walked up there. Medea had decided she wanted to make the temple, sitting as it did on a number of leylines, her base of operations.

"That's a fair point," Medea said. "The best solution is for you to summon a Servant of your own. The source of your magic seems to be different to the Magi who usually fight in these wars, but to be frank, it's not incompatible. To tell the truth, I feel invigorated. I could probably use my Noble Phantasm more times than I normally could."

"Umm, I don't want to summon someone to fight and die on my behalf," Harry said.

"Harry, when Servants die, they return to the Throne of Heroes. That's where the Heroic Spirits reside when they're not fighting. Think of it as Valhalla meets HP Lovecraft," Luna said.

"…That's far from reassuring," Harry said.

* * *

The Ryuudou Temple, as the temple on the hill proved to be called, turned out to be surprisingly accommodating. Medea claimed that she had been mugged, only to be helped by Harry and Luna, and she needed somewhere to stay for the time being. As it turned out, the monks were distantly aware of magic, and one of them had heard of Harry Potter, so they went out of their way to be accommodating to the trio. A man called Souichirou Kuzuki, a rather stoic-looking character, also helped smooth things over, as he lived at the temple too, despite being no monk. Harry decided he was going to give the temple a huge donation for their troubles.

In the austere room assigned for them, they set up a summoning circle. Then, apparently out of nowhere, Luna provided a series of items, which Harry looked askance at. "We use those to summon a Servant," Harry said flatly.

"Yes," Luna said with a smile, though he didn't fail to notice her shooting a look at Medea, who seemed about to say something.

"…At least it isn't a rubber chicken and a whip, like last time," Harry muttered.

"Last time?" Medea asked, raising an azure eyebrow.

"I was trying unconventional methods to summon _loa_ ," Luna said carelessly. She handed Harry the items, including a printed page. Harry wondered briefly why she had a printout, before deciding, it was Luna. Whenever she heard the word 'impossible', she reached for the nearest dictionary(1).

After placing the items, holding a knife and a feather in his hands, Harry sighed, and then began. "I give you Coin I made from a stone. I give you a Song I stole from the dirt. I give you a Knife from under the hills, and a Stick that I stuck through a dead man's eye. I give you a Claw I ripped from a rat. I give you a Name, and the Name is lost." Harry pricked his wrist with the knife carefully, wincing, having flashbacks to the time when Pettigrew revived Voldemort with bone dust from Tom Riddle Senior, Pettigrew's own hand, and Harry's blood. "I give you the Blood from out of my vein, and a Feather I pulled from an angel's wing."

As Luna and, after a moment, Medea began chanting " _Come_ ," over and over again, Harry continued. He wasn't sure if he could stop. The ritual, wherever the hell Luna got it from, was taking over, the magic having the momentum all of its own. "I call you with names, oh my lord, oh my lord. I summon with poison and summon with pain. I open the way and open the gates. Come. I summon you in the name of the Old Lords. Namtar. Allatu. Morax. Naberius. Klesh. Vepar. Maymon. Ashema-Deva calls you. Maborym calls you. Horvendile calls you. From the dark they call you…into the dark they call you."

The circle in front of them flared with light, but Harry continued, even as he felt his hand, the one which had been etched into by the Blood Quill of Umbridge so long ago, flare with pain. "Coin and Song, Knife and Stick, Claw and Name, Blood and Feather. Here in the darkness, here in the darkness, here in the darkness, here in the darkness, here in the darkness…we summon you together. COME!"

One last flare of light, and, to Harry's complete and utter shock, someone was standing in the middle of the circle. Not some _thing_ , not the writhing mass of tentacles and insanity he had been half-expecting in the back of his mind (he had the feeling that, if Cthulhu existed, Luna would summon him to interview him for _The Quibbler_ ). But it was a woman. And a very beautiful and buxom one at that.

She was dressed in a daringly-short black dress, with what seemed to be long gloves and stockings. She had long, violet hair, framing a beautiful, if somewhat stoic, face. Her forehead was marred by a strange occult symbol, while her eyes were covered by a sort of rigid blindfold, like a domino mask without eyeholes.

"Servant Rider has answered your… _unconventional_ summons," the woman said, her soft voice having a faint, lyrical hiss to it, like a snake. "I ask of you, are you my master?"

" _I guess I am_ ," Harry said ruefully, looking down at his hand, at the Command Seals branded onto it. He didn't even realise what he had spoken in until Rider and Caster looked at him sharply.

" _You speak the serpent tongue?_ " Rider asked, surprised.

" _I'm a Parselmouth, if that's what you mean_ ," Harry said. He initially thought that had gone away with Voldemort's Horcrux, but it turned out to remain. Luna had gotten him to have interviews with various snakes, some of which she published in _The Quibbler_.

"You never told me your husband was a Parselmouth," Medea remarked.

"It's a bit of a sensitive subject for him," Luna said.

Rider looked over at Medea and Luna, before turning to him with what was probably a confused look in her eyes, if they were visible. "Master?" she asked in English.

"Okay, a few ground rules," Harry said. "Firstly, no fighting each other unless we explicitly say so. Secondly, I'd prefer it if you call me by my name, and not Master. I am Harry Potter. This is my wife, Luna Lovegood."

Luna smiled winningly. "That's my Servant Caster, better known as Medea of Colchis, and…ooh. Harry, guess who you've got?"

"Umm…a blind Parselmouth?"

"Affinity with snakes, and I think that blindfold is for our protection. Ooh, Harry, you got Medusa! Am I right?" she asked Rider with a grin.

After a moment, Rider admitted, "Yes. I am Medusa."

Harry tilted his head, and frowned. "Huh. No snakes for hair…but that's a good thing. Wow, you weren't what I expected when I think of Medusa."

"I see," Medusa said in a rather neutral tone.

"That was a compliment. You're very beautiful."

A faint smile touched Medusa's features. Medea gave Harry a look, before he added, hastily, "I seem to be attracting a lot of beautiful women lately."

"Who knows, you may get a harem!" Luna said with a grin.

Noticing Medusa's confused look (an impressive feat, considering how much the blindfold obscured her eyes and part of her face), Harry said, "She's like that."

"Is she a Maenad, or perhaps an acolyte of Eris(2)?" Medusa asked.

"She tried that whole Dionysian frenzy thing as a fad shortly after we started dating. She decided to give it up because of the hangovers," Harry said.

"She seems like the perfect acolyte for Dionysus, or Eris. Or Zagreus, for that matter," Medea muttered.

* * *

After some persuasion from Harry, both Servants managed to change their appearance to something that, if they needed to walk around, they wouldn't draw comment. Much, anyway. Medea wore a surprisingly conservative dress that gave her an oddly maternal air, while Medusa wore trousers, a jumper, and her blindfold (named the Breaker Gorgon) was changed into a pair of glasses.

Seeing her eyes for the first time was a revelation. Instead of the ophidian orbs he expected, they were actually magenta, the pupils like a small rectangle. And surprisingly beautiful to boot.

As they sat down in their room, Harry frowned. "You know, one thing's bothering me. You said the Grail War takes place every sixty years, right? And yet, it's only been about ten since the last one. Now, by any arithmetic, that means the Grail War's happening about fifty years too early. So, what gives?"

Luna looked at Medusa and Medea, before she said, her face now solemn, "Uncle Zelretch told me something. Apparently the Grail is corrupted."

This seemed to provoke more shocked reactions from the two Servants than it did from Harry. Then again, a magical wish-granting artifact? That sounded too good to be true. "Explain yourself, now," Medea said.

"Well, he didn't tell me much," Luna said. "But what he did tell me painted a disturbing picture." And considering how serious she looked now, it had to be disturbing. "The previous Grail War was one of the most bloody, and the three surviving Masters were lucky _to_ survive, by all accounts. I'm part-Homunculus, my mother being a defective Homunculus created by the von Einzberns. My aunt, for want of a better term, was married to Kiritsugu Emiya, better known as the Magus Killer. He was an infamous mercenary, a hitman if you will, working for the Magi authorities to clean up after rogue Magi. He fell in love with a von Einzbern Homunculus, my aunt, Irisviel, who was created to be the Lesser Grail."

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"The Lesser Grail is the vessel in which the spirits of the slain Servants are stored, temporarily," Medea said. "After a certain point, the von Einzberns turned the Lesser Grail into Homunculi, so that they could be mobile, defend themselves from any attempts to steal them and subvert the Grail War system."

"But…they're living thinking creatures," Harry said quietly.

Medea snorted in disdain. "Many Magi view everything as potential resources, means to an end. My first master, Altrum Galliasta, was like that. He kidnapped a multitude of people, mostly children, to use in obscene experiments that provided a pittance of results. A waste of life and resources. I killed him when I had the chance, freed his test subjects, and then destroyed his workshop."

Luna nodded. "The three families who founded the Grail Wars, and who are the most frequent participants, are amongst the most ruthless of Magi lines. The von Einzberns of Germany, the Makiris formerly of Russia, and the Tohsakas of Japan. Emiya eventually won the Grail with his Servant, Saber, who, according to Uncle Zelretch, was King Arthur. The two didn't get on well: he was a ruthless, pragmatic killer, and she was very much a chivalrous knight."

"Wait, she? King Arthur was a woman?" Harry demanded.

"Yep," Luna said with a small smile. "But Emiya, for some reason, destroyed the Grail. He forced Saber to do so, using his remaining Command Seals. Some thought it was out of revenge, as Irisviel had become the Grail, but Emiya knew about that. Others thought he was suborned by an unknown third party to spite the von Einzberns. Emiya was notoriously mercenary, after all. But Uncle Zelretch thinks that there may have been something actually wrong with the Grail itself, and Emiya wanted it destroyed to prevent some sort of disaster. Even so, the consequences were disastrous, to say the least. A massive fire broke out, killing hundreds. Emiya died five years ago of an unknown illness, despite trying and failing to retrieve his daughter by Irisviel. He has an adopted son called Shirou, whom he rescued from the fire caused by the Grail being destroyed. Both, Uncle Zelretch claimed, would get involved."

"…And now, _we're_ involved," Harry muttered.

"Well, look at it this way Harry. I get to do an exposé, you get to do your saving people thing, think of it as a working holiday."

Medusa shot Harry a sympathetic look. Even Medea looked sympathetic. Harry sighed quietly to himself. No rest for the wicked, and even less for the virtuous…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **A cyber-cookie goes to anyone who knows where I got the faux-ritual chant from used to summon Rider.**

 **In case you're wondering about Sakura, I've decided on her Servant: Assassin. Which one, of course, is another matter.**

 **1\. Luna (and her dark side) says this in my crossover with** ** _Puella Magi Madoka Magica, Puella Magi Luna Magica_** **. It sums her up pretty well.**

 **2\. A Maenad was one of the followers of Dionysus, or Bacchus. Their most infamous role in Greek myth was tearing Orpheus into pieces. Eris is the goddess of discord.  
**


	22. Ex Umbra in Solem Chapter 1

**My flirtations with Harry Potter crossovers with the Nasuverse continues, with one plot bunny that won't leave me alone. This one is with _Fate/Zero_. While I hope to make this a full story, it's dependent on me obtaining a copy of the _Fate/Zero_ anime. I have read the first volume of the manga, though, and I have a rough idea of what happens in the story. I just need the anime to get a better idea of how to alter the story's finer details.**

 **Anyway, like _Light the Blue Touch Paper_..., it has a Master of Death Harry. But the opening is somewhat different, and unlike my other Master of Death Harry stories, it's considerably darker. It's not without humour, but like _Fate/Zero_ , this is going to be a dark work. It'll also have Harry/Arturia. Something about that pairing attracts me, considering they are two Chosen Ones who got royally shafted in their lives. And while Harry is going to be as cynical as Kiritsugu, he's also going to be nicer to Arturia than Kiritsugu, and call out Kiritsugu and Rider/Iskander on their criticism.**

 **Just to clear things up, Harry hasn't quite been summoned as a Servant. Rather, he is a 'pseudo-Servant' here, an unofficial eighth Servant. Bluebeard will still be the official Caster. Harry hasn't got the power or skills to go up against Servants...save for his immortality.**

* * *

 _ **EX UMBRA IN SOLEM**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **ENDING AND BEGINNING**

The fear in the ancient chamber was palpable, so thick, it could be cut with a knife. It was directed, incongruously enough, at two sources within the chamber. One was an ancient stone archway, over which a veil fluttered gently in a non-existent wind. The other was the figure of a boy.

He was in his late teens, a scrawny scarecrow figure, on the verge of emaciation. His dark hair hung around his face in a matted mess. Green eyes, which once were like emeralds, were now dull and virtually lifeless. A faded scar, in the shape of a lightning bolt, was hidden by his tangled fringe. He was held up by a pair of Aurors while his sentence was read out, again. As a formality.

"…and so, for these crimes, and your abominable status, you are hereby sentenced to be cast through the Veil." That odious Batrachian Bitch Umbridge finally stopped talking. How he wished he had killed her when he first met her. So many here in this chamber were alive because Harry showed undue mercy. So many people were dead because of the same reason. People who were alive or dead when they didn't deserve to be.

And then she opened her mouth again. "Well? Have you nothing to say, 'Master of Death'? Has the Kneazle got your tongue, you abomination? No last words?"

A rasping chuckle emanated from the figure, which devolved into coughing. The smile the face bore was more of a grotesque rictus, a pseudo-snarl containing more teeth than levity. The eyes, once dull and lifeless, now bore the flickering embers of something that made lifelessness desirable by comparison. The embers of madness.

"Last words?" rasped the boy. "You never let me speak for myself, you bitch. I'd call you a whore, but nobody would ever sleep with the likes of you."

Umbridge whipped out her wand, about to cast the Cruciatus, before she restrained herself with an effort. "The likes of you should never be allowed to speak."

"I killed Voldemort for you, got rid of the Death Eaters, and is this to be my reward?" the boy demanded. "My friends are dead thanks to those you supported. Go on, roll up your sleeve, show us you don't have a Dark Mark."

"I don't answer to the likes of you," Umbridge sneered.

"You don't answer to anyone," the boy sneered back. "You want last words? Here they are. _I hate you all_. Everything and everyone I loved about Magical Britain was taken from me. I don't regret those deaths. In fact, I only regret two things: allowing myself to be a pawn to all and sundry, and not killing you and your ilk."

On a signal from Umbridge, the boy was dragged to the Veil. He didn't put up a fight. "This is the end, Harry Potter. Wherever the Veil leads, you won't be coming back."

Harry Potter managed to halt his escort at that, and glared at Umbridge. "I will find a way back. Do you hear me? I will correct the mistakes I made… _INCLUDING ALL OF YOU!_ "

Even as he was hurled, soundlessly, through the Veil, the consternation in the chamber reached fever pitch. Even Umbridge, for a moment, actually believed him, and quaked briefly in fear. But the moment passed, and Magical Britain, all the poorer for the passing of so many, went on…

* * *

In the void, Harry Potter drifted. No King's Cross Station in the sky with Dumbledore to comfort him (though by this point, Harry would have kicked him in the balls repeatedly until they were cojone jam), no crowds of his friends and family…just nothing. Just a washed-out white nothingness.

For the time being, until he went crazy from sensory deprivation, he would enjoy it. Better than Azkaban.

Behold, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, Saviour of Magical Britain…and Magical Britain's dirtiest secret. The man who killed Voldemort, and who wiped out most of the Death Eaters, killing off many lines in a bloody rampage of revenge, a rampage that left him here, a hollow wreck of what he once was.

So many deaths…his friends, his family, many of which could have been prevented if Dumbledore had been more forthcoming. Voldemort was dead, his Horcruxes destroyed…but it was a pyrrhic victory at best. Out of all his actual friends, only Harry survived. Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, Luna, Lupin, Tonks, they had been killed during that battle. He frequently remembered, courtesy of the Dementors, a nightmarish vision of seeing Luna being killed by a Blasting Hex right in front of him.

It was his friends' deaths that set him on what they'd call a roaring rampage of revenge. And it was that that led him here. First, thrown into Azkaban by the Ministry of Magic as a preventative measure against a new Dark Lord. Then, they threw him through the Veil. Though not before some elements within the Ministry tried to have him killed.

The Kiss of the Dementors never worked: his soul remained stubbornly anchored to his body. The Killing Curse worked for all of ten seconds. Fiendfyre killed him for about an hour, while his ashes coalesced back together. Nothing killed him. Then again, even temporary death wasn't as bad as the gnawing nagging pain in his heart. Of having his friends die. Of the bastards who did it, or at least the ones who survived his rampage, getting away with it.

He would do almost anything to bring them back. But to be honest, the only way he could bring them back is if he could turn back time years and years, or find some magical wish-granting artifact. And there was really no such thing, was there?

As if bidden by his thoughts, a giant hand seemed to grasp at his body. He found himself being pulled through the void, a strange eldritch wind seeming to whip at his hair. For some reason, a shape seemed to form out of the void in front of him, almost like a mirror.

But it wasn't a mirror image. It was the image of a girl about his age, dressed in a blue dress that nonetheless had armoured pieces to it. Her blonde hair was done in a severe bun, her face beautiful but stern.

It was the eyes, however, that he noticed. Green, stern, like emeralds. Like his own…

* * *

In another world, in an ancient chapel abutted to a vast snowbound castle, a ritual was taking place. Despite it being in a chapel, it had the air of an occult summoning, as if to summon up a demon.

Which was, in a way, still a distinct possibility. But in truth, the ritual wasn't to summon up a demon, but a hero. This was a ritual used to summon a Heroic Spirit, one of the manifold heroes of myth and history, to act as a fighter for the Holy Grail War of Fuyuki, on behalf of a Magus. The Magus was known as a Master, and the Heroic Spirit, a Servant. Seven such pairs of Masters and Servants would fight to the death (only the Servants needed to die, but Masters were frequently targeted, as Servants relied on their Masters to supply them with energy) in the Japanese city of Fuyuki. All for the chance of one lucky Master and Servant winning the Holy Grail, a magical artifact that, it was said, could grant the wish of the last Master and Servant standing.

On the altar, a beautiful-looking metal scabbard lay. Near the circle, a pair of people stood. One of them was an eerily beautiful woman, apparently in her twenties, with snow white hair, pale skin, and red eyes. The other was a man, whose stubble-marred face was handsome, but with an air of weariness, as if the weight of the whole world, and his decisions in life, was on his shoulders. He was dressed in a suit, albeit a slightly dishevelled one, as if he slept in it.

The woman was Irisviel von Einzbern, and not technically a human being. Instead, she was a Homunculus, an artificial human being with one sole purpose in her creation: to be the Lesser Grail of the Grail War. Her body, eventually, would become the Holy Grail itself once the essence of enough Servants entered it.

The man was Kiritsugu Emiya. Despite only just entering his thirties, he already had a reputation as the Magus Killer, a ruthless mercenary who worked to clean up the most egregious messes his kind left. Magi were ruthless, amoral creatures for the most part, but Kiritsugu Emiya was even more so. It was strange, then, that underneath the cold-hearted exterior was the soul of an idealistic child who wanted nothing less than world peace, and he thought the Grail was what could give him that.

It was Kiritsugu who was chanting the ritual. The scabbard on the altar was Avalon, the enchanted sheathe that once housed Excalibur, the famed sword of King Arthur. It was Arthur that Kiritsugu intended to summon, channelling his magic into the ritual circle in front of him, as he spoke the words. " _Heed my words. My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny. If you heed the Grail's call, and obey my will and reason, then answer my summoning! I hereby swear that I shall be all the good in the world, that I shall defeat all evil in the world! Seventh Heaven clad, and the great words of power, come forth from the circle of bindings, Guardian of the Scales!_ "

Now, Irisviel von Einzbern began to realise something was wrong partway through the summoning. She felt her magic being drained into the circle briefly, felt a pain on her hand that shouldn't be there. The instant before everything dissolved in a blast of white light and wind, Irisviel realised there were Command Seals on her hand. But that was impossible, wasn't it?

As the smoke and light died away, an exhausted Kiritsugu and a much-less tired Irisviel looked at the circle. It seemed that their attempt at summoning King Arthur was not a wholly unqualified success. They had expected one person to emerge from the circle, not two.

The most impressive of the figures was a girl, in her late teens, with blonde hair done up in a bun. She was wearing some sort of hybrid of blue dress and armour. There was something regal to her bearing, and to her stern but beautiful features. She seemed to clasp what seemed to be a weapon in her hand, though all that could be seen of it was rippling and swirling air.

The other figure was considerably less impressive, a near-emaciated scarecrow of a boy in his late teens, dressed in rags, messy black hair framing a haggard face, green eyes glinting with madness, and astonishment. He was staring around in confusion. Kiritsugu and his wife noted that his body seemed to be changing before their eyes, becoming less emaciated, still slender, but less like someone close to death's door. "What the bloody hell?" he croaked in English, expressing Kiritsugu and Irisviel's sentiments precisely.

The girl opened her own green eyes at that, startled, and wheeled to face him. "What folly is this?" she demanded.

"That's what I'd like to know," Kiritsugu said. "This ceremony was meant to summon Arthur, King of the Britons, as Saber."

The girl, seemingly realising this, turned back to face him. "Servant Saber has answered your summons. I ask of you, are you the one who summoned me?"

"You are the legendary King of Knights, Arthur?" Irisviel asked.

"Aye, that is what I am known to history's page as," Saber said. "Arturia was the name I was born under. Which of you was the one who summoned me?"

In another time, Kiritsugu would have merely stormed out of the chapel. But in this time, reluctantly, he held up his hand, showing the Command Seals on the back of it. He then looked over at the boy. "You, what class have you been summoned as?"

"What?"

"Answer me."

"How can I answer you when I don't know what the bloody question means?!" the boy protested. Kiritsugu frowned. He was either a good actor, or he genuinely didn't know. Indeed, there was something in the boy's eyes that reminded Kiritsugu of so many other eyes, of those with the weight of the world on their shoulders.

Irisviel studied her Command Seals, and said, "It seems like he was summoned as Caster, given the shape of the Command Seals, but…I'm detecting no drain on my reserves after the initial summoning. I'm not even sure if they work."

The boy blinked. "Command Seals? Caster? What the fuck are you talking about?!"

"Kindly restrain your language, lad!" Arturia snapped.

"Lad? You're no older than I am…wait, didn't you say you were King Arthur or something? I thought King Arthur was a man."

"Aye, that was how history portrayed me," Arturia said.

After a moment, the boy said, "Huh. Okay, King Arthur was a teenaged girl. Where are we, anyway? Not England, is it? Please tell me we're not anywhere near the Ministry of Magic?"

"…There is no Ministry of Magic," Kiritsugu said. "And no, you are not in England. You are in Germany, in the castle of the von Einzbern family."

"Never heard of them." Then, the boy blinked. "Wait, what? No Ministry of Magic? What year is it?"

"1994," Kiritsugu supplied(1), humouring the possible madman…or victim of one of Zelretch's pranks. The old vampire was known for his fiddling around with parallel worlds, this boy could have been one of his victims.

"…Fuck," the boy said bleakly. "It was just after New Year's, 2000, when they chucked me through the Veil. So the Tri-Wizard Tournament hasn't taken place yet at Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts? Tri-Wizard Tournament?" Irisviel asked. "Forgive me, but we don't know what those are, and we know much about the world of magic."

The boy looked at them sharply. "Not even Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived?"

Kiritsugu and Irisviel shook their heads simultaneously. Arturia, however, looked thoughtful. "Harry Potter…I believe I know of that name, through knowledge the Grail has provided me with. He is one who has haunted the Throne of Heroes, one of the few heroes of your time…and yet…if you know not his name, then this is a different world to what he knows. But…he cannot be a Heroic Spirit as he is now, or else he would know what the Grail War is. He must be an alternate from another world."

"Another world?" Harry asked in a bleak, empty tone. He put his head in his hands. "Oh, what the hell have I gotten myself into?"

It was a sentiment shared by the others present, and understandably so, especially given what was at stake here…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, here you have it, the first chapter of** ** _Ex Umbra in Solem_** **. People will see a lot of the DNA of** ** _Light the Blue Touch Paper_** **…, as well as** ** _Nitimur in Vetitum_** **and** ** _Newport Mage_** **. However, this will be a darker story.**

 **1\. Given that the original** ** _Fate/Stay Night_** **was released in 2004, and that** ** _Fate/Zero_** **is explicitly set during the 1990s (Bill Clinton is president of the US), I decided that, for the purpose of this story,** ** _Fate/Zero_** **is set in 1994, while** ** _Fate/Stay Night_** **is set in 2004.**


	23. Ex Umbra in Solem Chapter 2

**Before I get on with the second chapter, let's get something off my chest. I decided to remove a few elements from the story (like Irisviel getting Command Seals that mark Harry as a Caster, despite not being a Servant) because that'd complicate the story a bit too much. Therefore, I will be editing the first couple of chapters of _Ex Umbra in Solem_ before I post it as a story. However, I'm presenting these chapters as I originally wrote them, pre-editing.**

* * *

 _ **EX UMBRA IN SOLEM**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **EXPLANATIONS**

They had been left alone in the chapel, save for a few pale-skinned women in maid outfits that Arturia had identified as Homunculi. Harry sat on one of the pews, Arturia next to him, as she toyed with the elaborate scabbard, gold and blue. "After all this time, they found it. Avalon."

"I thought Avalon was a place," Harry muttered, struggling to find a handle on this whole bizarre scenario. After all, he was in what was probably an alternate universe, next to King Arthur, who turned out to be a young woman called Arturia.

"Aye, but it is also this scabbard, the sheathe to Excalibur," Arturia said. She was smiling softly at the sheathe, as if it were an old friend returned to her. Harry guessed it really was. Her face became stern again, though, as she took her invisible sword, and dispelled the air moving around it. A blade seemed to materialise, a golden blade of exquisite beauty. Even the Sword of Godric Gryffindor had nothing on this.

"Is that Excalibur?" Harry breathed, actually awestruck by the beauty of the blade. Harry was surprised that he even had the capacity to feel awe, and yet, Excalibur kindled the dying embers of that emotion in his heart.

"Aye, indeed it is," Arturia said, sliding the famous sword into its sheathe. As it clicked home, she said, "You're no Heroic Spirit. Or rather, you have not manifested as the Heroic Spirit of yourself that resides within the Throne of Heroes."

"What do you mean? Nobody will explain anything. Meaning same shit, different day," Harry said bitterly.

"Temper your vulgar tongue, Harry Potter. I have gone through trials and travails as you have, but I rarely succumb to the urge to emit vicious oaths."

"You're not my mother," Harry retorted.

Arturia refrained from her own retort. Eventually, she said, "I wish Merlin could help. He was a better teacher than I. Where should I begin?" Closing her eyes, sighing, she said, quietly, "Two centuries ago, a triumvirate of Magi families united with a common goal. They intended to manifest an artifact known as the Holy Grail. Not in of itself the holy cup said to have been Christ's drinking vessel, but rather, an artifact with a connection to Akasha, the Root of All Things. A noosphere where all that is, was, and will be is recorded. It will grant a single wish to someone…but only one person. Thus, the Grail Wars were set up by those three families: the von Einzberns of Germany, the Makiris of Russia, and the Tohsakas of Japan."

That awoke a desire in Harry. "A single wish, given to the victor?"

"Aye. Seven Masters are chosen by the Grail to compete in each war, each in charge of seven Heroic Spirits known as Servants. These Heroic Spirits, under normal circumstances, are summoned from the Throne of Heroes, where the spirits of those noted to humanity reside," Arturia said. "Each belongs to a certain class."

"Is that what you meant when you called yourself Saber earlier?" Harry asked. "Because you wield a sword?"

"Aye. You were thought to be a Caster, a user of magic, one of the weaker classes, but skilled in shaping territory to their advantage. Lancers are wielders of spears, Archers use ranged attacks. Riders are those Heroic Spirits known for their mounts, steeds or vehicles and are counted amongst the most alacritous of Servants. Berserkers trade their sanity and reason for sheer strength and power. Finally, the Assassins use stealth and base tactics to slay their foes, often by targeting Masters. If a Master dies, the Servant will not last long, for we Servants are dependent on energy supplied from our Masters to remain in this world."

"And people die in this?"

"It is called a war, Harry," Arturia said. "People die in war. And for such a powerful wish, people are willing to kill. Would you not be willing?"

Harry pursed his lips. A second chance, a chance to correct the mistakes of the last nine years of his life…yes, he would be willing to kill. Or at least try to get to the top of the tree. It depended on his opponents.

As if sensing his thoughts, Arturia said, almost gently, "Your magic, and that of this world, are very different. Although magic is still hidden here, it is mostly a different form of magic, known as magecraft. I know not the full details: Merlin had mastered magic of many kinds, including that which is common on your world, and much of his explanation confused me. However, I have some small magic ability, of a similar ilk to you, in that we have cores that act as reservoirs of energy. Magi of this world, however, have Magic Circuits, to channel it, partly drawn from the natural energy of the world. And Magi…well, they are somewhat…amoral. Many would certainly not hesitate to kill or torture in the name of their research."

"Horrible," Harry muttered.

"I am heartened that you believe this to be so," Arturia said. "I only know the difference because I need to know of Heroic Spirits who are in the Throne of Heroes. You, I have heard, are one of them."

"I'm no hero. Just a stupid little boy who learned he was the messiah of Magical Britain, only to get royally reamed by life. My friends are dead, and the few survivors of my enemies chucked me through the Veil of Death."

"Succinct," Arturia said dryly, though not without sympathy. "However, you have been drawn into the Grail War. Whether you are a true Servant or not, it matters little."

"Oh, marvellous…"

* * *

Jubstacheit von Einzbern, usually known in his family as Old Man Acht, was not a pleasant man by any means. Well, he was a Magus after all. He was also paranoid up the wazoo, a very painful place to have paranoia. So when he heard that an unexpected person had ended up in the summoning circle meant to conjure up King Arthur, well, his first impulse was to consider killing him for having the impudence to breach so many Bounded Fields, which protected his castle and his family from enemies. His second impulse was to consider using the intruder as research material, that is, as an experimental subject.

Even so, he listened to Kiritsugu and Irisviel's account of what happened very closely. Acht was an intelligent and prudent man, and he could sense opportunity. It was, after all, the only reason he had tolerated Kiritsugu Emiya marrying the Homunculus who would become the Lesser Grail. After all, one did not reach an age he never disclosed to outsiders (but which could be measured in excess of a century, thanks to alchemy) by acting hastily.

After they had finished, the old man pondered what he was told. Eventually, he said, "While I am hesitant to do so, I want to consult with the one man who could confirm your Servant's words and the intruder's story."

Kiritsugu was no fool. He knew what was coming. "Zelretch?"

"Zelretch," Acht conceded reluctantly.

Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg. Better known by his peers (such as they were), victims (of which there were a great number), and Magi in general as Zelretch. Master of the Second True Magic, Kaleidoscope, involving travel to parallel worlds and alternate timelines. The Fourth Dead Apostle Ancestor (or a powerful master vampire, for those preferring less pretentious titles). And inveterate gadfly and prankster who had a bad habit of putting any apprentices he had through the wringer.

"I guess that means we'll have to contact Clock Tower," Kiritsugu said quietly, with the air of a prophet solemnly declaring the end of the world…

* * *

Arturia was good company, Harry reflected, for a warrior queen masquerading as a warrior king. True, she had this annoyingly Hermione-like tendency to chide him for bad language or manners, and a haughty air that Malfoys aspired to, and there was a slight detachment to her, a distance that Harry supposed was that between a monarch and a commoner. And yet, she certainly didn't mock him or demean him. If anything, it was the air of a commanding officer being nice to a soldier, or perhaps a distant mother trying to help a distressed child.

She also answered his questions quite readily, with no bragging or boasting. He decided to avoid some of the more painful parts of the Arthurian Myth (that he knew of, anyway: he didn't really know much about it), but asked about whether Guinevere knew about Arthur being Arturia. Apparently, Guinevere and Merlin were the only ones who knew…and Merlin turned Arturia into a man for a while to bed Guinevere, to produce heirs. This was apparently how Mordred was conceived: not with Guinevere, but apparently Arturia, when a man, produced viable seed, and Morgan le Fay used that seed to create a Homunculus that, like Arturia, was a male in history's page, but was actually a girl.

Arturia also told Harry about the nature of Servants. He had to wonder at the weird name they had for their special weapons and techniques. Noble Phantasms. Servants always had at least one, though Servants with multiple Noble Phantasms, like Arturia had, were not unheard of. She had Excalibur and Avalon, and the Invisible Air that concealed Excalibur's blade counted as one too. And, apparently, once Excalibur was charged in the right way, it could unleash a blast of energy of awe-inspiring power.

"Of course, we Servants can be identified readily by our Noble Phantasms," Arturia said. "That is why we are usually addressed by our class, so should you accompany us, please call me Saber in public. To identify myself too readily as King Arthur would be to also give enemies opportunity to devise countermeasures, and exploit weaknesses."

"Okay, I get that," Harry said. "I mean, let's face it, if you said you wield Excalibur, there's a fair chance you are Arthur. Arturia. Whatever. I'm still getting used to that."

"I dare say you would," Arturia observed dryly. "You do not think any less of me, knowing that I am a woman?"

"Of course not! If anything, I find it even more admirable," Harry said. He then looked down. "And you achieved more than I ever did in my life. All I got was a pyrrhic victory."

"Ah. So you are one of the unluckier iterations of Harry Potter."

The voice was deep and resonant, with an amused lilt to it. Harry whirled in his seat to find the maids letting someone by them, Kiritsugu and Irisviel accompanying him. The man was old, but indeterminately so, his hair and beard grey rather than white, framing a square face that seemed to smirk, his red eyes twinkling in amusement. Like Dumbledore's, only without pretence.

Arturia frowned. "Master? Why is there a Dead Apostle here?"

"Stand down, Saber," Kiritsugu said sternly. "Zelretch is…friendly. For a given value of friendly."

"A tactful way of putting it," Zelretch said with a chuckle. "I heard of this interesting case, and used Kaleidoscope to make it here posthaste."

"Dead Apostle?" Harry asked.

"In more mundane terms, I am a vampire, Harry Potter," Zelretch said with a smile. "I am also a Magus of considerable knowledge about parallel worlds. That is how I know of your existence. In this world, magic works very differently. Some of the magic you are capable of would be miraculous here, and some here would be considered impossible in your home worlds. I know of you because your life is…interesting. Why, one of your alternates became an adopted grandson of one of my alternates. And I can tell that you're one of the more interesting versions. I know that chief amongst your questions is 'Zelretch, can you get me home?' To which I must ask you one of my own: _do you want to?_ "

Harry's questions were forestalled by that. In truth, he didn't want to go back. Not yet. "Not without some means to change what happened."

"The Grail," Saber said, speaking the thoughts on everyone's minds.

"Maybe. I dunno."

Zelretch smiled. "Then I wish you the best of luck. I'll go and pay my respects to Old Man Acht."

"How?" Irisviel asked, concerned. After all, Zelretch tended to prank people whenever he 'paid his respects'.

Zelretch's smile merely widened. "Need to know basis. It was nice meeting you all."

As he left, Kiritsugu, shakily, took a cigarette and lit it. After a few seconds, it exploded, leaving Kiritsugu stunned. "By the way, those things will kill you!" Zelretch's voice echoed from outside the chamber, before laughing.

After a moment, Kiritsugu exhaled. "Iri, I'll leave this to you. I've got preparations to make." And with that, the man left the chapel.

"Sorry," Irisviel said with a smile. "I guess if Zelretch has given you the okay, you'll be accepted here. Welcome to von Einzbern Castle, both of you."

The greeting was warm enough, but Harry felt a chill go down his spine, knowing some intractable destiny had got a hold of him once more. Time would tell if that would lead anywhere good, though if past experience was any indication, it wouldn't be…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry's up to speed a bit more, and the von Einzberns will be, albeit reluctantly (save for Irisviel) allowing Harry to stay. We'll have a bit more of Kiritsugu and Irisviel interacting with Harry, along with Illya making an appearance.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	24. Lux in Tenebris Lucet (Original) Chap 1

_**Lux in Tenebris Lucet**_ **was my first foray into _FEAR_ fanfic, a crossover with Harry Potter. The original version went well, until a reviewer pointed out that it cheapened Harry's achievements. While this was far from the point of the story, I did go back, and look at the story, and reworked it significantly to become _Lux in Tenebris Lucet: Renovatur_. I eventually decided, having archived my abandoned Harry Potter fics in _The Cauldron_ , to do the same to the original version of _Lux in Tenebris Lucet_. People will notice that I reworked the opening scene for _Henry Ashford and the Goblet of Fire_.  
**

* * *

 ** _LUX IN TENEBRIS LUCET_ (ORIGINAL VERSION)**

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **THE FIFTH CHAMPION**

There were few people alive today who understood the true nature of the Goblet of Fire. Indeed, even amongst the Unspeakables, there were few. Of those currently present in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, only Albus Dumbledore could be said to have anywhere near that kind of understanding, and he would be the first to admit that his understanding of the Goblet's true nature was limited.

However, the Goblet of Fire was…intelligent. Aware, even.

It would be hard to define what sort of intelligence it was. Perhaps the closest analogy had only come around relatively recently. Magic often did things that, before the advent of the Industrial Revolution, would have been considered impossible. Flight, transport at astounding speeds, instant light without the need for firemaking, and more. But although they didn't call it such, the ancient wizards and witches all but created artificial intelligences and artificial sentiences. The famed Sorting Hat of Hogwarts was one such example.

The Goblet of Fire was perhaps not truly sentient, or even truly intelligent. But there was a basic awareness and intelligence within it. And it knew, on at least one level, that it had been tricked. It was unable to do anything, of course. The spell that had been cast on it prevented it from refusing to expelling the name it was going to be forced to expel.

But there was something it could do.

The name it was forced to accept was a name bound by fate to many people. But there was one whose binding was stronger than most. Not only that, but that name was associated with a being of such power, that if the Goblet was capable of feeling fear, it would be shivering. But it was incapable of feeling fear. It could see the darkness around this being, but it saw the light in the darkness, connected to the fourth name.

The Goblet made its decision. And having done so, it reached out with its magic…

* * *

Barty Crouch Junior fought hard to keep the smile off his face. It took every ounce of both his Occlumency training and his acting ability to keep up the appearance that he was Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody. But he knew that the first step to bringing back his lord and master, as well as bringing about the downfall of the Boy Who Lived, otherwise known as Harry Potter.

Barty had to admit, he was enjoying this role he was playing. He had once entertained ambitions of being an actor(1), before the disapproval of his father, amongst other factors, scuppered them. One of the biggest regrets in a life populated by them. But not now. He was serving his master, Lord Voldemort, and playing a key role in this long game that would bring his master back to his full powers.

To actually teach these students was surprisingly pleasing too. Perhaps being a teacher was a calling he should have considered. Yet another what-could-have-been he had to dismiss. But even so, teaching these children how to recognise and avoid the Unforgivable Curses held a strange satisfaction to it, even if one of his students was Harry Potter. But the boy was strong, and he could see why Voldemort viewed the boy with concern.

Of course, there were side-benefits. Demonstrating the Cruciatus curse in front of that near-Squib Longbottom had a perverse amusement. Barty hadn't participated as much as the Lestranges had in torturing the boy's parents, and to tell the truth, that had made him feel ill. He would use _Crucio_ on someone he truly hated, to be sure, like his father, and he would use it for interrogation. But the Lestranges just did it out of sheer sadistic enjoyment. Even so, seeing Longbottom's face after he had stopped using the Cruciatus curse was amusing. He was no Harry Potter. A weak near-Squib who seemed to prefer pottering around in gardens. Barty sneered inwardly.

But now, the stage was set, the players were in position, as were the props. And Barty was directing it. A strong _Confundus_ on the Goblet, along with a few other charms and spells, and it accepted the name of Harry Potter. He would become the fourth champion of the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

Barty smiled inwardly. He knew that this would isolate Harry. The Wizarding World was a fickle thing, liable to turn on its so-called heroes in an instant. Look at his own father: in the aftermath of Barty Junior's trial, and his apparent demise (and the actual demise of his mother), public opinion, once nearly sending him to the Minister of Magic, sucked him down like an unfortunate into quicksand. Of course, Muggles were no different. Barty, unlike many of his comrades in the Death Eaters, knew much about the Muggle world. He hated them all the same, along with the weak of the Wizarding World. Only the strong were fit to survive. And the Muggles, for all their technology, could be dealt with easily. After all, what good were nuclear weapons when you could use the Imperius curse on the ones who had the authority to launch them? Or an Obliviate? Or use Legilimency to determine the codes?

He looked at the occupants of the Great Hall, noting the more prominent ones. There was Potter and his friends at the table. The blood-traitor Ron Weasley, stuffing his face, and the Mudblood Hermione Granger, a precocious little bitch who nonetheless had quite a lot of intelligence. A shame she wasn't born to a Pureblood family. And then there were all the children of the cowards at the Slytherin table, led by Draco Malfoy. Blond ferret, he snickered.

And there were two cowards present in the Great Hall too. Karkaroff, the stool pigeon (to use the Muggle term) and Snape, who seemed to serve two masters. He had no doubt that Snape would run back to Voldemort once his master arose again, but Karkaroff would merely run away. Karkaroff certainly avoided him a lot, though that was due to the Polyjuice potion disguise of Mad-Eye Moody, the man who had arrested him in the first place.

And then there were the teachers. Some fools, others dangerous fools, and others, just dangerous. Voldemort had coached him on who to be especially careful with. And, of course, speaking of fools, there was his Imperiused father, and that idiot Bagman.

It was heartening to Barty that he was kept in the Dark Lord's confidence. He was one of the few Death Eaters who knew of Voldemort's true parentage(2). Barty accepted this with surprising ease: Voldemort's experience with being a Halfblood proved that relationships between Muggles and Magicals didn't work. And Voldemort was powerful anyway. And, of course, there was the shared experience of having a disappointing father.

Barty didn't truly buy into the whole blood purity thing. Rather, it was about power. _There is only power, and those too weak to seek it_ , his master had said on many an occasion. The power to bring the Magical World to the supremacy it so richly deserved, and to sweep away the detritus in the way. The Mudbloods, Halfbloods and blood-traitors, all would be put to use in the new order, or would be destroyed to make way for the new hierarchy, the true hierarchy.

He smiled inwardly again when the time arrived for the Goblet to begin spitting out names. That old fool Dumbledore caught the first parchment that wafted out. Viktor Krum was announced as the Champion for Durmstrang. Not surprising, given that he was a renowned Quidditch player, already playing for Bulgaria in the World Cup not so long ago.

The next name was that of the champion for Beauxbatons. It turned out to be that Veela half-breed, Fleur Delacour. Snooty little cow, he thought.

And then, the champion for Hogwarts. Cedric Diggory. A Hufflepuff, of all things. Then again, it didn't do well to dismiss them. Of course, he was, for the moment, irrelevant.

Now the time had come to play his part. He faked a look of surprise as the Goblet flared once more, while Dumbledore was in the middle of a speech, and spat out a parchment that the old fool caught, and read out the name.

"Harry Potter."

The reaction was interesting. Barty had been expecting instant pandemonium, but instead, it was more of a lower-key reaction at first, murmurings and whisperings amongst the various students. Harry was nudged by the Mudblood, as he was sitting, in a daze. He had not been expecting that. But then again, the others wouldn't give a damn. They'd think he was a glory hound regardless. The entirety of the Wizarding World had chronic allergies to thinking. He noted that Weasley was staring at his friend incredulously, even enviously.

Suddenly, Barty saw the Goblet flare red again. _What the hell was this?_ he thought. _I didn't want it to produce a fifth name. Shit, maybe I Confunded it too much_.

Dumbledore caught the parchment, and stared at it. Barty did so too. Unlike the parchment of the other entrants, this…looked different. Blood-stained, almost like skin flayed off a corpse. The writing was untidy, too, almost as if it had congealed rather than being written.

But the name on it was clear. And Dumbledore, uncertainly, said, "Alma Wade?"

 _Who the fuck is Alma Wade?_ Barty thought irritably.

Unfortunately for Barty, it was a question he was about to get answered very soon…

* * *

On the other side of the world, Harlan Wade was a very nervous man. After all, Project Origin was about to enter its next stage: impregnating the psychic forebear to create the prototype for a psychic test soldier. That, and the fact that said test subject was his own daughter. He had long since inured himself to the experimental procedures placed upon his daughter. He didn't even care that, as part of his genes were going to be part of the artificial zygote put into her, he was effectively committing incest by proxy. He wanted to be at the vanguard of psychic soldier creation.

Oh, he had some small part of him that refused to be silenced. A niggling part of him that was technically a conscience, but he could ignore that.

And it was Halloween, which had some people spooked. He was a little nervous because of that, but dismissed that as a vestige of superstition.

There was a camera feed from within the Vault that contained her, a large life-support tank that kept her alive, and in an induced coma. At least in theory. But on occasion, there were spikes of unusual activity. He looked at her, filled with both pity and revulsion. Her naked body had wasted away for the seven years she had been kept in the tank, tubes violating her body to bring her nutrients and remove her waste. Her mouth was open, breathing in the thick, drug-laden oxygenated liquid that sustained her existence, but kept her comatose.

She was now fifteen. And the time was now right to use her for their purposes.

Or at least that was the plan.

Suddenly, blue and red fire seemed to play around her body. Except…that shouldn't be possible within a liquid. Panic gripped Harlan Wade's heart. Were her powers awakening again? Had Alma somehow sensed their intent, and was trying to stop them?

It would have been little consolation to him to know that Alma had little to do with it. Because as Alma disappeared from the Vault, and her liquid-filled tomb, a blast of energy washed outward, devastating the Origin Facility and killing many of those within, including Harlan Wade.

Armacham would never really recover, at least as far as Project Origin was concerned. Which was, in the end, all for the better.

* * *

Harry Potter was stunned. It was already unbelievable enough that his name had come out of the Goblet of Fire. He had considered entering, yes, but to actually end up when he hadn't entered was another matter entirely. He felt acutely the gazes of everyone, particularly Ron, whom he could see the embers of envy smouldering. He had begun to talk towards the Great Table, where Dumbledore was waiting.

But then, the Goblet flared red again. _Another_ champion?! Maybe it was a symptom that the damned thing had gone haywire. He thought there was something wrong with the parchment that Dumbledore had caught. But he wasn't expecting the name Dumbledore hesitantly spoke.

"Alma Wade?"

Harry's eyes widened. _No! It can't be!_

Suddenly, on the floor in front of the Goblet, fire seemed to erupt. Like the fires of the Goblet, blue and red, with a strange, eye-tugging orange mixed in, rippling and warping around the area like water. A shape began to form, a human shape.

Then, the searing light faded, and someone was left on the floor of the Great Hall. A naked girl, perhaps fourteen or fifteen, with long black hair, emaciated, and skin as grey as a corpse. Tubing inserted intimately into her body oozed vile liquids, severed from whatever apparatus they had been connected to.

For a moment, she seemed dead. Then, she convulsed, liquid gushing from her mouth. She tried to inhale, only to choke out more liquid.

Dumbledore and Harry reached the girl almost simultaneously. Harry whipped off his outer robes and draped them over the girl. Dumbledore, meanwhile, carefully turned the girl onto her side, allowing her to cough up more of the liquid that had once sustained her.

In both of their eyes was recognition.

Already, the murmurs had started anew, mixed in with horror, disgust, and fear.

The girl finished coughing up the liquid. Then, her eyes flickered open. Few saw those eyes at the time. But few would forget them. Bright orange, glowing eerily. They shut again, squeezed in agony, before re-opening, and focusing on Harry.

The face was impassive, like a mask. But the eyes danced with something. Only Harry heard her speak, for she did so directly into his mind, as they had always done over the past seven years. _Harry…it is you. Why am I here?_

"I don't know, Alma," he said quietly. "But…I'm glad you're here."

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, here it is. The first chapter of a fanfic that is going to be pretty screwed up. But, I hope, in a good way.**

 **I didn't want to basically rewrite the chapter involving the Goblet spitting out names from Harry's point of view, so I decided to try something different. I dunno how many fanfics do it from Barty Crouch Junior's point of view, but I thought it'd be interesting to explore his motives, and fill in a few bits here and there. Although my portrayal of Crouch not buying into the blood purity nonsense is not necessarily canon, it'd be interesting to think how many Death Eaters didn't give a crap about blood purity, and acknowledged that it was all about power. It was partly because this Barty, I decided, knew about Voldemort's heritage.**

 **I also wrote in Barty's relative lack of sadism to reflect his behaviour in court. I don't doubt that sadists would have reacted the way he would have in court, but I got the feeling that, at times, Barty was more of a tag-along to the Lestranges. He's still a nasty piece of work, but the Lestranges, especially Bellatrix, are on a whole new level.**

 **I decided to have Alma appear during the Goblet of Fire simply because it's at a pivotal time in Harry's life. More than one fanfic begins here, I've noticed. I've also noticed that in some cases, the Goblet has extraordinary powers. I've read at least one fanfic where it snatches Harry from another dimension.**

 **Now, I'll address some possible timeline issues here. Alma was born in August 1979. The Goblet of Fire drawing is on the 31** **st** **of October 1994. Now, Alma is said to give birth to the Point Man when she is 15, so that technically means that she could have been impregnated while she was only 15 and a couple of months old (and thus give birth at 15 years and 11 months old). Actually, considering what horror she inflicts, artificially inseminating her on Halloween seems like Armacham were trying to be ironic, or else trying to ignore the irony. Of course, that's daring the universe to kick you in the nuts.**

 **Now, the story is going to jump around a bit in time. Alma has been a presence in Harry's life before Hogwarts, ever since she was put into the Vault. We will be seeing highlights of that time both in the next chapter, and future chapters. I'm considering between every second chapter being a flashback one.**

 **1\. Barty's imitation of Mad-Eye was so good, it fooled Dumbledore, an old friend of Moody's. I put this in as a partial explanation.**

 **2\. It's implied, though not stated, that Barty Crouch Junior knows that Voldemort is a Halfblood. The statements as mentioned in the book are still ambiguous, so Voldemort could have left that detail out, but here, I've confirmed it. Why would Voldemort divulge such a thing? Simple. Voldemort, for all his being a batshit crazy psychopath, is good at reading people. Helps if you're good at Legilimency, obviously. It's part of the reason why I wrote Barty as knowing more about Muggles, but holding them in contempt anyway. Barty respects Voldemort's power, and he's also treated as a favoured son by the Dark Lord, something he never got from his own father.**


	25. Lux in Tenebris Lucet (Original) Chap 2

**_LUX IN TENEBRIS LUCET_ (ORIGINAL VERSION)**

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **THE NOT-SO IMAGINARY FRIEND**

 _Halloween, 1987_.

Harry Potter, seven years old, was having a dream. He had had strange dreams before. One was of a flying motorcycle, and of a giant man driving it. Another, more of a nightmare, really, involved a woman's screams, a high-pitched laugh, and a strobe of green light.

This one was…strange. He didn't know what to make of it, only that it felt…real. Even more so than the dreams he thought were real. And yet, there was something so strange about it.

The landscape itself wasn't so strange. It was a hill, with a tree, and attached to that tree was a swing. But the landscape was suffused with an eerie orange light that pushed at the senses oppressively, like a sapping humidity turned into light. And the lone occupant of this realm was strange herself.

She was a girl about his age, or maybe a little older, dressed in a dark red dress, with shiny black hair hanging around her face. Her skin was pale, even grey, and she was still, unnaturally so.

He had frozen upon spotting her, instincts screaming at him somehow that she was dangerous, that she shouldn't be approached. But before he could leave, her face turned to him. Glowing orange eyes regarded him from a rather impassive, if pretty, face.

For a moment, they watched each other, before Harry broke the silence. "H-h-hello," he stammered.

Once more, silence reigned for perhaps too long. Then, he heard her speak, her voice hissing out of the air, echoing. _Who are you?_

"I-I-I'm Harry Potter," he stammered. Why was this girl so frightening? Why did she frighten him more than the Dursleys?

She regarded him for a moment more, before she got off the swing, and approached him, skipping lightly. It was a strangely normal bit of locomotion for the girl, and yet, it still unnerved Harry. She stopped in front of him, and peered at him. _Alma Wade_ , she said. Her lips didn't so much as move, and yet, her voice slid into his mind. Her voice was quiet and eerie, with a faint echo to it.

Without thinking, he blurted, "You're pretty."

Her scrutiny with those glowing orange eyes after he said that proved uncomfortable. She didn't even blink. It felt like she was a scientist, examining every detail of a rather unpromising biological specimen. Like every second of his life was on display to the girl in the red dress.

Eventually, the smallest of smiles appeared on her face, a fragile, almost shy thing. He would see many smiles on that face over the years to come, but this first one was the best. It meant that she was genuinely happy. It was rare, he would come to learn, that she smiled like this. Her life meant that she had little to smile about.

 _Do you want to play?_ she asked.

Timidly, Harry nodded. But in doing so, he got his first friend.

* * *

There was something about the boy, Alma thought to herself. Something about him that had called out to her in her imprisonment. For the longest time, she raged and ranted within the confines of her own mind. It had been two months since she was imprisoned in the Vault, but it felt more like two millennia. While technically she was unconscious, in reality, all that Armacham, that her _father_ had managed to do, was lock her up within her own mind. And she couldn't really do anything about it. At best, she could sense what was going on outside the Vault, dimly. Occasionally, she could enter the minds of others, but those only happened in flashes, and in any case, what she found in their minds disgusted her.

But by chance, her mind somehow connected to this boy's. Why was that? She would have to look into it further. In fact, he had approached her, entering her mindscape from his dreams. They must've connected already in some manner or other.

As was her customary procedure, she looked through his memories. And what she found disgusted her, but for different reasons. That these animals treated him like that…it reminded her somewhat of her own life, only Harry didn't fight back. He wasn't psychic, or at least not on the same level as she was. She did note the curious reactions his relatives had to the word magic. And they had called him freak. It had even been his name until school, and they told him his real name.

Alma Wade knew anger, and she knew hatred. The boy, while he did hate his relatives, and felt angry and bitter towards them, was more afraid of them than anything else. But there was something else that called out to her. The desire for a friend.

Alma didn't have friends during her experience. She didn't quite have the knack. Of course, being part of Project Origin scuppered that. And those scientists, looking upon her as an experimental subject at best, and at worst, a monster…oh, they _claimed_ otherwise, but their thoughts didn't lie.

Harry was frightened of her. They all had been, even the kids who were part of Project Origin. But he had blurted out that compliment. It was said in terror, but it was sincere. Only her mother had called her pretty with any sincerity, and she was dead.

Simple sincerity, albeit spoken out of fear, had gotten through to Alma where hollow praise and insincere encouragement hadn't. And she felt his desire for a friend, a desire she herself possessed, but had never acknowledged until now.

There was something else about him, though. Something that disturbed Alma, and there were few things that could truly disturb her. She could sense something dark, leeching off him. And it seemed centred around his scar…

* * *

 _Christmas Day, 1987_.

Christmas was a time for celebration, happiness, and overindulgence in the Dursley household. Unless, of course, your name happened to be Harry Potter, and the Dursleys never let him forget it. That being said, Harry was relieved that he was never made to cook the Christmas meal. Petunia didn't quite trust him to cook such a luscious feast, although whether that was doubt in Harry's cooking ability or fear that he would steal some of it, Harry didn't know.

He was given a token meal, and then sent back to his cupboard while they celebrated. Harry didn't mind. It meant he could meet Alma again.

She was still scary, but she began to be nicer to him. They played games in her mind, talked about their lives, or what they had of them. She still looked like some scary stringy-haired ghost girl, though, and she always spoke without moving her lips. But she was his only friend. It wasn't like Dudley could scare her away, or that the Dursleys could drip poisonous lies into her ear.

He found it all so fantastic. She was a psychic, and a powerful one. But one who had been experimented upon by Armacham. The name wasn't familiar to Harry, partly because he was a bit young to know about many corporations, and partly because Armacham didn't have much influence in the UK. But she was imprisoned, locked away like a princess in a tower, if said tower was a life-support tank with psychic insulation.

As bad as his life had been, it had been luxury compared to Alma's. Oh, Alma had been treated better for much of it, but she also knew that beneath the surface of those around her, they wanted her for her abilities, not because of who she was. What she did at times was…disturbing. But Harry knew that what they did to her made his internment in the cupboard under the stairs look tame. And Alma could hear the scientists' thoughts before then, looking at her like she was a monster.

But she also claimed that there was more to him. She couldn't quite understand it. It was like he was psychic too, and yet wasn't.

With that thought, he curled up on his mattress inside the cupboard, and went to sleep, looking forward to meeting his only friend…

* * *

She was playing on the swing when he got there, singing a song he had taught her.

 _Oranges and Lemons_

 _Say the bells of St Clement's_

 _You owe me three farthings_

 _Say the bells of St Martin's_

 _When will you pay me?_

 _Say the bells of Old Bailey_

 _When I get rich_

 _Say the bells of Shoreditch_

 _When will that be?_

 _Say the bells of Stepney_

 _I do not know_

 _Say the great bell of Bow_

 _Here comes a candle to light you to bed_

 _Here comes a chopper to chop off your head_.

There was something pretty eerie about the way she sang the song, the ethereal sound of her voice echoing around the hill. She sometimes whistled the tune, with it becoming both mournful and sinister(1). But the small smile she turned to him as he walked up the hill made up for it.

She hopped off the swing once it had slowed down, and she walked over to meet him. _Harry_ , she said, her lips never moving. _Merry Christmas_.

"Merry Christmas, Alma. You're happy today. Did your father let you out?"

Her eyes hardened for a brief moment, the glow becoming like a malevolent flame. Then, they softened again. _No. I was just happy to see you. To even be able to talk to a friend is enough of a present. But I would like to be out of the Vault_.

"Maybe one day I could go over there," Harry said. "Save you."

 _No. You can't. They have soldiers. They'd shoot you. I do not want my only friend to die_. Alma suddenly threw her arms around Harry, clinging to him like a limpet to a rock. Harry was only now getting used to her mercurial moods. She went from angry to fearful and needy so swiftly, it wasn't funny. Especially when you're the best friend of a psychic with powers approaching that of a deity. But she had been damaged by her life so far. Harry didn't truly understand psychology, but he did comprehend some things on one level. He was her friend, and he wanted to help her. The best he could do was play with her in her mind, talk to her, be there for her.

After a long, and somewhat awkward (in an endearing way) embrace, Alma broke it off, and then peered at Harry. Or rather, his scar. She had been scrutinising it ever since they first met. Eventually, she said, _Harry, I want to try something_.

"What do you mean?"

 _There is something…dark within your scar_.

"The one I got in the car crash?" Harry asked.

 _Yes. Though there is something about it. I do not think a car crash would imbue a scar with such darkness. It's almost like there's someone else in here with us, but not really. It's like a fragment of a person, or rather, of their mind. I thought that there was something strange about it_.

Harry's eyes widened. "I have…a fragment of a person in my scar?"

 _Yes. I will attempt to get it out. It will hurt, I think_.

Harry looked into Alma's orange eyes, and saw only concern there. Eventually, he nodded. "Okay, do it."

* * *

Vernon Dursley nearly choked on his roast turkey when the sounds of shrill screaming suddenly emanated from the cupboard where that freak was sleeping. Furious, he strode over to the cupboard, Petunia and Dudley in tow, and ripped open the door. "BOY!" he bellowed. "STOP THAT RACKET RIGHT NOW!"

Harry didn't heed him. If Vernon Dursley had any kind of consideration for the boy, he would have noticed that Harry seemed to be in the middle of a seizure, convulsing and spasming. Petunia noticed, and the minuscule amount of actual concern and empathy she had for her nephew surfaced from the sea of contempt and envy it was normally submerged in. "He's having a fit!" she shrieked.

"He'll stop having a fit once I'm done with him!" Vernon rarely beat his nephew, but when he did, it was brutal. He didn't care that his nephew was having a seizure. All that he cared about was that the boy had interrupted his meal and nearly made him choke.

But as he brought his meaty hands down on Harry's shaking shoulders, ready to yank him out of the cupboard and beat him to within an inch of his life, something happened.

Time seemed to stand still. The colours of the world became a strange, humid orange. And instead of Harry, there was a girl about the same age, wearing a red dress, and with stringy black hair framing her pale face. Her eyes were a diabolical orange, and they were glowing.

 _You will_ _ **not**_ _touch him!_ the girl said, speaking into his mind.

Suddenly, Vernon was flying through the air, an impressive feat considering his massive bulk. He crashed into a small table, breaking many of Petunia's knick-knacks to her utter horror. She saw that Vernon had been knocked unconscious. Worse, blood seemed to trickle from his nose. He was still alive, though. He was breathing.

As Petunia turned back to Harry, though, that was precisely what Harry stopped doing. Breathing, that is. There was a sudden choking gasp, and then he was still.

Petunia dithered briefly, before she ran for the phone, and dialled 999. Soon, she was ready to have Harry and Vernon taken to hospital. By the time she got back, however, Harry was breathing again. Ragged, agonised breaths, but he was breathing again.

He would be taken to hospital regardless. Unfortunately, his magic had hidden all signs of his abuse by the Dursleys over the years, so nobody noticed. He was subjected to various tests, but nothing that could be seen as a cause of epilepsy could be found. One doctor theorised that whatever gave him that scar could have caused the fit. He was right, but for the wrong reasons. He thought it was something as mundane as brain damage…

* * *

Within Alma's mindscape, Harry stared up at the orange sky from where he lay on the ground. That had to be the worst pain he had ever had the misfortune to experience in his life. In fact, if that was what dying felt like, it was highly overrated.

As if sensing his thoughts, Alma, who was sitting next to him, cradling what looked like a cloud of darkness, said, _You did die. For all of thirty seconds. I had to restart your heart psychically. But that was what removed the final anchors binding this to you_.

Harry, more than a little disturbed by the fact that he did die, even if it was only temporary, sat up and looked at Alma, and more importantly, the thing she cradled in her hands. "What is that?"

 _I am examining it. Like I thought, it is part of someone's mind. Or their soul. I don't know which. I can feel memories from it_. Her nose wrinkled in disgust. _Vile, unhappy things_. Her eyes widened. _But what is this? This man…if you can call him that…he was a wizard! And…I see memories…his last memories…killing two people. They're also wizards! One of them looks like you, and he was called James Potter._

"My father?"

 _I think so. Your mother…Lily…they were both murdered, Harry! That was no car crash! They were murdered by this wizard! He tries to murder you, only…he can't. Something bounces back…destroys him…and part of him ends up in you…the word Horcrux is in his memories…_

Harry stared into the distance. So it wasn't a car crash after all. His parents were murdered. And they had magic. His aunt and uncle had lied to him. So what did this mean?

"Voldemort…"

Harry whipped around to look at Alma. He realised something. In all their time together in her mindscape, he had never heard her speak like that. It sounded…normal. "Sorry, what?"

Her lips moved slowly, hesitantly, as she spoke. "His name…was Lord Voldemort."

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **The first flashback chapter, showing how Harry met Sally…I mean Alma. And already, she took out the Horcrux within him, though it nearly killed him. Oh, and Vernon Dursley gets the first instalment of some well-overdue karma. Heh heh heh…**

 **I originally wrote this chapter mentioning that the only decent relationship Alma had was with her sister. I then decided to check the F.E.A.R Wiki, only to find that Alice Wade never knew of Alma. It was only a sentence that needed snipping out, thankfully.**

 **1.** ** _Oranges and Lemons_** **is a nursery rhyme from the UK. I guess it's probably best known outside the UK for being a running theme in George Orwell's novel** ** _Nineteen Eighty-Four_** **. I was inspired to have Alma sing it by a** ** _Doctor Who_** **audio drama,** ** _Night Thoughts_** **by Edward Young, where a serial killer (who is very similar in many regards to Alma) whistles the song quite eerily. That, by the way, is a bloody brilliant and bloody scary story. Think** ** _Doctor Who_** **meets a particularly cerebral slasher flick, and you might know what it entails. You can buy it from the Big Finish website. Go look it up.** **I fully and wholeheartedly recommend it.**


	26. Lux in Tenebris Lucet (Original) Chap 3

**_LUX IN TENEBRIS LUCET_ (ORIGINAL VERSION)**

 **CHAPTER 3:**

 **THE GIRL OF DARKNESS**

 _The present day_ (1)

Alma's eyes fluttered open, only to shut once more as light seared her retinas. A hiss of pain wormed out of her lips. She ached all over. But she could also feel things, things she hadn't truly felt for a long time. The cool, soothing sensation of cloth against her bare skin. The smell of must and dust. To actually experience these sensations once more rather than rely on memory was…she didn't know what to think.

"It's alright, Miss Wade," came the soothing but authoritative voice of an older woman. "Easy does it."

Her eyes flickered open once more, and focused on a woman in a nurse's uniform. Concern was in the rather strict-looking woman's eyes. _Where…am I?_

The woman seemed somewhat surprised at her question, or rather, at how it came to her. Recovering her composure, she said, "You're in the hospital wing of Hogwarts."

 _Hogwarts? So…I'm really there._ She blinked, recognising the woman from Harry's memories. _You're Madam Pomfrey, aren't you?_

The woman nodded. "The Headmaster told me about you, what he knew of you, anyway. He said you were in some sort of Muggle contraption. I had to remove those damned tubes and stop the bleeding from the IV lines. I've seen Muggle medical apparatus before, but…what they did to you…" A sickened expression flashed briefly onto the woman's face.

Before Alma could reply, the door opened, and a man with sallow skin, a pointed face framed by lank, greasy black hair, and eyes as dark as night swept in. "I have the potion as requested, Madam Pomfrey," the man said in a resonant, if somewhat nasal tone.

Alma recognised him from Harry's memories too. Professor Severus Snape, the Potions Master, Head of Slytherin, and nasty bastard. Her eyes narrowed, as did Snape's when his gaze met hers. However, he did not say anything, and Alma was surprised to discover that she couldn't hear his thoughts, at least not easily. Perhaps that was a good thing: the perpetual susurration of people's thoughts was maddening. Instead, she said, to him, _What is that potion?_

Snape seemed to bite back a retort, before placing the vial next to her. "It is a very dangerous potion, for use in emergencies. As your muscles are severely wasted, they require a certain amount of regeneration. Growing bones back is easier and less hazardous, but muscles are another matter. Indeed, these potions are highly regulated. I believe Muggles have a similar, if far less effective drug known as anabolic steroids(2). This dose will be enough to bring your muscles back to a state where you may walk and perform simple physical tasks. And I believe it is quite…unpleasant to drink." A smirk twitched at the man's features. " _Very_ unpleasant."

With that, he swept out of the room, his robes billowing out behind him like the wings of a bat. The impressive and dramatic effect was somewhat ruined when the door suddenly swung shut on them, and a strangled squawk from behind the door was followed by a crash. Pomfrey hurried over, and opened the door, freeing Snape's robes and helping him to his feet. For a moment, he glared at Alma, who just stared back at him impassively. He then strode away. Only then did Alma allow a smirk to touch her features. After all, telekinesis did have its uses in pranks.

* * *

Snape was right about one thing: it _was_ unpleasant. Indeed, it felt like every inch of her body was on fire when she drank the potion. But she didn't scream, she didn't cry out, not even telepathically. She just gritted her teeth and endured the pain. Life without pain, after all, had no meaning. It was pain, after all, that brought moments of pleasure into sharp relief, and reminded one that you were still alive, and still mortal. Of course, she would prefer not to have to deal with it.

The process took place overnight, so when she woke up, aching and sore all over, Harry was sitting next to her. _…Harry?_ she asked. She realised someone else was sitting nearby, a girl with bushy brown hair and prominent teeth. _Hermione…_ she said quietly.

Hermione, who was currently reading a book, looked up at Alma speaking to her. "Oh, you're awake," Hermione said. There was an uneasy look in the girl's eyes, and her thoughts were filled with the sour smell of fear, but Hermione also knew that it was only thanks to Alma that she was still alive, and the troll that had nearly squashed her into strawberry jam had been turned into a rather messy skeleton. "How do you feel?"

 _Like a troll squashed me_ , Alma replied with a tired smile. She frowned when she looked around. _Where's Ron?_

Harry looked a bit...hurt when Alma mentioned Ron. And when she saw his thoughts, she understood why. Ron was unable to accept that Harry hadn't put his name in, and hadn't intended to, so they had something of a rift between them. Hermione believed Harry, but judging by the thoughts in their heads, there were few, save for the staff, who believed him.

"We came here to visit you, see if you were all right," Hermione said after they conversed over the Ron issue. "You look…better than you did last night."

 _Snape's doing. He gave me some sort of muscle regrowth potion…very painful_. Alma gingerly lifted her arm out from underneath the sheets. It was no longer the near-skeletal wreck it had been last night. Instead, it was normal. Slender, but she could move it without much effort. She waggled her fingers, and smiled. She reached over to Harry, and gently touched his cheek. For the first time, not counting Harry hurriedly helping her to the hospital wing, they had touched. He felt so warm on her cool skin. She gently brushed her fingers through his hair, and then did the same to Hermione's bushy locks.

Alma laughed, out loud. It was a hoarse, cracked thing, as her larynx had all but atrophied while she was in the Vault, her lungs filled with oxygenated liquid. But it was laughter nonetheless, though it degenerated into coughing soon after. _I can touch_ , she said, simple, juvenile wonder evident in her tone.

"But how did you get here, Alma?" Harry asked. "How did your name end up in the Goblet of Fire?"

 _I don't know_.

Hermione frowned. "There's not a lot known about magical artifacts like the Goblet of Fire. Maybe…it brought you here because you were connected to Harry. The parchment looked different to the others. I am speculating, of course."

 _It doesn't matter_ , Alma said. _I am here now. But…what is the Goblet of Fire? What is this Tri-Wizard Tournament?_

It took some explaining, but Alma was brought up to speed. The last time she had spoken to Harry, it had been in the aftermath of the Wizarding World Cup. Something had prevented her from speaking further, presumably what Armacham had done to her. They had stepped up their psychic insulation lately, and the few stray thoughts she caught from the workers suggested why.

 _…So, you're in this tournament now. As am I. And we have to undergo a series of tasks, or forfeit our magic?_

Harry nodded. "I'm not sure whether your psychic powers count, but…"

"Actually, they do," Madam Pomfrey said, walking over. "I cast some diagnostic spells over Miss Wade last night, and while it is somewhat strange, she does have a magical core. I have seen few like it before, really. A true psychic is really a natural user of Legilimency."

On Harry and Alma's puzzled look, Hermione supplied, helpfully, "The magical art of penetrating the mind of another. Occlumency, conversely, is defending one's mind against Legilimency."

"Well done, Miss Granger," Pomfrey said. "That is a basic summary of those arts. That being said, using Legilimency on another without permission is an offence. Many a wizard or witch who used Legilimency on the unwilling have gone to Azkaban."

 _I read thoughts automatically_ , Alma said. _I can go deeper, but I cannot switch it off._

"Legilimency, as most people put it, is actively penetrating the mind, where it can be used to cause damage. Dumbledore has vouched for you, Miss Wade, so I will trust you. But keep what I said in mind." The door opened, and Pomfrey muttered, "What fresh hell is this?"

It was, indeed, a fresh hell, in the form of two redheads. Fred and George Weasley, pranksters extraordinaire, and successors to the Marauder legacy. The number of people in Hogwarts who knew about Alma prior to her appearance in the Great Hall could probably be measured on the fingers and toes of a human's hands and feet. Fred and George were two of them. They had found out because Alma, occasionally, appeared next to Harry on the Marauder's Map, her presence in Harry's mind being enough for the Map to notice. In the aftermath of the troll incident on Halloween three years ago, they confronted Harry about it, along with Ron and Hermione.

Alma liked the twins, partly because she had an impish, prank-playing streak in her (although the pranks she played on the scientists examining her were somewhat darker than anything the twins would have contemplated), and partly because she was almost certain that they were (albeit weak) psychics themselves. On occasion, she helped them with a prank in the school, with the Perilous Potions Poltergeist earlier this year being their masterpiece after Snape forced Lupin to resign. She was probably the only person capable of telling which one was which, though it helped that she was psychic.

"At last, Forge," said Fred, "we meet our prankster-in-arms in person."

"Indeed, Gred," George replied. "We are not worthy to be in her presence."

Alma giggled. _Bow before me, unworthy mortals. Your goddess has come_.

Fred and George sank to their knees. Not out of any influence from Alma, or because they wanted to truly abase themselves. But they loved to play their parts in this little farce.

"Stop that at once!" Hermione snapped.

"Listen not to the infidel, O Alma," Fred said. "She does not see thy radiance."

"Guys, knock it off," Harry groaned. While he liked Fred and George's antics, he wasn't quite in the mood for them.

"Oh, come on, Harry," Fred said. "It's the greatest prank you've ever pulled, even better than our modest efforts."

"You manage to get your name in the Goblet of Fire, and you manage to bring your girlfriend along for the ride," George said. "That's classic!"

Then, they noticed the chill in the room. They noticed that Alma was not smiling any more. Instead, her glowing eyes were focused on the twins.

 _I would know if he put his name in the Goblet of Fire. I would know if he managed to bring me here himself. And I don't know whether I am his girlfriend. So I would suggest that you stop believing that idiocy about him putting it in there himself, before I tie your brains in on themselves. It's like being trapped in a cupboard with a Boggart, forever. I did that to a researcher once. She didn't like it(_ _3)_.

The twins quailed back from Alma's gaze. It was almost unheard-of that she had ever become angry with them. And yet, here she was, doing with a quiet telepathic voice what Molly Weasley usually had to use volume or a Howler to achieve.

 _Am I understood?_ Alma asked after an awkward silence.

"Perfectly!" Fred and George chorused, their eyes wide with understandable fear, and quaking in their robes. Then again, they had more sense than to piss off the powerful psychic.

"Alma, you didn't need to go that far," Harry chided.

 _Yes, I did_ , Alma responded. She then returned her attention to the twins. _We're still friends, aren't we?_

Fred and George looked at each other, then back at Alma. "Ummm…I hope so," George said.

"We _were_ hoping on getting your help with pranking Filch later," Fred added.

 _Good. I have something in mind for him. I call it Dope-on-a-Rope_ (4).

"Alma…can we please get back on track?" Hermione asked. "You've been selected as the Fifth Champion of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. There's already an uproar about Harry being selected, but you…well, with your looks, particularly your eyes, you look…"

Hermione trailed off, but Alma caught her meaning, even without intruding on her thoughts. _Dark. Or rather, evil. That is what they think_.

"Yes."

Alma's face became an impassive mask once more. Eventually, she said, _The darkness has been with me all my life. I spent half of it in darkness. That darkness has flowed into me, filled me,_ _become_ _me. But in that darkness, there was only one light_. Her orange eyes flickered over to Harry. _Just because I am dark, does not mean I will extinguish the light_.

"…Well, that was romantic," Fred remarked. He suddenly reeled, as if an invisible attacker had slapped him. He stared at Alma, who was smirking.

 _Psychic, remember? Just be thankful you didn't sing that song you're thinking so loudly_ (5).

The look on Fred's face was a sight to behold, and the tension drained away somewhat in the small circle of friends. Alma smiled when she thought of that. Friends. Yes, friends. She had friends. Actual friends…

 **CHAPTER 3 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Well, Alma is in the hospital wing, Harry is in the doghouse where most of Hogwarts is concerned, Snape is in Alma's bad books, and Fred and George are in plotting mode. Good times all-round.**

 **Snape does know something of Alma: at the very least, he witnessed her power during the events of** ** _The Prisoner of Azkaban_** **(or at least this story's equivalent), destroying a shitload of Dementors. He fears and hates her, in much the same way he does with Lupin, though he doesn't know of her collaboration with the Weasleys. But he only now knows her history thanks to Dumbledore. How does Dumbledore know? You'll find out later. Harry and Dumbledore are the two who knew her best prior to the events of** ** _The Goblet of Fire_** **, but as you may guess from what has been said so far, Ron, as well as the Weasley twins, know her. They have met a projection of her, as have Hermione. Draco Malfoy has met a projection too, but he doesn't know her, other than 'scary ghost girl who seems attached to Harry'. Remus and Sirius know too. Who else? Well, we'll see…**

 **1.** ** _The Goblet of Fire_** **is set in 1994/1995. Assume that this is November 1** **st** **, 1994 at this point. I'm not going to be always precise with dates, instead putting 'present day' for the events of** ** _The Goblet of Fire_** **.**

 **2\. I have no doubt that Snape is not as ignorant of Muggle things as his fellow Death Eaters are. In fact, I reckon, being a Halfblood, he knows more than a few Muggle drugs, hence his comment here. I wrote in this potion to explain how Alma can get up and walking again after so long in the tank (okay, she manages it even as a skeletal near-corpse in the games, but I wanted it to be other than psychic powers). I thought of it as having a not dissimilar time to work as Skele-Gro from** ** _The Chamber of Secrets_** **, and more painful at that.**

 **3\. This is the researcher from the** ** _F.E.A.R_** **prequel videos. I decided that this was her ultimate fate. Alma knows what a Boggart is because she was present during that lesson in** ** _The Prisoner of Azkaban_** **. Maybe I might write that scene later…**

 **4\. If you've ever played any** ** _Batman: Arkham_** **game, you'll know what I mean by this. If not, Batman can perch on a gargoyle, swoop down on an enemy who passes underneath, and hang them by their leg on rope. I called it 'dope on a rope', and I laughed when, in** ** _Batman: Arkham Origins_** **, one of Joker's thugs actually said (in a New Jersey accent, I think), "Lookit that! A dope on a rope!"**

 **5\. In case you're wondering, it's the 'sitting in the tree' song. Thankfully, the 'kissing' version.**


	27. Lux in Tenebris Lucet (Original) Chap 4

**_LUX IN TENEBRIS LUCET_ (ORIGINAL VERSION)**

 **CHAPTER 4:**

 **THE LETTER, THE WITCH, AND THE KNIGHT BUS**

 _July 1991_

Harry had been waiting for this day for a long time. He knew from Voldemort's admittedly fragmented memories that children of wizards and witches received Hogwarts letters when they turned eleven. Voldemort, actually, had been approached by Dumbledore when he was a child at an orphanage. From those memories, Harry and Alma knew that Voldemort's real name was Tom Marvolo Riddle, and that his nom de guerre was an anagram: Tom Marvolo Riddle became 'I am Lord Voldemort'. But Voldemort was also aware of how other wizarding children got into Hogwarts.

Of course, it meant having to endure Dudley swaggering about in his Smeltings uniform, wielding a cane. But the Dursleys and their predilections had become more tolerable over the past few years, since that Christmas Day in 1987. Not that much, as there was only so much they could change without Alma going beyond scaring them, and brainwashing them or killing them. Alma really wanted to try both of those, but Harry vetoed it. Scaring them and pranking them was one thing. But making like Voldemort and all but using the Imperius or Killing Curses was another.

That being said, things were more tolerable around 4 Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surrey. Harry now had the second bedroom that used to be used, basically, as the storeroom for Dudley's old toys. He was still used practically like a house elf, but to go from a cupboard underneath the stairs to a ratty bedroom was a step up. And Vernon didn't beat Harry any more, though if anything, his bluster was even worse.

Petunia had the strangest change come over her. She still had that contemptuous air to her, but there was something else, something vaguely indefinable. Concern? Curiosity? Anticipation? Harry had a mind to confront her about what really happened to his parents, but decided not to. He wasn't sure how his aunt would react.

He collected the mail every day that he could without fail, sorting through it quickly and covertly. And one day, he found what he was looking for. A letter with the distinctive wax seal, with an 'H' stamped on it.

He managed to stuff it into his pants before the Dursleys could spot him. He brought the mail in and left it on the table for his relatives to read. Vernon looked at the first one. As it turned out, it was a postcard from his sister, Marge. She was feeling ill, having eaten a rather bad whelk. Harry found it hard to give a damn: the evil bitch often demeaned Harry's parents when she was here, and also brought around, on occasion, vicious dogs. Like that bulldog, Ripper. Chased him up a tree after he trod on his paw by accident. Marge wouldn't call him off. So Alma decided to take matters into her own hands, and drove the dog mad. Well, more mad than he was. The upshot was, the dog was put down, and Marge walked with a limp to this day(1).

Harry had to wait until he was free from chores. He managed to get out of one lot by saying he needed to tidy his room, and Petunia bought that. So he quickly went to his room and hid his letter. He then tidied his room (it did need a bit of cleaning), before emerging to continue his chores. He was still annoyed they treated him like a house-elf, a live-in servant who was expected to jump when the Dursleys barked.

He did know some magic and things about magic from Voldemort's fragmented memories. But even so, he had to be careful. The memories were tainted by Voldemort's view of the world. And as much as Harry hated his relatives' abuse and the apathy of most adults in authority, he wasn't stupid. Not everyone was like this. And in any case, the Dursleys paled in comparison to Voldemort, or Harlan Wade for that matter.

And of course, there was the little matter of the Statute of Secrecy and the Underage Magic Monitoring Office.

All of which meant that Harry bided his time.

Eventually, when it was time for him to go to bed, he took the letter out. It was addressed in a scarily specific manner.

 _Mr H Potter,_

 _The Smallest Bedroom,_

 _4 Privet Drive,_

 _Little Whinging,_

 _Surrey_

He opened up the envelope, and read through it. An acceptance letter, and a book and equipment list. Voldemort's memories provided a location: London, Charing Cross Road. Diagon Alley.

But first, he needed to send his reply. The letter said 'we await your owl by no later than the 31st of July'. Owls carrying letters. Who knew? He didn't have an owl, but he would bet that one would be around somewhere for him to send a reply.

In his room, he took a pen and paper, and scribbled out a reply to this Deputy Headmistress. Then, he heard a soft tapping at the window. He opened it, and found an owl perched on the sill, looking at him expectantly.

"Do you want food?" Harry asked. "Or this?" He indicated the letter.

The owl bobbed its head, indicating the letter, and held out one of its feet. Harry handed it the letter, and said, "Take this to Hogwarts, please. To Professor McGonagall."

* * *

Professor McGonagall was tired when she got back to Hogwarts in the evening, having gone on several trips to Muggleborn family's homes to personally deliver letters to them and explain Hogwarts to them. She knew she would have to begin sorting through replies to the Hogwarts acceptance letters too, just to double check them before confirming the attendance of the students. She didn't want to do it, but she was obliged to do her duty.

So it was that, while making an attempt to whittle away the small mountain of reply letters, she was present when an owl swooped in with yet another reply. Her sigh of irritation when she caught the letter was swiftly silenced when she saw who it was from. She unfurled the letter, and began to read…

 _Dear Professor McGonagall,_

 _This is my reply to the letter you sent me earlier today. This is a short response as I don't want my relatives to know that I've got this letter. I don't know whether you know, but they throw a fit whenever they hear the word magic, so getting a letter from Hogwarts will anger them. They kept me in the dark about magic: only another source told me of some of that heritage, and it's a somewhat biased source. While I could in theory get to Diagon Alley myself, I don't have much money, and the Dursleys wouldn't surrender any to me easily. Do you know of any scholarship funds, or whether my parents left me anything? And if so, could you help me go to Diagon Alley?_

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Harry Potter_

 _I knew it!_ McGonagall thought. _I told Albus they were the worst kind of Muggles! Keeping Harry in the dark about magic is one thing, but getting angry over it?_

Even so, McGonagall was perturbed. What was this source that Harry mentioned? Why was it biased? Did a former Death Eater know where Harry lived? Normally they weren't great on subtlety, but was one trying to seduce Harry into the mindset of the blood purity bigots?

In the morning, she would find out…

* * *

Vernon was taking Dudley to Smeltings for the first time, so when there was a knock on the door, it was only Harry and Petunia in the house. Harry heard the knock, the door opening, a murmured conversation, and then Petunia screeching like a harpy (about freaks not being welcome here) before slamming the door shut. But by that time, Harry was out of his room, and was peering down from the landing at Petunia, who looked up at him.

Harry glared down at her, and then waved the Hogwarts letter he had taken out of the room with him. "I know," he said coldly, taking a leaf out of Alma's book of intimidation. "Car crash? They were _murdered_."

For a moment, Petunia seemed set on berating Harry, before with a resigned sneer, she re-opened the door. "He's waiting for you," she snapped at the woman who stepped in. "Go and take him."

"Harry?" asked the older woman, a rather stern-looking one dressed in a somewhat old-fashioned dress. Clearly she couldn't go out looking like a witch with the pointed hat.

"I'm here," Harry said, walking down the stairs. He noted the older woman taking in his clothes: Dudley's hand-me-downs. "Professor McGonagall, I presume?"

The older woman nodded. "Indeed I am, Mr Potter. I got your letter."

Harry nodded in return, but as he made to follow her, he then turned to favour his aunt with a look. Petunia glared back. But it was she who blinked first. "Murdered, _not_ drunk drivers," Harry said coldly. Then, he left with McGonagall…

* * *

The first real taste Harry got of the magical world was when McGonagall held out her wand. With an ear-shattering **_BANG!_** (though Harry would later learn that unless people were in close proximity to it, they couldn't hear it, and Muggles, unless they were attuned to the magical world, saw only a normal bus when it was at rest), a large, violet bus appeared. Triple-decker, of all things. A conductor dressed in a purple uniform strode out, a teenager with pimples and large ears. "Welcome to the Knight Bus, the…oh, hello Professor. Showin' another Muggleborn how to ride the Knight Bus?"

"Indeed, Mr Shunpike. How much is it to get to the Leaky Cauldron?"

"From 'ere? A galleon and five sickles(2), but…"

"We don't need refreshments yet, Mr Shunpike," McGonagall said. "But thank you for the offer." She counted out a gold coin and five silver coins to the conductor, and then helped Harry on board. She led him quickly to a seat, and then had him sit down, and hold on tight. He soon learned why.

As the bus screamed at ridiculous speed along streets, across fields, through traffic it shouldn't normally be able to get through (though magic was a great help), McGonagall explained (well, all but shouted over the sound of the bus travelling), "There are many methods of transport in the Wizarding World. We could have Apparated there, which is…"

"Like teleportation," Harry replied. "Like transmats in _Doctor Who_.(3)"

McGonagall didn't know what a transmat was, but she had heard of the Muggle television series. "Indeed. But it is very dangerous, and requires that you get a licence."

Harry reflected on one of the times his magic erupted, and he ended up perched on the roof of the school to get away from Dudley and his gang. He seemed to get there instantly. Voldemort's memories suggested Apparition was the case. He was lucky not to get splinched, that is, to leave behind body parts.

"Then, there are broomsticks, and portkeys. However, given that we must remain secret from Muggles, underage magic in Muggle areas is forbidden save for absolute emergencies. Technically, that includes all magical children, but magical families are given more slack. So the Knight Bus is probably your best option if you wish to travel to any place you need to. You'll need to make sure you have the money on hand." She explained the money of the Wizarding World to Harry, who knew it already thanks to Voldemort's memories. But he appreciated McGonagall's explanation.

* * *

The Knight Bus let them off in London, near a dingy pub called The Leaky Cauldron. "Charmed to cause Muggles not to notice it," McGonagall explained redundantly. "Now, please refrain from giving your name, Harry. Did you know you were famous in our world?"

This was actually new to Harry. "No, Professor."

"I will tell you the details later. It's a good thing that scar has faded somewhat(4). It's the most famous thing about you…"

What followed was a series of events that felt almost like _déjà vu_ , for Harry had experienced something like it through Voldemort's fragmented memories. First, the trip through the Leaky Cauldron, where Professor McGonagall changed into her normal clothes, transfiguring them until she looked very much like the witch she was. Then, the wonder and splendour of Diagon Alley. Even having seen it before through Voldemort's memories, Harry believed that the real thing was better. All the sights and sounds. Alma was sleeping at the moment, or at least wasn't connected to his mind, and he would have to show her later.

First, Gringotts', and Harry's money. The bank was magnificent, though the goblins, and their poems, were intimidating. Harry decided that it wasn't a good idea to piss them off. Once his key had been presented to a teller, they were sent, with a goblin escort, to his vault. The ride through the tunnels on the cart was thrilling, and McGonagall was able to answer his question about stalactites and stalagmites.

He stared at the money within the vault, and asked a few pertinent questions of the goblin who accompanied them, Griphook. The vault was a trust vault to be used for his education, and as it turned out, there was another one, for when he finally came of age. Harry smiled to himself. The Dursleys used to complain that he stole food from their mouths, that he was a financial burden. Then, a scowl settled over his features. Perhaps whoever had left him with the Dursleys had paid them to look after him. And they _still_ treated him like garbage.

After filling a bag with money, he was ready for a shopping spree. McGonagall guided him to Madam Malkin's first for his uniform, and then he was taken to get a trunk and writing equipment. He had wondered about ballpoint pens to McGonagall, who said that while taking notes with the Muggle instruments was not forbidden, it would make him a target by the blood purists. More than he already was. Homework and essays, however, was strictly parchment and quill pens.

After that, it was on to Flourish and Blott's, where he eagerly bought not only his textbooks, but also a few other books. He remembered something from Voldemort's memories, and picked up a copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ , to McGonagall's approval. Quietly, she suggested that he study his Potions text, given that the teacher, Professor Snape, liked to test unwary pupils on their knowledge.

Snape…another memory from Voldemort, and one that Harry didn't like. He kept his expression blank while he paid for the books. Then, it was on to getting Potions supplies. Then, Harry was brought into Ollivander's, where he made the acquaintance of the rather creepy, if relatively benign, Garrick Ollivander, wandmaker extraordinaire. He was the only shopkeeper who seemed to recognise Harry. He waxed lyrical about his parents' wands, moving closer.

"I'm sorry to say," he said, peering at Harry's fading scar with his silvery, pale eyes, "I sold the wand that did it. Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Powerful, very powerful, and in the wrong hands…"

"You mean…Voldemort?" Harry asked. Ollivander recoiled, and McGonagall flinched. "Sorry, sorry," Harry said. Voldemort's memories included how he put a Taboo spell on his assumed name during the final years of his reign of terror. Even now, he was spoken of in whispered euphemisms by most wizards.

What followed was a strange series of events. Ollivander measuring Harry with magical measuring tape, then having him try a number of wands, for a time that seemed to drag out. Eventually, he brought Harry one last wand. "Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, quite supple."

And that was the one. Instead of causing chaos and destruction in the shop (a mess that Ollivander seemed only mildly annoyed by), a stream of red and orange and golden sparks wafted out. Both Ollivander and McGonagall looked pleased, but there was also something else on Ollivander's mind. "Curious," he murmured. "How very curious…"

"What is?" Harry asked.

"I remember every wand that is sold in my store, Mr Potter," Ollivander said, fixing him with his pale stare. "Every single wand. The phoenix whose tail feather currently resides in your wand gave one other, just one. It is curious that you have this wand, when its brother _gave you your scar_."

Harry stared at the wand in his hand. Ollivander said, "I think we can expect great things from you, Mr Potter. The wand chooses the wizard. And You-Know-Who did great things. Terrible things, but great."

"Thank you, Mr Ollivander," McGonagall said, clearly unnerved.

Harry paid the man, and left hurriedly in McGonagall's company. "I think we will have some lunch," McGonagall said. "And then, I should tell you what you need to know…"

 **CHAPTER 4 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Sorry to fast-forward through the whole Diagon Alley thing, I didn't want to write the whole thing. I decided that the main reason Hagrid was sent to fetch Harry was because of the lack of replies to the Hogwarts letters (and Dumbledore suspected the Dursleys might get violent with a representative of the Wizarding World). But as McGonagall actually got a reply from Harry, she came, and thankfully during a time when Vernon was out. Dumbledore okayed it, but presumably warned her to be careful around the Dursleys. In this story, Dumbledore is a decent person, if a bit too utilitarian for his own good, as well as others. He sees the bigger picture too much.**

 **Now, as for Harry and Alma having the memories of Voldemort, they have fragments of memories. Enough to know some things, but they don't know, say, where all the Horcruxes are. They know of the Ravenclaw Diadem and the Gaunt Ring, but the Diary, the Hufflepuff Cup, and the Slytherin Locket aren't in the fragmented memories. They do know how many he made, though. They don't know about Peter Pettigrew, either.**

 **Unfortunately, knowing Voldemort's memories is going to bite them in the arse, especially where Snape is concerned: Harry knows that Snape blabbed about the prophecy, and thus led to the death of his parents. So Harry's relationship with Snape will be somewhat tense. That being said, having Voldemort's memories does not mean Harry will be a darker person. He recognises this person as the one who murdered his parents, and so takes Voldemort's opinion about things with a bowlful of salt.**

 **Sorry for any Alma fans who want to see more of her. She isn't continually connected to Harry's mind, and they usually meet while he's dreaming. More Alma in the next chapter, though. I hope…**

 **1\. Aunt Marge deserves some karmic payback. Given that the whole 'Ripper chases Harry up a tree' thing happened when he was ten, after he met Alma, I thought Alma controlling Ripper and having him savage Marge's leg was a decent bit of payback.**

 **2\. I originally wrote '22 sickles', given the price in** ** _The Prisoner of Azkaban_** **, instead of the price given in the scene in** ** _Champion_** **(written by White Angel of Auralon), before I consulted the whole galleons to sickles to knuts exchange rate, and found it correct. In** ** _The Best Revenge_** **, Snape uses Apparition to take Harry to Diagon Alley, and McGonagall does the same in** ** _Hand-Delivered Letter_** **(by the dork knight), while in** ** _Champion_** **, McGonagall uses the Knight Bus. I would like to think that McGonagall, given that she has to teach Muggleborn students about the basics of the Wizarding World, would teach Harry (who may be ignorant) about the Knight Bus. That way, he can get into the Wizarding World. McGonagall may not have as much time for her students as she should when she's actually teaching, but I like to think that she actually gives a damn.**

 **3\. I decided that Harry managed to sneak watching an episode of** ** _Doctor Who_** **one night, while the Dursleys were eating out at a restaurant. In fact, I have the episode in mind: episode one of** ** _Remembrance of the Daleks_** **, which features a transmat at the end, as well as the Doctor sabotaging it. It was transmitted on October 5, 1988.**

 **4\. The first hint that the Horcrux removal has worked.**


	28. Lux in Tenebris Lucet (Original) Chap 5

**_LUX IN TENEBRIS LUCET_ (ORIGINAL VERSION)**

 **CHAPTER 5:**

 **JEALOUS REDHEADS AND KINDRED SPIRITS**

 _The present day…_

After a final examination, Madam Pomfrey reluctantly allowed Alma to leave the hospital wing, with Hermione donating one of her uniforms to wear. Alma was a bit taller than Hermione, but it fit well enough. Like an honour guard, Harry, Hermione, and the Weasley twins escorted Alma through the corridors of Hogwarts. It was now time for lunch.

Walking came back surprisingly easy to Alma. After a brief moment of staggering on her feet, she managed to walk again quite well. As she walked down the corridors of Hogwarts, she watched the moving portraits as they watched her, whispering and staring. Their scrutiny burned, but she felt more interested in seeing the sights of Hogwarts with her own eyes, rather than through Harry's.

She whistled _Oranges and Lemons_ as they walked down the corridors. The eerie sound wafted down the corridor ahead of the strange quintet.

Eventually, they got to the Great Hall, where most of the other students were already seated and eating. Conversations stopped when they arrived, and Alma felt the stares of the students acutely. But one pair of eyes had something else behind them. She felt that stare, that scrutiny, more than any other. She saw a pair of grey eyes beneath a mane of dirty-blonde hair at the Ravenclaw table.

Dumbledore, noticing their arrival, beckoned them over, particularly Alma. As conversations resumed, Dumbledore leaned forward, and asked, quietly, "How are you, my dear girl?"

 _Better than I have been for a long time, Professor_ , she said. _I want to talk to you about…the Hunt, later. But not here, obviously_. Only Harry heard that bit about the Hunt, and only because he knew what it meant. _I will sit with my friends, if you do not mind. I haven't been Sorted, of course, not officially_.

Dumbledore smiled, and his eyes twinkled in that way that the old man probably had a patent for. Harry, Alma, and Dumbledore all knew that Alma did get an unofficial Sorting, of sorts, when Harry himself was Sorted. Anyone who saw Alma, but didn't know her very well, would have pegged her for Slytherin. How amazed they would be if they learned that she was actually, albeit unofficially, a Hufflepuff(1)!

Alma and her little entourage sat at the Gryffindor table. The smells of all those foods tugged at her appetite, considering that she hadn't actually eaten anything for years. Her stomach had been filled with the life-support liquid, and necessary nutrients had been provided by IV line, with the waste disposal tubing provided to deal with the waste product of semi-digested oxygenated liquid. Armacham gave her the bare minimum of nutrients to stay alive.

One thing that did hamper her appetite was the sight of Ronald Weasley stuffing himself with food, as usual. He had appalling table manners, and while Alma wasn't one to stand on convention, that was just plain disgusting. He looked up and said, through a mouthful of food, "What're you doing here?"

 _Sitting with my friends_ , Alma said pointedly. _And you_.

Ron frowned. "Of course, because you're a Champion, you're looking down on me."

 _No. I'm looking down on you because you're a jealous idiot who thinks Harry wants to risk his life for fame he already has and fortune he doesn't need_. Alma clapped slowly. _Well done, Ron. Well done. I mean, I thought you couldn't do anything less stupid after making Hermione cry in first year, or that Parseltongue crap in second year, and don't get me started on that mess with the Firebolt Harry was sent last year. Clearly, you suffer from an allergy to thinking, like all the magical world_.

Ron stood, glowering at Alma. "Better that than to associate with something dark like you." But as he made to walk away, he yelped as he began to fly into the air. "Let me down!"

 _In a moment. This is called a practical demonstration_ , Alma said.

"Alma…" Harry said warningly. Ron was being a prat, but he didn't want to see Alma hurt him.

 _He won't be harmed_.

With that, Alma walked to the centre of the Great Hall. Some of the students, particularly the Slytherins, were laughing at Ron's plight. Others were staring at Alma in awe and fear. "Miss Wade, I must insist that…" Dumbledore began.

 _Hush. This won't take long_. She then looked at the gathered students of Hogwarts, as well as the delegations from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. Her voice echoed in their minds. _This is a warning_ , she said. _Neither Harry nor myself put our names into the Goblet of Fire. If you believe that, then you are bigger idiots than I have thought. We are bound to this competition, obliged to do it, but we do not want to. And if Harry or myself come under fire for something we didn't do, then you will_ _ **wish**_ _for what I am doing to Ronald Weasley_.

She then turned to the teachers at the Great Table, the two guest headmasters, as well as the Tournament officials: Ludo Bagman, Barty Crouch Senior, and Percy Weasley. All of those present were staring at her in various shades of fear, horror, and hatred. _I know one of you put Harry's name into the Goblet. I will hunt down the culprit. I will show them Hell first-hand. And I will take. My. Time_ (2).

She saw, just for a moment, the faintest of flickers in one of those present. She looked into their mind, and saw confirmation.

"Miss Wade, I must insist that you let Mr Weasley down!" Dumbledore commanded.

Alma looked to him. In the eyes of others, they would have thought the impassive expression to be contemptuous. But of those present, only Dumbledore actually had a chance of fighting off Alma Wade, and she knew it. With a thought, she let Ron drop. Inches before the floor, she held him again, before letting him drop the rest of the way. It was painful, but the worst injuries was to his pride.

"Detention, Miss Wade. You cannot attack and humiliate students in this manner!" Dumbledore said.

 _Says the man who allows Malfoy to run amok and do the same_ , Alma replied, favouring him with a glare. She then left. However, a few pieces of food rose from the tables, and drifted her way, following her like large mosquitos and flies. She hadn't lost her appetite completely after all…

* * *

Alma had decided to eat out on the shores of the Black Lake. The sunlight hurt her eyes, but she dealt with it. It was the first time she had ever been out in sunlight for years, after all. The food orbited around her lazily, while she began to bite into a chicken drumstick.

She sensed the others coming not long after. She sighed. She could hear the lecture buzzing around Hermione's mind. _Don't bother,_ she sent back to Hermione. _I want to have lunch, not a lecture_.

"Alma, you humiliated Ron in front of the whole school, you threatened them with worse, and you threatened torture and possible to an adult. Are you trying to turn the whole Wizarding World against you?"

"They'd be against me anyway," Alma rasped out loud. This got their attention. The four of them waited for her to continue. "Look at me. With the grey skin and orange eyes…they already think I'm the next Voldemort, or worse. And Ron…he said it was better not to think than associate with something dark like me. Some ** _thing_**. Not some ** _one_**." She hurled the chicken bone as hard as she could, telekinesis lending it wings, so it splashed into the middle of the Black Lake. "I melted a troll for him, stopped Lockhart from obliviating him, stopped Dementors from supping on his soul…and for what?"

She plucked a bread roll from the food orbiting her head and bit into it. _He doesn't see me as a person. How can I change that? I could force him to, but what's the point? That would just alienate the rest of you. People like that don't change. They just reveal what was beneath the surface all the time._

"Now, that's not true," Fred said.

"Ron may be a jealous prat…" George concurred.

"…But he's also a good guy."

"The best chess player amongst the students…"

"A damn good Quidditch player when he puts his mind to it…"

"And when he doesn't let his feelings get in the way…"

"He's loyal to the end!" the twins chorused.

"Give him time," Fred said. "He'll come around."

"Once the Wrackspurts infesting him have gone," said a rather dreamy, ethereal voice. Alma's eyes widened. She hadn't sensed the person coming up behind her. And everyone else jumped.

"Whoa! Luna! You scared us!" George yelped.

"That's the Phobophilix filling you with fear," said the girl behind them. "You should try and relax."

Alma stared. This was the girl she had noted at the Ravenclaw table, with dirty-blonde hair and grey eyes that seemed to stare. There was something vaguely ethereal about the girl. Alma may have seen her once or twice at most before.

"Fred, George," Harry asked, "who is this?"

"Luna Lovegood. She lives near the Burrow with her father. She's friends with Ginny," George said.

"The other kids call her Loony. Ginny's the only one who does so as an affectionate nickname," Fred added.

"And yes, it makes me happy I'm so strange(3)." This near non-sequitur from Luna, spoken in a weird, almost singing voice, drew her more looks. She skipped over to Alma, and peered into the older girl's eyes. Luna's were wide and unblinking.

 _You're like me, aren't you?_

Luna's voice entered her head, and Alma's eyes widened. _You're a psychic too?_

 _Yes. I knew it when you arrived. A psychic is different, even from a magical person who can use Legilimency and Occlumency. It is built into us. We see and hear and feel things others don't. And I could feel your aura. You have to be careful of Nargles, though_.

Alma blinked. _I'm…not sure what they are._

 _You'll know them when you see them_ , Luna said with a smile.

* * *

"So…you're like Alma? A psychic?" Hermione asked.

Luna nodded, smiling. "So was my mother." At this, her face fell. "Unfortunately, she died while trying to use her powers in advanced spellcrafting. I saw it happen. That is why I can see the Thestrals pulling the carriages."

"But they _are_ horseless…" Hermione frowned.

"Thestrals?" Fred asked. "Nah, they're real. They're supposed to be winged carnivorous horses who can only be seen by those who've seen someone die. We once talked to Hagrid about them."

"Carnivorous?" Harry asked, a bit nervous.

"Yeah, but they're peaceful enough, they're not dangerous. Hell, on the Hagrid Hazardous Animals Scale, they rank a two at best. Just creepy."

 _My sort of horse_ , Alma said with a rather sinister smile. She realised that someone was approaching. Someone who felt very familiar. Someone who was, for the moment, unwelcome. Sighing with irritation, she said, _I'm curious as to how you can assign me a detention when I am not a student at your school, Dumbledore_.

"I have the authority with visiting students, as long as it is cleared by their headmaster. However, you are something of a special case," Dumbledore said.

 _Indeed. I'm also curious as to how you think you can make me attend a detention. You have seen my power, and my memories. Armacham barely caged me. How can you?_

"With extreme difficulty, Miss Wade. But…I know you struggle on the path you walk. I want to help keep you on the twilit road to dawn you travel down(4). I don't want to lose more to the darkness. Even twilight is better than the dark. I want to help, Alma. Can't you see it in my mind?"

She could. He had let down the barriers, and the old fool did want to help her. He was so insufferably well-meaning. And he was sincere.

But old men accumulate many mistakes in their lifetimes. She knew this all too well from both Dumbledore's memories, and Voldemort's.

She knew why he didn't go so hard after Malfoy or other bullies. Once, he had a more _laissez faire_ attitude to some bullying. But the Marauders' antics helped swell the ranks of the Death Eaters, the very same Death Eaters whose children had become bullies. And many of said Death Eaters were men of influence and power, like Lucius Malfoy. They had already managed to get Dumbledore removed from his position once, during the second Chamber of Secrets fiasco.

Dumbledore had to walk a fine line between trying to keep his position, and making sure his students were safe, as well as encouraging playful behaviour, including the pranks of the Weasleys. The fact that Snape, once a bullying victim himself, now used the system to the utmost advantage for himself and his Slytherins didn't help matters, and Dumbledore's control of the man only went so far. It was well-meant, but it also meant that the situation at Hogwarts was a mess. The system was abused and gamed, and replacing it with something better would only serve to ensure that Dumbledore was evicted, and probably replaced with someone worse.

Alma could see in Dumbledore's mind that already, the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, was beginning to have doubts about Dumbledore's motives. Fudge believed that Dumbledore was unhappy with his current positions in life. Which was, perversely, the truth: Dumbledore had never asked for his positions as Supreme Mugwump of the ICW, and the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. The only reasons he kept these positions were to try and make sure that the Pureblood bigots didn't get their way, or at least not as often as they wanted to. And even then, he was uneasy at having so much power.

Alma was not, not with her power. She felt perfectly at ease using her own, more immediate power. Or at least so she told herself.

"Come along, Alma. I believe Hagrid wishes to make your acquaintance," the old man said, as kindly as he could manage. After all, it was with Hagrid, according to his thoughts, that Alma was going to take detention with. "And come along, everyone, if you wish to lend Alma your support."

The quintet of students, now a sextet, followed Dumbledore away from the shores of the Black Lake. But as they walked, Alma spoke, quietly, to Dumbledore only. _I know who put the parchment with Harry's name on it_.

Although Dumbledore couldn't actually use telepathy, he was able to speak with his thoughts so that Alma, with her link, could hear him. _Then, my dear girl, tell me_.

 _The one with the magical eye. You called him Mad-Eye Moody. But that is not who he is. He is an impostor. He means Harry harm. I only caught a glimpse of his thoughts. But I did not threaten him idly. I_ _ **will**_ _take his mind apart, piece by piece and learn what he is up to. Only then, when his mind is in...ashes…then he'll have my permission to die(_ _5)_ _…_

 **CHAPTER 5 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Well, Alma threatens Hogwarts! And it looks like she may have made the rift between Ron and Harry even worse. To be fair, though, she is a girl with the powers of a god and violent impulse. As far as Alma is concerned, floating Ron around is tame compared to what she could have done to him. Harry doesn't like it, but Ron did say some rather thoughtless things, and to Alma, of all people. That's just stupid. Harry will want to try and patch things up with Ron, though. But it may be a while before Ron is in a contrite mood…**

 **That little bit about Alma thinking about Dumbledore's flaws regarding bullying at Hogwarts is basically my rebuttal to the admittedly good points raised by some Dumbledore-bashers. It's not to say he has good reasons for allowing the BS to go on, but they're understandable reasons. The Dumbledores of my fanfics (two to date) are well-meaning but, too often, ineffectual. However, when push comes to shove, they are decent people who just need to be reminded to look at something other than the Greater Good.**

 **I thought of Luna being psychic shortly before starting this chapter. It works so well with her weird personality and strange non-sequiturs. So Alma has made another friend at Hogwarts. She's going to need as many as she can get.**

 **1\. I thought about what House Alma would be in. The canon Alma is really so alien and weird, I don't know what she'd be sorted into (and anyone who says 'Slytherin' because she's 'evil' should think very carefully about why). But this Alma has two traits: she desires knowledge (partially because of her incarceration in the Vault), and she is extremely loyal to Harry, who is her first friend. Because of her extreme loyalty to Harry (not to mention her tenacity: remember, in canon, it took her body** ** _six days to die_** **after life support was shut off, and her mind and soul remained alive regardless) I dunno whether I will write the Sorting, but I can imagine the Sorting Hat was understandably freaked out by Alma, but Sorted her nonetheless as a challenge to itself.**

 **2\. I pinched this line from Hyde's similar threat in episode three of** ** _Jekyll_** **. Alma, however, is not as flamboyant as Hyde.**

 **3\. This is a reference to** ** _The End is the Beginning is the End_** **. That's a song by the Smashing Pumpkins, one of the few good elements of the execrable** ** _Batman and Robin_** **. It's one of my favourite songs, and has a wonderful line that I couldn't resist Luna responding to:** ** _Does it make you happy you're so strange?_** **The song, funnily enough, is about Batman, despite the weird lyrics. Of course, the song was released nearly three years after this scene, but hey, this is Luna we're talking about. I wouldn't be surprised if she's like Deadpool and can break the fourth wall. It would explain so much…**

 **4\. Another reference, this time to the** ** _Kingdom Hearts_** **series. At the end of** ** _Chain of Memories_** **, Riku is asked to choose between three roads by DiZ. DiZ indicates one road going to light, and the other to darkness. Riku chooses the third, middle road. DiZ asks whether it's the twilight road to darkness, but Riku responds that it's the road to dawn.**

 **5\. Yes. I couldn't resist a reference to Bane's famous line from** ** _The Dark Knight Rises_** **.**


	29. Lux in Tenebris Lucet (Original) Chap 6

**_LUX IN TENEBRIS LUCET_ (ORIGINAL VERSION)**

 **CHAPTER 6:**

 **DARK SAVIOUR**

 _Halloween, 1991_.

Harry wasn't enjoying the Halloween feast as much as he could have been. This was, admittedly, for a couple of good reasons. The first was that his parents had died ten years ago on this very day, and for the wizards, because it was the day Voldemort was vanquished, it was a time for celebration. However, for Harry, it was a time for mourning. He had brought this up with Dumbledore, who sympathised, but gently asked him to come down to the feast anyway. It was good for morale to have the Boy Who Lived.

The second reason had two names involved: Hermione and Ron. In Charms, earlier today, the bossy know-it-all had been paired up with the redhead. Hermione had been a harridan ever since that incident involving the flying lesson and the subsequent 'midnight duel', going on about how they broke the rules, and it wore on Harry(1). It also wore on Alma, too, whenever she was awake and connected to Harry.

That being said, what happened was probably not good. In Charms, Ron had been struggling with Wingardium Leviosa, and Hermione had been correcting him. When he challenged her to do it, she did so, earning acclaim from Professor Flitwick. Ron was furious, and at the end of the lesson, had remarked to Harry that it was no wonder she had any friends. Her reaction startled them both: she fled from them, crying, and she had apparently hid in a girl's bathroom all day, sobbing and crying.

She had been a pain in the butt for the past little while, but Harry felt sorry for her. He was reminded, sharply, of what it was like to have no friends, especially before Alma came along.

Ah, yes, Alma. At times, she watched what Harry did through his eyes. Sometimes, she even walked with him along the corridors of Hogwarts, a girl in a red dress. She always vanished before anyone could see her, though some of the ghosts, as well as Ron's twin brothers, were giving him odd looks. He could understand the ghosts maybe perceiving his connection to Alma, but Fred and George?

Hogwarts was indeed a great school. He was enjoying himself immensely for the most part. But three people in particular made it less enjoyable. There was Draco Malfoy, the snide Slytherin who had baited Harry ever since Harry rejected the boy's offer of 'friendship'. Alma had asked on a few occasions to liquefy the boy, and Harry had to fight the temptation to say yes.

Then, there was Severus Snape, the Potions Master. He seemed to detest Harry right from the start, testing him on Potions questions that, while not actually outside the first year curriculum, were nonetheless very advanced. Harry managed to surprise the Potions Master by answering two of the three questions correctly, namely the one on the bezoar, and the one on aconite. Thank God for McGonagall's advice. But he also kept in mind that Snape was the one who had given Voldemort cause to come after the Potters.

Of course, Snape hated him for a petty and selfish reason. Voldemort knew that Snape had once been friends with Lily, and enemies with James, so to have his mortal enemy steal his friend away from him sowed the seeds of a massive grudge, even against the son. Only because he answered what questions he could competently and politely, did Harry manage to gain the most grudging of approvals from the Potions Master, and he still used what excuses he could to deduct points from Gryffindor. Like claiming Harry should have spotted Neville's mistake in adding those porcupine quills.

The third and final person was perhaps surprising. Potions was an ordeal thanks to Snape, and History of Magic was utterly boring and (if Harry knew the term) soporific, thanks to Professor Binns, the ghost teaching it. But the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was a joke. Quirrell was a stuttering mess of a man who seemed afraid of his own shadow. But during their last lesson to date, when Alma was watching, she whispered a warning in his ear. A warning that made him afraid.

 _He smells of Voldemort, like that Horcrux thing smelled._

Later, when Harry was in his bed, and his mind was in Alma's mindscape, they debated what to do. Harry wanted to go and tell Dumbledore, but Alma pointed out that he may know already. She had been present when Harry and Ron had tea with Hagrid. She had heard all sorts of thoughts buzzing around the gigantic, if friendly groundskeeper's mind, and found some of them curious. She divulged to Harry that Hagrid had brought a valuable item from Gringott's to Hogwarts, and shortly before someone attempted to rob the bank: none other than the legendary Philosopher's Stone.

Voldemort had some knowledge of the Stone. Supposedly, the only known person who had created it was one Nicholas Flamel, and he was, along with his wife, a famous recluse, one of the wizarding world's few immortals. For the Stone could not only perform transmutation of any metal into another (gold being a particularly coveted metal), but was also the key catalyst in the Elixir of Life.

During their talk in Diagon Alley, McGonagall expressed doubt that Voldemort was truly dead. Harry and Alma knew this to be so: they knew that Voldemort had created five Horcruxes, not counting Harry. They only knew of a few of them, and where they were. In any case, the Elixir of Life could be used to bring Voldemort back into corporeal existence.

It was Alma who pointed out that the Philosopher's Stone was probably bait in a trap. Dumbledore was playing a dangerous game. In fact, it was probably what lay beneath the trap door that the Cerberus (that Harry, Ron, and Hermione had encountered during Malfoy's attempt at entrapping them) was sitting on.

And Quirrell was an agent of Voldemort. Or worse. Alma warned Harry to be careful around him from now on. Snape may once have been an agent of Voldemort, but now, it seemed that Quirrell was.

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. The doors to the Great Hall burst open, and Quirrell, his turban askew, screamed, "TROLLLL! TROLLLL! IN THE DUNGEONS!" He came to a stop in front of the Great Table, in front of Dumbledore, and mumbled, in fatigue and fear, "Thought you'd want to know." He then sagged to the floor in a dead faint(2).

The uproar that followed was silenced only by Dumbledore, showing his true authority. He then ordered the Prefects to lead their students to their dormitories immediately. Harry noted that Professor Sprout and Professor Vector also went to accompany the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins, whose dormitories were in the vicinity of the dungeons. But why wasn't Snape helping the Slytherins?

As they were bustled away by Percy, Harry remembered Hermione: she had no way of knowing that the troll was wandering the school. So he and Ron slipped away. If they encountered a teacher, they would tell them. Hopefully, it wouldn't be Snape or Filch.

They very nearly encountered Snape, who was walking down the corridor. Harry decided to avoid him, but noted that he was heading for the third floor. He frowned. Was Snape going to take advantage to try and get past the Cerberus? Or was he heading someone else off?

 _The troll is a distraction_ , Alma hissed in his mind. _But it's heading this way. Hurry, Hermione is nearby!_

They made it to the toilets, only to see the troll, a big, stupid lump of a creature, stroll right inside. Seconds later, Hermione's screams began to ring out. Harry and Ron ran inside, to find Hermione struggling to avoid the creature's club as it advanced on her.

Things…went badly after that. Harry and Ron tried to distract it from its target, and succeeded somewhat too well. Ron was sent flying by the troll's club, ribs making a sickening crack as he slid down, injured and struggling to breathe. And the troll itself began to advance on Harry, a gleam in its piggy little eyes.

 _HARRY!_ screamed Alma, and it was heard by everyone in the room, and indeed, everyone in Hogwarts Castle. In fact, even a few people in Hogsmeade heard it. And suddenly, she was there, a girl in a red dress, lank black hair framing her grey, doll-like face, orange eyes glowing with hatred, a rippling purulent aura surrounding her as if she was on fire.

The troll stared, rather stupidly, at her. Hermione stared, in fear and surprise, at her. Ron, through the pain, stared at her.

Alma then said one word. Quietly, but with all the authority of a deity. It was a statement of reality, not a command.

 ** _Die_**.

The troll suddenly howled, a burbling gurgle of a sound, great torrents of liquid gushing from its body, bloody gouts of fluid pouring from every orifice on its body. Its eyes burst. It choked out its own putrefying tongue. Its club hand dropped off the arm, melting as it did so. A horrid smell filled the room, even more than the troll's normal smell of rank socks and uncleaned public toilets. It was the smell of death and decay, amplified a thousand-fold.

Harry ran to one of the few sinks that had survived the troll, and emptied his stomach into it. He didn't want to look at the final moments of the dying troll.

Hermione, however, couldn't look away. She watched as the troll appeared to decay, rapidly, the flesh all but melting off its bones. She remembered being traumatised by that scene from the end of _Doctor Who: Dragonfire_ , when Kane committed suicide, as well as that similar scene at the end of _Raiders of the Lost Ark_ , where Toht got the same treatment(3). To experience it in real life was something else.

Ron was also staring, trying not to breathe too hard, given that he had a couple of broken ribs. His eyes flickered to the girl in the red dress. Who the hell was she? And how could she kill a troll like this? Trolls were notoriously resistant to magical attack, so how could she liquefy its flesh with seemingly no effort? And how had she known Harry?

It was like this that McGonagall, Snape, and Quirrell found the four of them later. Quirrell took one look at the troll's liquefied remains, and Alma, and promptly collapsed. Snape's snarl of anger had transformed into an expression that he was clearly unaccustomed to: fear and awe. And McGonagall was beside herself already, learning that three of her Lions were here, but to find a fourth child, no Hogwarts student she recognised (and certainly not in uniform), along with the steaming, molten remains of the troll, sent her into shock.

Alma stared levelly at the teachers, before skipping up to McGonagall and giving a somewhat ironic curtsey. _All part of the service, Professors_ , she said, before she disappeared in a cloud of what looked like flower petals(4).

Harry turned to the professors. "Ron's hurt," he said plaintively. "He needs help."

"Severus, could you please help Mr Weasley?" McGonagall asked.

Snape scowled, but did as he was bid, using a Body Bind to make sure Ron and his ribs were kept still, and a _Mobilcorpus_ spell. As Snape moved out (limping as he did so), McGonagall turned her attention to the other two students. "Now, what happened here?" she asked, the anger and authority in her voice tempered by the faintest quaver of fear.

Harry opened his mouth, only for Hermione to interrupt him. "Please, Professor McGonagall, they were looking for me."

"Miss Granger?"

"I…I went looking for the troll because I…I thought I could deal with it on my own…"

"That's not true!" Harry yelped, before he could think. When McGonagall's eyes went to him, along with Hermione's, he said, "I heard someone teased her this morning, said some bad things about her. I don't know who. She was here all the time. She didn't know about the troll. That's why we came here, Professor, to try and find her. We didn't mean to run into the troll, we thought it'd be still in the dungeons! I…I had a bout of accidental magic when Ron got hurt. That's why the troll…" He gulped.

Hermione gaped at him, while McGonagall looked down at him, anger and fear for his safety, and even a little pride mixed in. "That's as maybe, Mr Potter, but I will have to deduct five points apiece from each of you. Fifteen points from Gryffindor in total. It was extraordinarily dangerous, and you could have notified a prefect. As it is, you are all lucky to be alive. However, I will add ten points, five apiece to you and Mr Weasley, for coming to aid a friend in need. But I need to ask, who was that girl?"

"My…imaginary friend," Harry said quietly. "I've seen her for a long time. She often arrives with my accidental magic."

McGonagall looked at the suppurating remains of the troll. Eventually, she said, "You're very lucky, Mr Potter. Trolls are very resilient to magic. That your accidental magic didn't harm you or your friends…Professor Dumbledore will be notified of this. Go to the common room. The students are finishing the feasts up there."

* * *

They arrived back at Gryffindor Tower not long afterwards. Harry noticed that the Weasley twins were looking at him strangely. The pair of them came over, their eyes not glittering with mischief as usual, but with something hard and flinty.

"Why is our brother in the hospital wing?" Fred asked.

"What were you doing with him and Hermione?" George enquired.

"Were you off fighting a troll?" Fred queried.

"And who the hell is Alma Wade?" George demanded.

"Alma…Harry, was that the girl who killed the troll? Was that Alma?" Hermione asked.

Harry was pressed into a quiet corner of the Common Room by his three fellow students. Eventually, he said, "Guys…can we wait until Ron gets here? He'll want to know. He was there too."

"Okay," Fred said. "But we want answers. Ron's a bit of a prat, but if he gets hurt…"

"…we hurt those who hurt him," George finished.

Harry nodded. Thankfully, the twins, upon looking at a strange parchment, announced Ron was on his way back. Cracked ribs, it seemed, were easy enough to heal. And when he entered through the portrait of the Fat Lady, he immediately went over to Harry and the others. "What the hell happened, Harry? Who was that girl?" he hissed.

Fred erected a privacy charm, and nodded to Harry. He looked at his four fellow Gryffindors. "Okay. It's about time I tell you about Alma Wade…"

 **CHAPTER 6 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Originally, I was going to make this chapter a series of vignettes about Harry's first year, or about his conversation with McGonagall in Diagon Alley. Instead, I decided to do it based around that fateful Halloween night involving the troll. Yes, things turn out different than in canon. It was only sheer luck that Harry and Ron managed to stop the damned thing in the book and film.**

 **To respond to DMacX's review, Harry is no less badass for Alma helping him. The core of Harry Potter won't change. He is still a caring, heroic character. But Alma is also ridiculously protective of him. In fact, she is overprotective. So when he is in mortal danger, she comes to the fore to help him through a massive application of psychic overkill. Harry will probably be underpowered compared to Alma Wade, but then again, Alma IS someone who can warp reality with her mind.**

 **But on the other hand, it is thanks to Harry being there for her and being a good friend that brings Alma out of the darkness. In the game, Alma is a hollow shell of a human being, but Harry is changing that. He's still the talented and powerful wizard he is in canon, and he will be capable of, for example, learning and casting a corporeal Patronus during his third year. In fact, Harry does manage to hold the Dementors off for a time during the climax of the events of** ** _The Prisoner of Azkaban_** **, and it's only when he is being overwhelmed that Alma basically does her melting-their-flesh with her mind thing. But the story is not about comparing Harry and Alma's magical power. It is about their friendship, and how it prevents Alma from sinking into darkness, while saving Harry from Voldemort's plans.**

 **Harry is still the youngest Quidditch player in Hogwarts history. He is still one of the best and most powerful wizards in the Wizarding World. But in this story, he has Alma by his side. He doesn't want to rely on her power, partly because it is so horrifying and partly because he doesn't want to use her as a magic power crutch. But he knows that it is there.**

 **I may get similar complaints when the Harry Potter of my other major** ** _Harry Potter_** **crossover,** ** _Harry Potter and the Cetra Heritage_** **, goes to Hogwarts with Aerith (and possibly others) in tow.**

 **Alma and Voldemort's memories are helping Harry get ahead of the game here. Her presence, as well as the lack of a Horcrux, means that Harry has better mental shielding than before. And Harry responds to Hermione's attempted cover story differently. I think he realises more that he could have died fighting the troll, and didn't want Hermione to get into trouble for his sake. He does, however, deliberately leave Ron's name out of the picture, and Hermione is grateful enough to them coming to help her that she doesn't correct him.**

 **Of course, now McGonagall, Snape, and Quirrell have seen Alma. And McGonagall is not buying Harry's story. So she'll be heading to Dumbledore.**

 **1\. Re-read the first book. As much as Harry and Ron broke the rules, Hermione is being more than a little bitchy. This is because she is obsessed with following the rules, and the Halloween incident helped get that out of her. And this is coming from someone who actually likes Hermione.**

 **2\. Although I am basing this more on the novels, I loved Ian Hart's take on Quirrell in this scene in the movie version, and preferred to adapt that, instead of the scene as in the book.**

 **3\. Both are gruesome melting head moments. I reckon Hermione, with her nerdish ways, is a closet Whovian, and she would have been maybe seven or eight when** ** _Dragonfire_** **was transmitted. She probably saw** ** _Raiders of the Lost Ark_** **on VHS.**

 **4\. I watched clips of Alma from the original** ** _F.E.A.R_** **on YouTube, and the child version seemed to disappear in drifts of what look like petals.**


	30. Lux in Tenebris Lucet (Original) Chap 7

**_LUX IN TENEBRIS LUCET_ (ORIGINAL VERSION)**

 **CHAPTER 7:**

 **PRESSING ISSUES AND ISSUES WITH THE PRESS**

 _The present day_.

Alma looked at the ring curiously. It seemed so innocuous at first glance. At once, it was beautiful and ugly. The gold band was beautiful, but the stone with the strange marking on it left her uneasy. And there were dark auras, plural, to it. One had the familiar smell of a Horcrux, specifically Voldemort's, about it. The others were presumably curses.

Earlier, Alma and Dumbledore decided that they were going to let the fake Mad-Eye Moody stew a bit, before going in to find out what he was planning. Dumbledore wanted to use Veritaserum on the impostor, as he warned that, without someone to stand trial, things might get ugly.

Harry was with her in Dumbledore's office, looking at the Ring. "So…this used to belong to Voldemort," he said, somewhat unnecessarily. The Gaunt Ring featured heavily in what he had of Voldemort's memories. He also knew better than to touch it, given that he knew that there was more than one curse on it. "What's that symbol on the stone?"

"The coat of arms of the Peverell family," Dumbledore said gravely. "Known throughout the Wizarding World as the sign of the Deathly Hallows…or the symbol of Grindlewald."

"That's the wizard you defeated back in World War 2, isn't he?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore nodded, before adding, gravely, "Alma knows what I'm about to day, but you don't. Grindlewald used to be my best friend…before we had a major falling-out. Grindlewald took the symbol of the Deathly Hallows, and perverted it, like his allies in the Nazi Party perverted the swastika, once a symbol of good luck, into a perpetual symbol of the vilest evil(1). Many in Durmstrang are repulsed by the sign of the Hallows." With a gesture, he conjured up a blackboard, and drew the same symbol, a triangle with a bisected circle within. He then broke it into its component parts: a triangle, a circle, and a line. "But the sign of the Hallows has endured better than the swastika, and it has meaning, for those who look. Do you remember _The Tale of the Three Brothers?_ "

Harry nodded. He had devoured that copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ that he had bought in Diagon Alley. "So the Hallows…they're the three artifacts Death gives the three Peverell brothers?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Indeed. This is certainly something you might wish to share with Miss Granger. Whether the Hallows are truly the work of Death, I cannot say. It is probably more likely that the artifacts themselves were created by a master or several masters, whose craft has long since been forgotten. How true the legend is is another matter entirely, and perhaps a discussion for another time." With his wand, he tapped the triangle. "That represents the Cloak of Invisibility, sometimes known as the Peverell Cloak, which, unlike other Invisibility Cloaks, will not fade or diminish with time."

"My cloak?" Harry questioned.

"Indeed. At the time I had borrowed it from your father, I was both studying it to see whether it was truly the Hallow, as well as using it to keep other members of the Order of the Phoenix safe," Dumbledore said. He then tapped the circle. "The Resurrection Stone, which can call back the spirits of the dead to communicate with the living. But it cannot bring them back forever, or as anything more substantial as a shade. It is this stone, I believe, that is set in that ring before you."

"And the line is the Elder Wand?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore smiled. "Indeed. I have a confession to make. While I am a very powerful wizard, much of my power for the past few decades comes from another source." He toyed with his wand pensively. "One that I won the allegiance of by defeating Grindlewald."

Harry's eyes widened. "Your wand…that's the Elder Wand?"

"Indeed," Dumbledore said, quietly. There was even an undercurrent of shame in that word. "This is something I would rather you not discuss openly, Harry. The Deathly Hallows are coveted by more wizards than just Voldemort. Alma already knows the gravity of the situation where the Hallows are concerned. Few people desire the Cloak of Invisibility, compared to the regrets they could assuage with the Stone, or the power they could wield with the Wand."

"Maybe," Harry said, before his gaze returned to the Gaunt Ring. Only, it wasn't there anymore, not on the plate it was on. Alma was holding it, cradling it in her hands while the other two were distracted. A half-formed warning on both Harry and Dumbledore's lips died when they realised the ring was floating in mid-air, surrounded by a dark field of energy. Alma was concentrating on it.

Suddenly, something within the ring seemed to break, and a shrill scream of pain emanated from it, eerie and haunting. Black smoke, briefly taking the form of an agonised face, puffed from the stone. Another flash, and the ring hurtled towards Dumbledore, who instinctively caught it, only to drop it, believing that he may have touched the cursed object.

 _It's fine. The curses have been removed_ , Alma said. _I removed those first while you two were discussing the Hallows. I got bored waiting_.

Dumbledore blinked, staring at the teenaged girl, before bending and picking it up gingerly. "That was a foolish thing to do, Alma."

 _You wanted me to remove the curses and the Horcrux. I have done so. The Resurrection Stone is yours. I have no interest in it_. She stood. _I believe I will go and get some rest. Are you coming, Harry?_

"In a moment, Alma," Harry said. Alma nodded, and left, far from offended. Harry had been kept out of the loop with some of Dumbledore's memories, although he did understand why. Alma also knew the question he wanted to ask the Headmaster.

As Alma disappeared in a cloud of petals, Dumbledore sighed. "I'm amazed she can do that. It's virtually impossible to Apparate within Hogwarts unless you're a house-elf, or a phoenix."

Fawkes trilled an agreement.

For a time, they sat there, until Harry plucked up the courage and spoke. "Professor…why do you want the Stone? Who do you want to see?"

Dumbledore didn't answer at first. But just as Harry opened his mouth to say "Never mind," Dumbledore did speak.

"In our first year, Harry, when we discussed the Mirror of Erised, you asked me what I would see in the Mirror."

"You said you see yourself holding a pair of socks," Harry said.

"Yes. I have to admit, I was rather facile then. True, I do need socks far more than people give them to me, but it wasn't the truth when it came to the Mirror at all. And to tell the truth, what I am to tell you isn't all of what I see in the Mirror. But I do see my younger sister, Ariana, alive and well. She died in…bad circumstances. The very circumstances that drove myself and Grindlewald apart, after so long being friends. I do not wish to speak any more on the matter, Harry. If you wish, I can lend you the Stone, and you may speak to your parents, perhaps."

Harry stood. "I'll…consider your gracious offer, Professor. And thank you for answering my question."

* * *

The next few days were something of a whirlwind. Alma and Harry received a mixture of both glares and admiration, with Alma also getting more than a little fear mixed in. While she would be lying if she said it didn't affect her, she was able to tolerate it. But her threat had merely increased the fear and loathing Hogwarts students, along with many of the visiting students, felt towards her.

She attended classes, and was a quick study in many magics. Perhaps she had been a witch after all, and Armacham had gotten the wrong end of the stick. She found Charms to be a particular favourite, partly because they were often fun, and partly because she liked the vivacious and enthusiastic personality of the diminutive teacher, Professor Flitwick.

Transfiguration was one of her poorer subjects, though: an attempt at turning an orange into a cricket ball as a demonstration only served to make the orange rapidly decay and melt. She sheepishly told McGonagall that her only real skill at transfiguration was turning things into decayed and molten versions of themselves. McGonagall was, understandably, far from amused: she had been one of the witnesses to the aftermath of the troll incident, after all. The only amusement McGonagall got, in fact, was the fact that Alma Wade, a witch of such destructive power, few in the world could match her, was capable of looking sheepish, even with her grey skin and orange eyes.

Ron had remained sullen and jealous. Alma could tell from his thoughts that, by this point, it was less about Harry having deceived every one, and more about his humiliation and Harry not standing up for him. Alma regretted damaging the friendship between Harry and Ron, but her loyalty was solely to Harry.

Of course, there was another source of annoyance. Draco Malfoy had become industrious, making badges to support Cedric Diggory, but also charming them so that they could read 'POTTER STINKS' at will. Outside Potions, he demonstrated it. Alma told Harry and Hermione to be quiet, mentally, as she had an idea. With a thought, she reached out, and twisted the charm. Instead, it said 'DR DRACO MALFOY', and underneath it, a particular surgical specialty. Hermione and Harry burst out laughing, and Alma couldn't help but smirk evilly.

Draco stared at the badge. "What in Merlin's name is a _colorectal surgeon?!_ " he yelled.

At that point, Snape made his appearance, gliding in. He noted the smirk on Alma's face, and glared, but looked at the badge. "Mr Malfoy, a colorectal surgeon is a type of Muggle Healer who deals in matters most… _alimentary_ ," Snape purred smoothly. Alma couldn't help but admire Snape's snark.

"Ali-what?" Malfoy demanded.

" _Bowels_ , Mr Malfoy! Surely you are an expert?! Without them, we cannot digest. Without them," he added pointedly, glaring at the gathered students, "many imbibed potions and antidotes would not work. Inside!"

The last word was nothing less than a command, and the students shuffled in.

As it turned out, the lesson was mercifully brief for Harry and Alma. Snape looked ready to either get Harry or Alma to be a guinea pig for antidotes. But Colin Creevey came in, asking for Harry and Alma. Snape, with the worst possible grace, allowed them to leave: it seemed that Ludo Bagman required their presence.

Before they left, Harry and Alma very pointedly left not only vials filled with antidote they had brewed earlier, but the recipes. Snape glared, but said nothing else.

Alma wasn't really fond of Creevey. She remembered him basically being a fanboy, fawning over Harry, just as Ginny used to. Colin got petrified by the Basilisk, and Ginny got mentally molested by a Horcrux. It was only when they found the Diary that they were able to stop it. Unfortunately, Lockhart decided to cock things up after that. But Colin Creevey was harmless.

She noticed, after he was chatting to Harry, that he was looking at her rather shyly. A bit fearfully, but his emotions had far less of the hatred she had felt from the others. _Yes?_ she asked.

"Harry said…you were the one who killed the Basilisk that year." Hesitantly, he said, "Thank you."

Alma couldn't help but smile. _You're welcome_.

* * *

They were led to a small classroom that had been commandeered for the purpose of this ceremony, the Weighing of the Wands. Alma had no concern that she had no wand. Instilling a bit more awe in these cretins would be enjoyable. She recognised the paunchy and overgrown schoolboy-like Bagman, and the other three Champions. Viktor Krum was sitting moodily in a corner, aquiline and broody. Fleur Delacour, with her beautiful silvery-blonde hair and refined, ethereal features. Alma felt a small pang of jealousy at the French girl's effortless beauty. And there was, of course, the darkly handsome Cedric Diggory.

Alma noted the presence of two others that she hadn't seen or met before, or even heard of through Voldemort's memories. But the woman had the look of someone in the press, and lurid tabloid press at that. Her eyes narrowed. This was going to suck.

She wore magenta robes that seared at the eyes, and curly hair. Her eyes peered out from behind jewelled spectacles. She was introduced by Bagman as Rita Skeeter, who was doing, according to him, a bit in the press.

Alma could feel the woman's hungry thoughts. Then again, she only had to look at her face to do that. Hearing the thoughts was sickening. She was looking to do some lurid tabloid article on the Boy Who Lived.

After asking to interview Harry, and not bothering to wait for a reply, she grabbed Harry and dragged him into a nearby broom cupboard. _Go along with it_ , Alma sent. _I'll settle her hash_.

* * *

Rita Skeeter was beside herself with glee. At last, at last, she had the Boy Who Lived to interview! Just a quick interview with her Quick-Quotes Quill, and she'd have an article that would sell a ridiculous amount of copies of the Daily Prophet. Maybe she might be able to buy that necklace she had her eye on.

Rita Skeeter had little interest in the truth, unless the pure, unadulterated truth was sure to shake the halls of the mighty. The only establishment she didn't wish to shake was the Daily Prophet. Hell, she'd criticize the Ministry if she thought she could get away with it, and sell enough copies.

Had she had any inkling about Harry's true childhood, she probably _would_ have been interested in the truth where he was concerned. But like almost all of Magical Britain, she thought he had been raised by loving, or at least adequate relatives. Muggles, yes, but adequate.

After dragging Harry into the broom cupboard, Rita fumbled around in her bag. She extracted a number of magical candles, lit them, and sent them into mid-air with her wand. It was only then that she returned her gaze to her fellow occupant of the broom cupboard. And shrieked at the orange eyes glowing at her out of the darkness.

 _Boo_ , Alma said.

"H-h-h-how d-d-d-did…"

 _Magic_ , Alma said, cutting off the stammered question. _Mr Potter will not be answering any questions without an approved chaperone. However, if you play nice, you will get an exclusive interview. With both of us_.

"You? But…"

 _I am his oldest friend. Plus, would you like to give the American magical community a bloody nose(_ _2)_ _?_

Now this definitely got through to Rita. With a predatory smile that would have done a shark proud, she asked, "Then please, tell me more."

 _Hogsmeade. This Saturday. The Hog's Head. Noon._ Alma's eyes then narrowed. _And don't try your Animagus form_.

Rita's eyes widened. Could this girl sense her thoughts?!

 _I've had practise detecting Animagi_ , Alma clarified. Not a complete lie, but it would have to do. _Like I said: Hogsmeade. This Saturday. The Hog's Head. Noon._ Alma's glowing eyes flicked down to Rita's bag _. And a Dicta-Quill, if you don't mind, not a Quick-Quotes Quill. Believe me, you won't need it_ …

 **CHAPTER 7 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Wow, I am making a rod for my own back, updating this story so frequently. Don't get comfortable. The update status of this story is WIFLI, along with all my other fanfics:** ** _When I Feel Like It_** **.**

 **Anyway, I decided to have Dumbledore tell Harry about the Deathly Hallows and his real reason for wanting the Stone. I also thought that having them suddenly realise Alma was in the middle of removing the curses and the Horcrux was funny.**

 **Speaking of funny, how do you guys like the prank Alma played on Malfoy? In case you're wondering why Snape didn't try to punish Alma, there's a few reasons for that. One, there's no way of proving it (not that that hasn't stopped Snape from accusing Harry or his friends of something or other). Two, he does get exasperated with the arrogance of his godson. Three, I think he wanted to say something about bowels. And four, he already knows something of the power of Alma. Snape would prefer his flesh to stay un-liquefied and on his bones. He's a dick, but he's not an idiot.**

 **Oh, and Alma has put Rita Skeeter very firmly in her place. Heh heh heh…**

 **1\. This is actually true. The swastika was once a symbol of good luck in many cultures. Unfortunately, the Nazis, by using it as their symbol, perverted it, and it is now irrevocably a sign of evil in the West. Sickening, isn't it?**

 **2\. One thing that annoys me in Harry Potter fanfics that I have come across is how Magical USA is portrayed. It's frequently portrayed as being far more progressive than Magical Britain, sometimes damn nearly a utopia. Given that, in this story, Alma is an ultra-powerful type of witch who was born in the US, I intend to portray a very different Magical USA, or at least part of it.**


	31. Shadow Games and Prologue

**Another story that I started writing, and which I pulled out of the depths of my archives, was intended to be an epic crossover with _Yu-Gi-Oh!_ Now, before you all groan, hear me out. While I had a small interest in the anime series when it first came out, it never quite grabbed me. However, I did enjoy the famous Abridged Series created by Martin 'Little Kuriboh" Billany, and without him, I would never have become interested in the original manga, which is a darker and more enjoyable work than the anime series, which itself only adapts part of the manga series. Or rather, the second anime series: the first, never officially released outside Japan, is closer to the initial volumes of the manga in many regards, and is known by fans as 'Season Zero'.**

 **Why, then, didn't I write this story? I had a basic plot outline worked out after all. Well, the truth was, I was writing a lot of First Year stories, and got sick of writing them, so it fell by the wayside. Don't get me wrong, one day, I may revisit this concept. The involvement of Yu-Gi-Oh! characters, however, was going to be limited: Yugi and his friends wouldn't appear, though the Kaibas and the main story arc villains would. I even had this idea that Bakura would inhabit Ron, which would be interesting, I thought. Sadly, it didn't work out. One day, I may come back to this story.**

 **This chapter contains an extremely dangerous game that comes from the very first chapter of the manga. I must emphasise that this is very much a 'do not try this at home' deal. It's no wonder the 'Money and Knife' game was replaced by the no-less dangerous but harder to set up cards-and-abseiling game in the Season Zero adaptation. I repeat, DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME. I'm merely replicating what was in the manga.**

* * *

 _ **SHADOW GAMES AND PHILOSOPHER'S STONES**_

 **PROLOGUE:**

 **MONEY AND KNIFE**

 _I feel lost as I walk down this road,_

 _Even though it's so familiar._

 _From the darkness something's coming out._

 _Another me is born._

 _-'Kawaita Sakebi', or 'A Cry of Thirst', originally by Field of View, as translated by MidiGuyFP. The theme song of_ Yu-Gi-Oh!: Season Zero _._

To say that Dudley Dursley was an unpleasant boy was rather like saying that swimming in a vat of hydrofluoric acid was an unsound idea. In short, an observation of considerable understatement.

When children are spoiled, they can either become nice, or rotten. Not that there isn't any middle ground, a median in a spectrum of spoiled personalities, but Dudley Dursley was definitely rotten. It was for him that the proverb ' _spare the rod and spoil the child_ ' was written. But no, his father doted on him, and worse, poisoned his mind with lies and half-truths and a sense of entitlement far beyond what he was actually worth.

For this reason, and more, Dudley had become a bully, a bulky blackguard with an ego as inflated as his body was with fat. He lived by dominating other kids.

Sometimes, children like Dudley Dursley could claw themselves out of their rotten natures. Sometimes, they can grow out of being the bully, and actually become decent people. But the path Dudley was on suggested otherwise. Which was why he, and his father, were at their school, late at night.

Both Dursley males had been compared to marine mammals, though to tell the truth, such comparisons were insulting to said marine mammals. Dudley had often been compared to a baby whale with a blonde wig, while Vernon, with his big bushy moustache and ornery disposition, was said to resemble a walrus. Vernon prided himself on being normal, when in reality, he was merely mediocre. He worked for Grunnings, a firm that specialised in making drills, and while being a manager at a place like this was certainly a necessary job, he had the attitude of actually believing himself indispensable to the world in general, and Grunnings in particular.

If Vernon Dursley had any intellectual inclinations, which he didn't (laughably considering it to be beneath him), he may have heard of Charles de Gaulle's famous saying, _The graveyards are filled with indispensable men_.

He was here because he wanted something he believed was rightfully his. Vernon Dursley was a possessive man, a quality he had unfortunately passed onto his son. When he learned that his son was effectively becoming a standover man at school, he thought it only right and proper. The law of the jungle was rife in business, and while Dudley was stepping over a line, Vernon had just enough money and clout to bully the teachers into submission. After all, the principal was an old friend of his.

What was that phrase that CEO of that Anglo-Japanese corporation used? _Screw the rules, I have money_ (1). Might as well add ' _and connections_ ' to that as well.

But when Vernon didn't get his way, he didn't like it. For all the fact that he considered himself a paragon of men, he was still but a child in many ways: a petulant brat who, like Dudley, had been coddled and spoiled. So it was hard for him to understand why his wife ran out on him for that older Japanese man! And she took the freak with her, and saddled him with Dudley.

Well, tonight, that was going to change. Dudley had cornered his freak cousin today while he was fiddling with some puzzle that his new uncle had given him, and beaten him up, demanding a thousand pounds(2), or he'd give him a Chelsea smile(3). Vernon had applauded this, as he felt he deserved some child support, despite being given money by his sister, Marge.

When that bitch of an ex-wife rang in anger, Vernon coldly told her that if she tried calling the police, he'd have his old friends the principal of the school and the police commissioner shut her down. " _You ran off with the freak_ ," he said, " _and left poor Duddiekins alone with me. I'll swear up and down in court that you're a poor mother, and your pet Jap doesn't earn enough to hire a better lawyer than me._ " A bit of a bluff, but he could hear the submission in her voice.

But then, he got a phone call earlier this night, from none other than the freak. Except…he sounded different. He said that he had the money, and more, and wanted Vernon and Dudley to come here to the school…alone.

Vernon was cautious enough to consider calling the police beforehand, before he decided against it. It wasn't like an eight year old could threaten him, could he?

As they came to a table in the playground area, used for students wanting to eat lunch or morning tea, a light suddenly flared up, illuminating the once shadow-drowned table. And its sole occupant.

The freak.

Except…he looked different, even more freakish than before. His dark hair was always messy, but now, it seemed to stand on end, as if electrified, exposing the distinctive lightning-bolt scar on his forehead. And was it just the Dursleys' imaginations, or were his once green eyes now purple, flecked with a near-demonic red? A pyramid, apparently made of gold, hung on a cord around his neck, with an eye-like symbol that looked Egyptian.

But the biggest change to the freak was his attitude. Where he had been, if not quite meek, then introverted, there was something cocky and confident about him now. And something more than that…

"Dudley…Uncle Vernon…how nice of you to drop by," the freak purred. Vernon was bemused. The freak's voice sounded more like an older teenager than an eight year old. And it was the voice of a king, of a man who was used to power, and completely unintimidated.

This must be the freak's freakishness coming out, Vernon decided. Or maybe that vicious freak who killed the freak's parents had taken the freak over. Vernon felt a small tremor of fear in his soul, but stamped down on it, hard. "You called us out here, boy," Vernon growled. "I assume the money is involved."

The freak smiled, and pulled a large wad of banknotes out from his pocket. More than Vernon had thought. "Indeed. But I thought I'd up the stakes a little. Duddiekins wanted a thousand pounds. You can take it, or, if you think you're up to it, well, I have brought three thousand pounds. To get that, though…you'll have to play a game."

Outrage was quickly smothered by greed. Three thousand pounds! Vernon smirked. And even if he lost the game, he could beat the freak into a broken wreck. "What game is it?"

"The game is simple enough," the freak said, pulling a knife, and a rather large and wicked-looking one as well, from another pocket. "I call it Money and Knife. To play, you place your hand, palm down, on the table, and the money on the back of your hand. You then have to stab down through the banknotes. Should you fail to pick up more than one banknote on the knife, or take the money by hand, you forfeit. And should you cheat…" At this, the freak's smile widened. "Well, if you cheat, you get a Penalty Game."

"I'm not afraid of you, boy!" Vernon said without hesitation, sitting down at the table, Dudley copying him.

"Well, you should be. And one other thing: my name is Harry," the freak said, pointedly.

Vernon ignored him. Stupid freak. He was going to lose…

* * *

The game started well. The freak didn't get much money with his first stab, but both Dudley and Vernon got more. But as the game went on, Vernon began to get more and more worried. The freak's confidence never wavered. Neither did that damned grin.

Soon, Vernon's turn came yet again, with the cash on the back of his hand, and the knife poised, ready to plunge through the money. But something was wrong. Vernon froze, his hands trembling. The pile of money looked so thin now, and the knife…oh, the knife seemed all too eager to plunge through the thin sheaf of paper and into the flesh in the back of his hand.

"Shadow Games reveal your true nature," the freak purred, his smile even wider. "Right now, the hand with the knife in it is controlled by your greed. The rules state that you can still stab your hand, and keep the banknotes you get. But are you willing to sacrifice your hand for money?"

 _No!_ Vernon screamed internally _. I will not! And there is another way out of this. I do not play by your rules, freak. And you were stupid enough to leave a knife in my hand_.

Greed and hubris had won out over common sense and fear of being caught. Under almost every other circumstance, Vernon Dursley would have shied away from out and out murder. But within a Shadow Game, his true nature was brought to the surface: a greedy, venial bastard who would do anything to get what he wanted. And a glance at his son told him that Dudley had been thinking the same thing.

And with that, Vernon lashed out with the knife, intending to bury it in the freak's chest. He was, after all, sitting at a table. How could he get away in time? Vernon may have been bulky, but he could be fast with his hands when he needed to.

But the freak suddenly wasn't there anymore. Instead, he was standing a little way away, arms crossed, that smile growing ever wider. "I thought so. I knew you'd cheat, Vernon."

Vernon screamed an incoherent bellow, and threw the knife at the freak, who caught it (by the blade, no less!) as casually as he might have caught a ball. A glowing symbol, like the eye on that stupid amulet of his, appeared on his forehead. And suddenly, Vernon and Dudley were paralysed.

"What the hell is that?" Dudley yelped, his paralysis apparently not reaching his lips.

"A sign seen by those who trespass over the lives of others, cousin," the freak smirked. "You threatened me and Aunt Petunia. You wanted money that was not rightfully yours. Oh, and you just tried to kill me. Better and worse men than you have tried, and failed. Time for your Penalty Game, gentlemen, though I use that term loosely."

"Who are you?" Vernon demanded, his face turning a particularly exquisite shade of puce. "You're not the freak!"

"Well, I am borrowing his body," the freak said. "Harry Potter is currently AWOL. I do not have a name, but you can call me…Shadow(4)." He then pointed an accusatory finger at them both. "PENALTY GAME!" he bellowed in a stentorian voice that seemed too large and loud for his eight year old frame. "GREED: THE ILLUSION OF AVARICE!"

Suddenly, they were free, and…what was this? Things seemed to be falling from the very heavens themselves. And not just any old things: they were banknotes! Banknotes fluttering from the sky like leaves or snowflakes.

Money, money, money! Their wildest dreams come true! Riches beyond the dreams of avarice…except they weren't. The Dursleys were trapped in dreams of avarice. The two Dursleys capered and hollered amongst piles of dead leaves and trash, while the one they called 'freak', and who was once called Harry Potter, carefully took the real banknotes away, and then took his leave of the two greedy idiots, smiling darkly all the while.

* * *

The Solomon Games Shop was only a relatively new games shop, but even in Surrey, it had already become a modest success. Despite his more traditional values, Sugoroku Muto, who now usually went by the first name of Solomon(5), had a wide range of games that appealed to young and old alike. From games as ancient as chess, backgammon, and _go_ , to the latest video games, and even some games in more than one restricted area. One of them was for adults only. And the other…was for a very different type of clientele.

Solomon Muto was a kind and caring man, if a somewhat eccentric one. He was in his early fifties, short, and with spiky dark grey hair, habitually worn under a bandanna. He was of Japanese extraction, and cultivated the air of a lovable, eccentric uncle to his customers. But he had more than one secret. And one of those was standing with him in his office, as he sat there, worrying uncharacteristically.

The man standing near the door appeared to be of Middle Eastern descent, dressed in light-coloured robes and a turban. His blue eyes were dull and flat, and yet seemed to be piercing in a strange, paradoxical way. Around his neck, worn like a necklace, was a gigantic gold key, in the shape of an ankh.

"The Millennium Puzzle has been assembled, then? By your adoptive nephew?" the Middle Eastern man asked in a quiet, solemn voice.

Solomon nodded. "I thought it would occupy young Harry's time. He has such a good mind. I shudder to think about what he would be like if Petunia hadn't left her husband. But to have this happen…I don't know where you got the money you gave him from, Shadi."

Shadi smirked slightly, one of the few times Solomon had seen the man show any emotion other than a stoic frown, or perhaps mild disapproval. "In my official capacity as liaison to the British Museum's Egyptology Department, I earn substantial amounts of money which…being what I am, I do not actually need. When I sensed his troubles, I gave him triple the money, hoping that would delay the two Dursleys long enough until I could deal with them myself. I cannot judge the whole world with the Millennium Scales, but they may have attacked you and stolen the Millennium Puzzle, and that would justify such an action. Of course, if the Millennium Puzzle has truly been assembled, and its power granted to your nephew, then it may be a moot point."

Solomon was about to reply, when he heard the door to the rear of the shop being opened, and the alarm being disabled. Without a word, the two men exited the office, and found Harry climbing the stairs. Solomon was about to go to him, before Shadi blocked his path with his arm. "Let him go for the moment. I can sense the Shadow Magic coming from him. He has visited justice upon the Dursleys. He is taking the first step towards his destiny."

 _Which one?_ Solomon wondered, worried. _After all, he is already The Boy Who Lived. He doesn't need another destiny…_

 **PROLOGUE ANNOTATIONS**

 **I hope that you're enjoying things so far.** ** _Yu-Gi-Oh!_** **fans, or at least those who have read the original manga, will recognise much of the plot and some of the dialogue (in modified form) as being from the very first chapter of the manga. The Money and Knife game is taken from that chapter too, and is also ridiculously dangerous. As mentioned before, DO NOT TRY IT AT HOME!**

 **You'll notice that I have introduced Shadi quite early. His role in this story is different, but similar, to that he played in** ** _Yu-Gi-Oh!_** **In this story, he and Solomon are old friends. Yes, I know, canon defilement. Cope with it. And if you're wondering why Vernon and Dudley are far more vicious than they are in canon, well, I can sort of justify it with Petunia running away with Solomon Muto.**

 **1\. My first** ** _Yu-Gi-Oh! The Abridged Series_** **reference. The businessman in question, however, is not Seto Kaiba, but his father, who will make an appearance later…**

 **2\. I chose an amount that was a big round number, and not that far from the amount that Ushio tries to extort from Yugi in the first chapter.**

 **3\. Or a Glasgow smile, but I chose Chelsea because Surrey is close to London. Basically a rather nasty form of disfigurement where a scar is carved into the cheek, like an extension of the mouth. The Joker from** ** _The Dark Knight_** **is perhaps the most prominent example in pop culture. Because of the blood vessels in the cheeks, this injury can actually be potentially lethal.**

 **4\. I struggled with what to call Yami/Atem/the Nameless Pharaoh in this. I very nearly kept on calling him Yami, but 'Yami' means 'darkness' or 'dark' in Japanese. I decided to use an equivalent, and I think it's rather fitting: in the title sequence for** ** _Yu-Gi-Oh! Season Zero_** **, Yami is portrayed as a menacing shadow, something that seems to recur throughout the series proper. Therefore, Shadow, for he is a dark entity bound to Harry.**

 **5\. I deliberately decided to show that Solomon was a name Sugoroku Muto (his original Japanese name) adopted, as a form of Anglicization. Keep in mind, there'll be more Anglicizations to come, particularly of the Kaibas. You have been warned…**


	32. News Bulletin 1

**For the next posting to this, I'm going to try something a little different. Instead of a sample chapter or an archived chapter of an abandoned and deleted work, I'm testing the waters for the first in what may be a series of humorous announcement threads, done in the style of a news bulletin. Hope you enjoy.**

 **BTW, I'm gratified at the response to the prologue of _Shadow Games and Philosopher's Stones_ , but the possibility of it being turned into a full story, at the moment, is pretty damn slim. I don't have the interest to do it at the moment, and I posted it purely as an interesting thing I had worked on. If I do come back to the story, it's because I have some inspiration. I might try and finish the still-incomplete first chapter later, though, if only to give you guys a bit more to chew on.**

* * *

(Opening music: _Mars, Bringer of War_ by Gustav Holst)

Good evening. This is the Cauldron News Bulletin. I am James Fullalove, and it's time for the news.

Mere hours ago, there was a bloody battle to the death between Ginny and Hermione shippers. However, neither side prevailed, as the Luna shippers ganked them when they got exhausted fighting each other. The Luna shippers were said to be riding Crumple-Horned Snorkacks...and were wielding dart guns with hallucinogen doses in the darts. None of the combatants involved were available for comment, being either dead, or delirious.

In other news, one of the more prominent writers of good-aligned Voldemort fanfiction recently escaped a police raid this morning. Witnesses identified the man as pale, with black hair, golden snake-like eyes, and a vaguely androgynous appearance. He fled the scene using a strange spell called "Kuchiyose no Jutsu". The Naruto fanbase has declined to comment on the possibility of Orochimaru infiltrating this website.

It is a red-letter day as Quatermass completes his 21st fanfic, a Harry Potter/ _Final Fantasy X_ crossover called _Cycle of Sin_. However, he intends to take a break from writing fanfic, citing burnout and having too many fanfics on his plate. He also wishes to work on his non-fanfic writing.

However, fans of his writing should not despair. There will be updates, albeit sporadically, depending on time, inspiration, and other committments. And there is also a poll present on his profile. The poll is a list of stories that have left things open for a sequel, and while the most voted for story may not necessarily get a sequel sooner, it will still act as an indicator to Quatermass which stories want a sequel to for. The stories in question are _Sins of the Father, Broken Tools, Journey of the Sorcerer, Fall to Zenith, Is Your Great-Aunt an AI?!, Cycle of Sin_ , and _A Third Summoner_. In light of comments made regarding a prior poll, you will be able to vote for up to two options.

The forecast is for heavy bashing, particularly of Weasleys, Dumbledore, and Snape.

I am James Fullalove, and this has been the Cauldron News Bulletin. Good night.

(Ending music: _Inhumanity_ by Trevor Duncan)

 **BULLETIN 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **The opening and closing themes, along with the character of James Fullalove (a journalist rather than a newsreader originally) come from the _Quatermass_ serials of the 50s. Yes, my username actually comes from somewhere.**

 **I am taking a break from fanfic writing to a degree, or at least not working as hard as I had before. The reason is, it's frankly killing my creativity. And I really, REALLY want to get back to working on my non-fanfic writing, something my fanfic writing has shoved to the wayside, to be honest. I have a lot of fanfics for you to choose from anyway, Harry Potter or otherwise.**

 **That being said, feel free to look at and vote in my poll. And I hope this news bulletin, such as it was, made you giggle a little.**

 **EDIT: I forgot to add the bloody poll to my profile. D'OH!**


	33. Shadow Games and Chapter 1

**Before I get onto the next sample chapter of _Shadow Games and Philosopher's Stones_ , I'd like to make a few announcements. Having managed to get some more writing of my non-fanfic stories done, I can safely say that I may very well be doing a decent update around Christmas. I will begin posting a list on my profile of stories that will be updated, though the only story (as of writing this: things will change closer to Christmas) with a completed chapter is my _Fate/Zero/Thor_ crossover _Light the Blue Touch Paper and Run Like Hell_. Yes, I took the name from my Harry Potter/ _Fate/Stay Night_ crossover posted here. Give it a whirl if you want to see Loki teaming up with Medea to piss people off in the Fourth Grail War, as the first four chapters have been posted. That being said, the Christmas update won't be extremely huge unless I get lucky: I still want to work on my non-fanfic stories, and motivation and inspiration is lacking a little. I also finally took the plunge on reading _Homestuck_. Blame my playing _Undertale_ , which I want to do at least one fanfic for (aside from _Dum Spiro Spero_ , a oneshot crossover with _FEAR_ that I did for Halloween, plug, plug): I know that Toby Fox did a version of _Megalovania_ for _Homestuck_ , and I had heard quite a bit about the series before _Undertale_ was released...**

 **That being said, I hadn't completed the first (numbered rather than prologue) chapter of** ** _Shadow Games and Philosopher's Stones_ when I posted the prologue. Having gotten a good response, I went back, found that the chapter was pretty much nearly finished, so I went and did so. It may never become a full fic, but I hope you enjoy what's there. The emphasis in this chapter is more on Petunia and Harry than it is on Shadow/Yami, and is pretty much going through the stations of canon here.  
**

* * *

 _ **SHADOW GAMES AND PHILOSOPHER'S STONES**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **DEPARTURE**

Petunia Evans knew that this day would come for a long time. She remembered when Lily got her letter, and the pangs of envy and jealousy that she had felt towards her younger sister. She had always felt that way, as Lily was more pretty and more intelligent and more popular and more…moreness. It was only now, ten years after Lily's death, that Petunia was able to make her peace with that, if only because she had to be the mother Lily could never be.

Not that Harry called her mother. He called her Aunt Petunia, but it was so filled with love, she found herself not caring. She found herself wondering whether she would have gotten such love out of Dudley. Even now, she wasn't so sure, and she had brought him into the world. But Vernon had taken him away from her, because she had dared to defy him, thanks to Solomon.

In a perverse way, she had won something that Lily hadn't had for as long as Petunia: Harry's love. True, Harry did love his mother, even though she was dead for a decade, but she wasn't around to see it. And Petunia didn't want to crow about that, anyway. The death of Lily now held a bitter taste in her mouth, where once it had tasted as sweet as honey, an irony not lost on her.

And now, she was seeing her son off to Hogwarts. Maybe things might get better. The poor boy had few friends his age: Dudley had scared just about anyone who wanted to be Harry's friend away, and after Dudley and his father had been found, insane and giggling while cavorting in piles of leaves and trash, the rumours spread by Dudley took on a life of their own. Kids took to avoiding Harry, believing that he had something to do with it.

And according to Solomon, they were right.

Petunia had never liked the Millennium Puzzle, and to learn that there was a dormant spirit within, capable of possessing Harry…she was frightened, even horrified. However, the spirit, Shadow, did once speak to her, taking over Harry's body. She was still highly disturbed, and her wariness never went away. But…she could at least accept that this entity was protective of Harry, and of his family.

His family. He had accepted her as his family, and in a good way. She had feared it wouldn't be the case, especially after, not long before Dudley's attempted extortion, she had revealed to him the truth about his parents. Her lies had been ones of omission: she had told him that they had been murdered by a terrorist targeting them, who ended up killed himself. But after he accidentally turned his teacher's wig blue, and then ended up on the roof of the school when Dudley and his gang pursued him…well, she had to tell him the truth.

Lily, and her husband, that obnoxious James Potter, were capable of magic, as was Harry. Unfortunately, they had also defied a rather powerful and evil wizard, the Dark Lord Voldemort, who was, effectively, the magical equivalent of a terrorist, murdering those who defied him, as well as non-magical folk (she hated that term 'Muggle', so patronising) and wizards born of non-magical folk…like Lily was. Voldemort had somehow tracked them down and murdered them, but Harry somehow managed to avoid being killed. Instead, the Killing Curse, _Avada Kedavra_ , rebounded, leaving Voldemort dead, and Harry scarred.

Petunia remembered how perversely elated she had felt when she learned that Lily was dead. That elation was marred, because the explanation was in a letter, written by Professor Dumbledore, attached to an infant Harry, left at her door. She was told that she had to look after him, for her sister, supposedly, had erected some sort of magic, fuelled by her sacrifice, that only a relative could maintain, even if they weren't magical.

Petunia, as a form of revenge against her oh-so-better sister, had plotted to make the boy into a servant, and to use what monies promised by Dumbledore and that they could get from the government to enhance their lifestyle. But there was that dinner that Vernon nearly prevented her from going to, where she met Solomon Muto for the first time in years.

The two had met before briefly, before Petunia courted Vernon Dursley, at one of Lily's gatherings. Solomon had been invited by Dumbledore to talk to Petunia, who was on the verge of going to university. Solomon turned out to be a Squib, a person born to magical parents, but incapable of using magic, though they could use magic items, see magical creatures, and even mix potions. Solomon was apparently an archaeologist of some repute, despite being in his thirties. Petunia had found him interesting and charming, but she couldn't help but shake the feeling that the old goat Dumbledore had deliberately pushed Solomon into her path, as an apology to not admitting her to Hogwarts.

And then, when they met again…something started that culminated in this day. And despite the acrimonious circumstances under which she left Vernon Dursley, where he discarded Harry with her while taking her own flesh and blood away from her…she felt that this was a better life. Solomon had understood her bitterness at never being able to go to Hogwarts. " _But just because you yourself have no magic, doesn't mean you should discard it from your life completely_ ," he had said.

She had remarked, sarcastically, that he was getting to be like his Biblical namesake.

And now, she was standing on Platform 9 ¾ at King's Cross, watching as Harry waved to her from a window on the train, the Millennium Puzzle hanging from around his neck. It was a bittersweet moment. Solomon had been right: it was a mistake to get rid of magic from one's life. But she also knew that he'd be in danger. Harry Potter was famous, after all. And there were those who might want revenge on him for the part he played, albeit inadvertently, in the downfall of their master.

She only hoped that Dumbledore would keep him safe, as much as she and Solomon had tried to over the years. And failing that, there was always Shadow…

* * *

" _You seem nervous, Harry._ "

Shadow's deep voice used to scare Harry. Now, it was a comfort, a balm for him. "Well, of course I am. New school, and for magic too. And I'm famous for doing something I didn't actually do."

Shadow nodded sagely. Hagrid, the gigantic Keeper of the Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts, had taken him and his aunt to Diagon Alley on his birthday. Although Harry knew a little of his celebrity, it was another thing entirely to have all those people either gaping at him, or pawing at him. It made him uncomfortable, to say the least.

Even so, Diagon Alley was wonderful. Uncle Solomon had regaled him with tales of its wonders, and the reality didn't disappoint. Unfortunately, for his first trip, he had to be restricted to getting school stuff, or else he would have spent all day in the games shop, or in Flourish and Blotts, the bookshop.

And then, there was what he found out about his wand. After a lot of trying, Ollivander finally gave him one that worked, but everyone present was disturbed to learn that the wand was the twin of none other than Voldemort's wand. Harry found that bit of information disturbing, to say the very least. It was his wand's brother that inflicted that jagged scar into his forehead.

Harry had sat down after waving his aunt goodbye, and was currently in an empty carriage. Soon, the Hogwarts Express was on its way.

He wasn't quite alone. There was Shadow, of course, and then there was that beautiful snowy white owl that Hagrid had bought for him. Harry had named her Hedwig, after someone he had read about in _A History of Magic_. But he was alone with them, for a time, until the door opened, and a red-haired boy with a smudge of dirt on his nose poked his face in. "Excuse me, can I sit in here? Just about everywhere else is full."

Harry shrugged. "Sure." He'd seen the boy, along with a family of redheads, on the platform. Twin brothers, older than this one, had promised to send their youngest child, a girl, a toilet seat from Hogwarts. Pranksters and troublemakers, presumably. "What's your name?" he asked.

"Ron Weasley. What about you?"

He seemed friendly enough, but Harry dreaded the attention he was going to be given very shortly. "My name is…please don't stare, but my name is Harry Potter. You're staring," Harry added after a brief pause.

"Oh, wow," Ron breathed. "And do you have the…?" He indicated his forehead.

Sighing, Harry brushed aside his hair to reveal the infamous scar.

"Wicked," Ron breathed.

"Well, the guy who gave it to me was," Harry remarked, a little too acidly.

Ron, shamefaced, leaned back. "Sorry. I heard you had to go and live with Muggles."

"My aunt's a Muggle, but my uncle…well, my current one, he's what you call a Squib. Solomon Muto."

"Oh yeah, the archaeologist!" Ron said, brightening. "Bill's met him a few times. My oldest brother: he's a cursebreaker for Gringott's, the bank. They hire him out to some of the archaeology digs. Bill thinks highly of him." He noticed the Millennium Puzzle. "Is that some souvenir your father got from Egypt?"

"Yeah, the Millennium Puzzle. Uncle Solomon is an expert at games, he runs a games shop in Surrey. He gave it to me. Supposedly, I was the only person to ever complete the Millennium Puzzle."

"Is that gold?"

"I think so."

Ron looked rather downcast. "Your uncle must be rich to give you something like that."

"Not really. What's the matter?" Harry then noticed that Ron was wearing rather worn-looking clothing. Hand-me-downs, he realised. "Doesn't your family have much?"

"We're a big family, and Dad…well, I reckon he should go to a higher-paying position."

"And what is his position now?"

"Misuse of Muggle Artifacts. Sometimes, some wizard tries to prank a Muggle, or harm them, by enchanting some object or other. Dad's Muggle-mad, but I don't think he understands half the stuff he looks at."

"Well, that's important, isn't it? I mean, Muggles may get hurt if things go badly."

"I guess, but it's apparently a bit of a joke, and underfunded. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand…and Percy, he's a prefect now, I've got his old rat." With that, Ron pulled out a rather fat, sleeping rat. "Meet Scabbers. Useless at just about everything but sleeping."

" _Harry,_ " Shadow said. " _I sense something…unusual about that rat. Be careful._ "

Trying to mask his unease, given Shadow's warning, Harry asked, intending to change the topic, "What House do you intend to go into?"

"Oh, Gryffindor all the way," Ron said proudly. His face fell shortly after that. "Fred and George, my twin brothers, say that whatever we do to get into the Houses, it hurts. I hope it's not Slytherin."

Harry nodded. After Hagrid and Solomon had told him about the Houses, he did his research on them. The four Houses of Hogwarts were founded by, and named for, the Founders of Hogwarts. Godric Gryffindor, a warrior as well as a wizard, favoured the brave and the bold. Rowena Ravenclaw, a scholar, favoured those who also valued learning and scholarly pursuit. Helga Hufflepuff favoured those who enjoyed hard work and showed loyalty. And Salazar Slytherin favoured those who used cunning and had great ambitions.

Unfortunately, Slytherin favoured those wizards and witches who were pureblooded or half-blooded. This was, admittedly, for good reasons at the time: magic-users were feared, and often hunted down in pogroms, and Muggleborn students did carry a risk of exposing secrets. But the other Founders also believed that Muggleborn magic-users would be seduced by magic's potential. A schism developed, and Slytherin had something of a bad reputation ever since. It didn't help that Voldemort, not to mention the majority of his supporters, came from Slytherin.

"Don't worry," Harry said with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "If you do get sorted into Slytherin, you'll make it better just by being there."

Ron scowled at that. Clearly, he'd sooner die than do that. "What about you?"

"Well, my parents were in Gryffindor. But the other Houses are fine enough. If I was put into Slytherin, I'd try my best to change it for the better. I mean, what's wrong with ambition and cunning?"

Ron shrugged. Clearly he wasn't interested in a philosophical discussion. And anything else said on the matter was interrupted when the door opened, and two other kids stood at the door. One of them was a girl with bushy brown hair, rather rabbit-like teeth, and an imperious look to her face. The other was a rather chubby boy who looked like he had been crying.

"Excuse me?" she asked. "Have either of you seen a toad?"

Ron and Harry looked at each other, before they shook their heads. "Sorry," Harry offered. "But…isn't there a summoning spell?"

"But that's a fourth year spell," Ron murmured.

The girl's eyes widened. "A prefect will know! Thanks! Come on, Neville!"

As they left, Ron muttered, "If I had a toad, I'd lose it as soon as I could. Then again, I have Scabbers, so I can't talk."

A few minutes later, the other two kids were back. The boy, Neville, was clutching at his toad like his life depended on it and exclaiming thanks. The girl looked at Harry, and said, "Thanks for your help. I didn't get your name earlier. I'm Hermione Granger, and this is Neville Longbottom."

"This is Ron Weasley. And I am…please don't stare, but I'm Harry Potter." He sighed, exasperated. "You're both staring."

"You're Harry Potter?" Hermione asked. "I've heard so much about you…"

At first, Harry was worried that the girl was a fangirl. Then, he realised, given the way she was talking about things, that she wasn't quite that bad. Just a know-it-all. "Breathe, please," he said, interrupting her flow of words. As she did so, he said, "You know all those books, Hermione? Only four people were present that night, the one when Voldemort attacked."

Ron and Neville's eyes were as wide as saucers. "Y-you said You Know Who's name."

"The taboo curse isn't there anymore," Harry said.

"Taboo?" Hermione asked.

"You know the saying 'speak of the devil and he shall appear'? Sort of like that, only the Death Eaters would appear. That's part of the reason why people are afraid to say Voldemort's name. The rest is, of course, was that he was a powerful evil wizard. Anyway, as I said, four people were there. Two definitely died, one…well, he either died or is impotent, and the other, well…" He indicated himself. "I was a baby, probably soiling my nappies."

This provoked a wave of giggles, and Hermione and Neville sat down with them. But any attempt at getting to discuss each other further was interrupted when the door to the compartment opened, and a blonde-haired boy entered, flanked by a pair of other boys whose lifelong vocation seemed to be minions, and who seemed like gorillas, only less intelligent. Harry groaned inwardly. He had met the boy briefly while getting his uniform, and he wasn't pleasant. He'd been told later by Solomon that the boy was Draco Malfoy, the son of one of the top nobles in Magical Britain, Lucius Malfoy. Lucius was said to be a Death Eater, but had claimed to be under the Imperius Curse, though more than a few people thought it BS.

"They say Harry Potter is in this compartment," Draco asked haughtily.

" _They_ say many things," Harry said facetiously. "Rumour mills aren't the best source of information. But it's right in this case." He waved his hands, and said, in a pseudo-cheerful tone, "Hi. I'm Harry Potter. And I know who you are now. You're Draco Malfoy, right?"

The boy smiled thinly, puffing himself up. "That's right." His eyes flickered over the carriage. Harry noted the recognition when he saw Ron and Neville, and the faint sneer at his mouth. An appraising look came to his face when he looked at Hermione, before he said, "This is Crabbe, and this is Goyle." He was referring to his minions. "You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go around making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

This attitude rankled at Harry, even as Malfoy put out his hand. Harry, pointedly, didn't take it. "Draco…if I may call you that…I don't need help with that." Deciding not to completely alienate the boy, Harry added, "But thank you for the offer all the same. And good luck at Hogwarts."

For a moment, Draco didn't seem to know whether to persist, insult Harry, or leave. Eventually, he nodded to his minions, and stepped out. But over his shoulder, he said, "Be careful, Potter. Your parents didn't know what was good for them either. And we know what happened to them."

As he left, Harry sighed. "Well, the nerve of him!" Hermione huffed. "Who does he think he is?"

"His father was a Death Eater, a supporter of Voldemort," Harry explained. "Claimed he was under the Imperius Curse. My uncle reckons that's rubbish." Remembering something from Hermione's talking earlier, he said, "You're Muggleborn, aren't you?"

"Well, yes. Why?"

"I'm guessing Draco shares his father's views on blood purity. He'd hate your guts."

"That's idiocy!" Hermione gasped.

"You won't argue with me," Harry said.

Hermione nodded, only to frown when she saw the Millennium Puzzle around his neck. "Harry…what is that thing? It looks Egyptian."

"It's something my uncle gave me," Harry said. "It's a good luck charm of sorts."

"Is it magical? What does it do?" Hermione asked.

"Well, let's just say I have a guardian angel watching over me of sorts…"

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Nothing much to say here, other than we're going through the stations of canon. Hope you enjoyed the look at Petunia's thoughts.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	34. Underground's Champion Chap 1 (Original)

**Given the _Undertale_ fics I've done lately, it's inevitable that I do a crossover of my own between Harry Potter and _Undertale_. But how to do it? There's a plethora of them involving Harry going through the same adventure as Frisk, with or without Frisk. There's a few other ones scattered here and there of different plots. But I eventually decided to do something very different. And it was sparked by a similar observation to one I had made prior to writing _Verdant Magic_. Undyne had red hair, and so too does Lily Potter. What if Lily was a Monster, somehow snatched from the Underground? What if she was Undyne's sister? And what would that mean for Harry?**

 **People will see the DNA of both _Verdant Magic_ and _Haemophilia_ in this. This is also a story with an evil Dumbledore, so fair warning to those who don't like Dumbledore bashing. If enough people like this initial chapter of the story, and I'm able to write more before Christmas, it will be posted with the Christmas Update. Oh, and for those familiar with _Undertale_ , there WILL be an explanation for Asriel and Chara's survival if you're confused. I do have some of it at the bottom of the page. For those who don't want any spoilers for _Undertale_ , well, stop reading right here.**

 **Incidentally, for anyone interested, I have two other _Undertale_ fics: _Dum Spiro Spero_ , a oneshot crossover with _FEAR_ with Alma adopted by the Dreemurrs, and _What Lies Beneath_ , a crossover with _Final Fantasy X_ that begins in the Underground (with Yuna and Paine raised by the Dreemurrs) but soon goes out into Spira, changing things before the events of the game proper.**

 **EDIT (December 6, 2016): Those paying attention to later contributions to _The Cauldron_ will have noticed that I had, originally, opted to not go through with this story. I have since decided on another version of this story, with significantly less bashing, no Harry as a Monster (save by adoption), no Lily as Undyne's sister, and a very interesting pairing. It will still be set during _The Goblet of Fire_ , Asriel and Chara will still be alive, and Harry, along with some others, will end up taken by the Goblet out of the Underground, destroying the Barrier in the process.**

 **In any case, this version of the first chapter of _Underground's Champion_ (which will be used for the next version of this story, as it's a good title and I enjoy confusing you lot anyway) will be marked as the original version. Keep an eye on _The Cauldron_ for the first chapter of the new version. And give my other _Undertale_ fics a go. Aside from the ones mentioned above, I have also posted a oneshot crossover with _Death Note_ , called _Queen of Spiders and Greatest Detective_. And there will be the first six chapters, at least, of another crossover story, though you'll have to wait until the Christmas Update to see what it is.**

* * *

 _ **UNDERGROUND'S CHAMPION (Original version)  
**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **KIDNAPPED  
**

 _James Potter was restrained on the floor of his son's nursery, at the non-existent mercy of his enemy. An enemy who had admitted to dabbling in the foulest of magic. Tinkering with the soul ranked amongst the darkest of the dark magics. An enemy who had engineered betrayal of the worst kind against him._

 _He stared into the face of the enemy. The inhuman face, noseless, the slit-pupilled eyes glaring down at him balefully. In their monstrous hand, they toyed with a wand, tapping it against the palm of their other hand. And then, in an all too-familiar voice, they said, "What am I going to do with you, James Potter? I mean, you have been a thorn in my side for a very long time. Thanks to you and that old wether(_ _1)_ _Dumbledore, I have suffered humiliation, time and time again. That's no way for a Pureblood to behave."_

 _James wanted to retort, but he couldn't, not with the Silencing Charm on him. He just glared defiantly at his enemy. It was all he could do._

 _"Then again, you'd do anything Dumbledore would ask you to do. You don't know that to him, you are a chess piece. Maybe not a pawn, but all chess pieces are, in the end, expendable, save for that of the king. I don't think Dumbledore cares about who or what he sacrifices, as long as he remains alive to be seen as the Leader of the Light." A scoff from his captor. "Using the moral high ground to mask his control of Magical Britain. Did you know he used to suck Grindlewald off? Well, near enough. He has the same obsession as Grindlewald did over the Greater Good, but he hides it, and he thinks the Greater Good is what he thinks of as good. The sad thing is, too many good people follow him. Hagrid, the Weasleys, the Longbottoms…good people, deluded and blinded by that old goat."_

 _James wanted to snarl at his foe. Dumbledore had given him a wife and a child! He had promised so much, in exchange for helping him. How dare this vile thing demean that?_

 _"You have hurt me and humiliated me for the last time, James Potter. And now, you're going to pay the price." With a wave of their wand, James was on his feet, staring into the eyes of his nemesis. His foe._

 _His_ _ **wife**_ _._

 _No, not his wife. The thing that used to be his wife, even if she still had the red hair and the green eyes. His wife didn't have blue scales for skin, her eyes didn't have slit-pupils even while emerald, her hands didn't have webs between the fingers, which didn't have claws, and her mouth certainly wasn't full of shark-like teeth. A Monster._

 _The thing that was once Lily Potter, née Evans, glared into his eyes. "It wasn't enough that Dumbledore snatched me away from my family, my people. I had a happy life…but then, you and Dumbledore came along and used Amortentia on me. Even though conceiving while under the influence carries the risk of the child not knowing how to love. He wanted to create his own little weapon. My son. This prophecy has thrown a wrench into things, and that ritual he had me look into…he's hoping I would sacrifice myself to save my son. But I'm not going to, James. You are. I've already discussed this with Sirius and Remus. Oh yes, they know about the Amortentia. Sirius may be an idiot who doesn't really know about boundaries, but he knows you crossed the line. He's not happy with this…but he knows the truth, and so does Remus. Once Voldemort is dealt with, I'm heading back home, and taking my son, and your ex-friends with me."_

 _James wanted to scream, to roar, to denounce his treacherous friends. But he couldn't move, he couldn't scream. Instead, he could only wait for the end. He caught a glimpse, out of the corner of his eye, of his son…except that blue-scaled thing couldn't be his son. No, that thing was just a Monster…_

* * *

Hariacmon(2) 'Harry' Evans smiled to himself as he walked through Waterfall, back to his home, his family's home. He had just been visiting Sans and Papyrus in Snowdin. He knew his aunt got annoyed by Papyrus' overwhelming and loud enthusiasm, as well as Sans' bad puns, but the two skeletons were good guys. His aunt knew that, she just had a bit of a clash of personality with them.

Also, thanks to his aunt, he was something of a minor celebrity, if only because he was her family. She was head of the Royal Guard and at a young age to boot, seen as a prodigy. She was seen as the right hand of King Asgore, and, upon their reconciliation, Queen Toriel too.

Speak of the devil…there they were now, the royal family, barring Asgore himself, walking along the path. He knew they were coming to visit for dinner. Toriel Dreemurr, her biological son Asriel, and her adopted son Chara. A bit of a motley crew, to say the least. Especially as the latter two had, for a time, been dead.

Toriel and Asriel looked, for all the world, like humanoid goats. White fur covered the exposed parts of their bodies, they had long floppy ears and long snouts. Both had a pair of fangs poking out of their mouths, in a manner that managed to look endearing rather than sinister. Both had horns, though Toriel's were pretty short, and Asriel's were rather long. Toriel was dressed in a tabard embroidered with the Delta Rune, the sign of the Underground, and a depiction of a prophecy. Asriel was dressed rather more casually, in a green and yellow striped shirt and black trousers, as was Chara.

In terms of appearance, Chara was very different, though that was probably because he was a human. Or at least he had been once. He still had the outward look of a human, but there was something vaguely unearthly about him. Short brown hair framed androgynous features, and red eyes peered out from beneath his fringe. Both he and Asriel were now in their twenties, and acted as big brothers to Harry. Toriel was like a second mother.

Harry couldn't say they were odd, though. All monsters were odd, and he was no exception. He had the same blue scales as his mother and aunt, and the same green eyes as his mother, though he had the messy black hair of his…sperm donor. He had the lithe body of an athlete. A jagged, lightning bolt-shaped scar marred his forehead, though it was fading.

As usual, it was Asriel who noticed him first, and greeted him. "Howdy, Harry! We were just coming over."

" _They_ wanted to," Chara corrected his adopted brother. "I just got dragged along for the ride."

"Don't be rude, Chara," Toriel chided.

"Or what, are you going to use those bad puns you've practised with Sans on me?" Chara asked with a roll of his eyes. "They may cause an allergic reaction in some people, but not me."

"Chara, Padfoot's with Alphys at his old home. They took Fawkes. They're hoping that they'll find something in the Black Library that will help destroy the Barrier," Harry said. "And Moony's off helping Mettaton with his new special."

Chara relaxed ever-so-slightly. Death and revival only worsened his misanthropy, specifically towards humans. Then again, over time, while he never truly let go of his hatred, it had lessened significantly. Exposure to Sirius and Remus helped, though he still felt ill at ease around them. Then again, he mostly tolerated the latter because he was a werewolf, almost a Monster by default.

Harry wasn't sure whether he was friends with Chara. The two got along well enough, despite Harry being only half-Monster. But Harry was more friends with Asriel than he was with Chara. And to be fair, Chara tended to keep to himself when he wasn't with his family. This was partly because of the attitude towards humans in the Underground, but mostly because of Chara's rather antisocial demeanour.

"It'd be Halloween on the surface tonight," Harry remarked. "That's what Mum told me."

Chara snorted. "Probably one of the few times that nobody would look askance at the Monsters. They'd probably think they were good costumes or something."

"It's practically a national holiday with the wizards and witches, all because Voldemort was vanquished," Harry said. He scowled. If it weren't for his mother recovering her true nature, he might have been orphaned, and kept unaware of his true heritage. He wasn't a fool: he knew that there were good humans, despite what Chara thought. But the thought of being kept ignorant of what he was…

They had come to their house, vaguely looking like an angry fish's head. As was her wont to do, even on a day off, his aunt was doing training exercises. "NGAAAAH!" she screamed as she sent a blizzard of magic spears at a training dummy, turning it into scattered rags and stuffing.

"Enthusiastic as always, Undyne?" Toriel asked.

Undyne turned to look at Toriel, and then smiled. Their relationship, when they first met, had been a bit rocky at first: by the time Undyne had joined the Royal Guard, Toriel had already exiled herself to the Ruins, over reasons that Undyne considered cowardly. It was Harry's mother who helped not only bridge the gap between the two and allow them to reconcile, but also begin repairing the relationship between the Dreemurrs. The fact that both Asriel and Chara were miraculously brought back from the dead helped.

While Toriel did prefer to stay in the Ruins, acting as a guardian of sorts, she travelled often, and while her relationship with Asgore was still distant, it was better than it had been, especially with the expeditions to the Black family home to find another way to destroy the Barrier. At least Asgore had, given Asriel and Chara's revival, been able to retract his declaration of war against humanity, even if he was still determined to break the Barrier. Hell, the only reason Sirius was allowed to live here was if he willed his soul to Asgore so that his soul could be used to break the Barrier.

"You know it, Toriel," Undyne said with a grin. It took her a while to stop calling Toriel Queen too. Undyne looked a lot like Harry's mother, with the red hair and all, though Undyne had a single golden eye, the other, due to injury, covered up by an eyepatch. She was also a bit more muscled. "Lily's inside, cooking up a storm. I'm jealous of how great she is at cooking."

"I brought along my butterscotch cinnamon pie," Toriel said. "I only wish Alphys was here. I had some of those snacks she enjoys."

Toriel's relationship with the Royal Scientist had also been strained, considering the experiments she had been involved in, including one that led to her son being revived as a soulless but still sentient flower. Only Alphys' regret and Asriel forgiving the reptilian scientist brought their relationship to an even keel, and Toriel took on a mothering role to Alphys.

They entered, including Undyne, to find the house permeated with delicious smells from the kitchen. His mother was just finishing bringing things to the table, and she smiled when she saw Toriel and her family. "Hey, Toriel, Asriel, Chara! Nice to have you all here!"

"It's good to be here, Lily," Toriel said. It took her a while to stop using her birth name, which was Lilethe(3), rather than Lily. That had been Dumbledore's contribution, upon seeing the name stitched into her blanket.

* * *

As they began to have their meal, Asriel said, "Didn't Uncle Sirius say that the Tri-Wizard Tournament's happening at Hogwarts?"

"Yeah, though I dunno why," Undyne said. "I looked at those books Lily and Sirius brought back. You know, know thy enemy and all that crap. They banned it years ago because it got too bloody dangerous. And yet, they're bringing it back. Sirius told me that one of the guys in charge was the guy who looked set to chuck him into Azkaban. Farty Crunch or something?"

"Barty Crouch Senior, Undyne," Lily corrected her older sister gently.

"Nah, my version's better. Sirius' all right for a human. Anyway, the other is some punch-drunk former Quidditch star. But to be honest, I think there's something wrong. I mean, after that riot at the Quidditch World Cup we heard of, with those former Death Eaters and the Dark Mark, well, something's going on. Just a gut feeling I have."

"We all have them," Lily said. "You, me, Padfoot, Moony…Voldemort is still out there. Especially given what we know about his Horcruxes."

Chara snorted. "So? Voldemort's not our problem."

"He's been defeated by Harry once, Chara, as I have told you before," Toriel said. "Someone like Voldemort cannot countenance such a thing. His ego won't allow it. If he ever finds out that Harry is in the Underground…and that's without going into the innocent lives he will destroy."

"Innocent," Chara scoffed quietly. He didn't say anything further, though he got up from the table.

However, shortly thereafter, Harry convulsed. He was sitting with Asriel and Undyne next to him, and as Chara passed, blue fire flared around the four of them. Suddenly, in a flare of azure light, they vanished, leaving Lily and Toriel to gape.

Shortly after that, Toriel's phone rang. She frowned when she saw the phone number, that of Mettaton, and answered it. In a distant voice, she said, "Mettaton, I'll need to call you back. Something bad has just happened." Lily watched as her friend's eyes widened in shock. "What do you mean, the Barrier just shattered?!"

* * *

In the Great Hall of Hogwarts, something big was happening. Not just the drawing of the three Champions from the schools of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. No, this was about to overshadow that. They knew this when the Goblet of Fire spat out a fourth name, a name only two people in that hall had been expecting, even if they didn't show it. They showed shock and surprise, especially when the name on that slip of paper was read out by Professor Dumbledore.

"Harry Potter?"

The silence that followed was so thick, it could be cut with a knife. It was the calm before the storm. Harry Potter? The Boy Who Lived? The Boy Who Disappeared? Kidnapped by Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, foul traitors to the Potters?

Suddenly, there was a flare of blue flame near the Goblet of Fire. For a time, the azure flames flicked in a massive patch of fire on the stone floor, before finally, with a loud crack of noise like thunder, it dissipated, revealing a quartet of…people?

One of them was human enough, though the red eyes that peered out in anger from underneath a fringe of brown hair suggested otherwise. But there was a goat-like being, and a pair of fish-like people, one in his teens, the other apparently in her twenties.

It seemed that the Tri-Wizard Tournament had gotten even more complicated…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and yes, Chara and Asriel's resurrection will be discussed in detail soon. However, for those wanting details already, Chara's soul is his own (long story) while Asriel has the soul of James Potter. Originally, it was in Harry to protect him from Voldemort, but after finding Flowey and finding out who he was, they managed to transfer James Potter's soul into Flowey, allowing him to become Asriel again. We'll look at the details later.**

 **What abilities does Harry have as a monster? You'll see, but he takes after his aunt as much as his mother. Lily's more able to use magic in general than Undyne, and has a specialty that links in to shifting souls. Harry has a similar ability to Undyne in that he can create weapons out of magic, though he creates swords in a not dissimilar manner to Virgil from** ** _Devil May Cry_** **.**

 **We'll also discuss how and why Lily became Lily Evans, and was married off to James Potter.**

 **1\. Wether, as mentioned in previous works I wrote, is a name for a castrated goat. I thought it a perfect insult for Dumbledore, even in works where I don't bash him.**

 **2\. Why Hariacmon? That sounds like a Digimon, but in fact, it's a variation of Haliacmon, the name of a Greek deity associated with a river. It's a bit of a stretch, but it fits in with Undyne's name…**

 **3\. Why Lilethe? Well, it sounds close to Lilith, and Lethe is both the name of a river that causes amnesia to those who drink from it, and the name of a deity of forgetfulness (which ties in neatly into Lily not knowing what she actually was for much of her life).**


	35. Ignis Aurum Probat Chapter 1

**I was surprised at the reaction _Shadows Games and Philosopher's Stones_ got. I have to confess, I have no interest in continuing it at this time. Writing Harry Potter fanfic is actually beginning to pall somewhat, and I grew bored of writing Year One fanfics some time ago. I also have to say sorry to anyone who enjoyed that initial chapter of _Underground's Champion_ : I realised once I had written it that I wouldn't be able to sustain my interest writing it. I also made some mistakes in the worldbuilding of the story, and if _Underground's Champion_ ever does see the light of day, it will be in a somewhat modified form to ensure the story makes sense. For those actually wanting some _Undertale_ fiction, feel free to read my crossover with _Final Fantasy X_ , _What Lies Beneath_. Oh, and keep an eye out during the Christmas Update for a new _Undertale_ crossover that I think has a lot of potential.**

 **Another story idea that I think has a lot of potential is this one. Given the popularity of _Shadow Games and Philosopher's Stones_ , I had a thought, what would be a Harry Potter/ _Yu-Gi-Oh!_ crossover I wouldn't mind writing? As much as having Harry have possession of the Millennium Puzzle had potential, I decided to have a story where an adult Harry's life intersected with the lives of the _Yu-Gi-Oh!_ characters, as I haven't done as many post-Hogwarts Harry stories that aren't Master of Death ones. I also decided to base it mostly on the manga, though have elements of both anime adaptations (including some of the dub names), along with _Yu-Gi-Oh! The Abridged Series_. The start of this story is just after Seto Kaiba has his first defeat in the manga. Oh, and I'm shipping Harry with Mai, as is made fairly clear in this first chapter. Depending on the response, this may yet be published as part of the Christmas Update. Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

 _ **IGNIS AURUM PROBAT**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **MEETING MAI**

Harry couldn't resist a snort of amusement as the blonde-haired woman took her victim to the cleaners again. She was one of the many dealers in the casino on the cruise ship, and clearly, she was chosen for more than being drop-dead gorgeous. Though that was clearly a factor in hiring her: her well-endowed figure doubtlessly helped distract her opponents, especially as she was just dressed in a leotard, a white coat with tails, and fishnet stockings. She had an odd combination of blonde hair, the epicanthic folds of an Asian, and purple eyes that managed to give her an air of exotic beauty. She seemed to be about his age.

But she was clearly an excellent player of card games of all kinds as well, from the standard ones like blackjack and poker, to even collectable card games like _Duel Monsters_. In fact, that particular game was what she was playing with the current sucker, a florid-faced overweight man who reminded Harry too much of his Uncle Vernon. Oh, she was cheating, in her own way, but it was probably allowed by the owners of the cruise ship to get more people out of their money. He had cottoned onto her secret some time ago. He would have called her out on it, but most of those she used it on were rich idiots who had some way of pissing Harry off. Acting like Malfoy, acting like his relatives, acting like so many he could name. Getting bilked out of what was probably a relatively small part of their monies by a beautiful woman was probably karmic retribution.

It had been a hobby of the past few days during the cruise to Egypt (the journey was pleasure, though the destination was all-business) to watch this woman playing games, once she caught his eye. He had to admit, few women did nowadays, and the ones who did were married. Ever since his rather acrimonious break-up with Ginny, he couldn't find anyone whom he liked, who weren't attached. Hermione and Luna topped that small list, and Hermione had married a Muggle scientist, and was working for some big company in Japan, while Luna was married to Neville, of all people. Harry Potter was Magical Britain's number one eligible bachelor. The problem is, he also had standards, much to the annoyance of many fangirl fiancées. And Ginny had not managed to look beyond the Boy Who Lived myth. Few in Magical Britain ever did.

As the woman's victim decided to cut his losses and leave, her eyes, purple in colour, met his own. She smirked, and crooked a finger. Harry sighed. He had been sitting at the bar, nursing a cocktail, so he came over. As he approached, she said, in an American-accented purr, "You've been sitting there a few nights now, watching me play. Should I call over a bouncer to remove a stalker?"

"I dunno. I'm not really interested in pissing my money away through gambling, though, even if the croupier is a looker. Though I'm surprised that adults bother playing _Duel Monsters_ ," Harry said. "It's a kid's game."

"You could say that about a lot of collectable card games," the woman said with a smile. "Odd thing is, you say you don't gamble, but your eyes tell a different tale. You probably don't gamble in casinos, but in other areas, well, that's another matter." She looked pointedly at his sleeve. "I may have nothing up my sleeve, but you have a wand holster in yours."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "How do you know?"

"I'm a Squib. And I'm guessing you're a Cursebreaker, heading out to Egypt. A few Cursebreakers who haven't got the ten-foot Pureblood stick up their ass take these cruises, unless they're in a hurry. I've met a couple before."

Harry nodded. She got that much right. Bill Weasley, after Harry's breakup with Ginny, had offered to take him under his wing and make him a Cursebreaker for Gringotts. The Goblins were a bit reluctant at first, given the chaos Harry and company caused during their search for the Horcruxes, but some gold from Harry's vault helped smooth things over. And the Goblins realised they had a publicity coup in recruiting the Boy Who Lived…especially once it came out that he had experience in destroying dark artifacts like Horcruxes. He was heading to Egypt to meet Bill, who had taken time off raising his family with Fleur and had wanted to introduce him to a few key figures in Magical Egypt, people he was expected to liaise with while excavating tombs. The names Bill mentioned included Isis Ishtar, as well as a man called Shadi, said to be a man who punished any tomb raiders.

"Do you usually talk to them?"

"They're usually more interesting than most. I'm Mai Valentine," she said.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Your parents must have hated you. ' _My valentine_ '?"

Mai snorted. "It's saner than half of the names in the Wizarding World. I mean, in Magical Britain, you have Gilderoy Lockhart, Bellatrix Lestrange, Arsenius Jigger…and of course, Voldemort. Seriously, that's ' _flight from death_ ' in French. Anyway, it was a choice between my father's name, and my mother's name, Kujaku. She was a Japanese Halfblood. And while Kujaku sounds nice, it means 'peacock' in Japanese. I prefer Valentine as a last name(1)."

"Oh. Sorry to hear that. I'm Harry Potter."

"I knew. Or rather, I guessed since I first saw you. It's a bit hard to mistake you, given how you've been plastered over just about every magical newspaper out there for your whole life, even if your bangs conceal your scar. And half of what they write is full of trash. Can't blame you for wanting to be incognito. Besides, it's not like you're the first celebrity to travel on this ship."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "I'd like to _stay_ incognito if possible."

"That's fine. They don't usually have magicals on this ship. I won't go advertising it. That being said, I have a price to pay. Call it a viewing fee for gawping at me for so long," she said with a smirk.

Harry sighed. "And what price is that?"

"Play a game of _Duel Monsters_ ," Mai said. "No stake. Just a round of the game itself."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Just don't expect me to win. I don't know much about this game. Plus, I know your secret."

"Oh?" Mai asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You spray differing perfumes on your cards so that you know what card comes up next. I only found out because I wondered whether you were using magic or something to win so often, so I cast a spell on them to find out what it was. You must have a good nose to tell the difference between them."

"Thank you. Don't get me wrong, I can win card games easily enough without the help, but the owners of the cruise ship turn a blind eye to me using what I like to call Aroma-Tactics. They even let me keep a portion of the winnings. Not that I need it. My parents left me a lot of money." Her face fell at that, and Harry realised that her parents must have died.

"Sorry to hear that."

"Yeah. I know you are, because you went through the same thing. I even heard about where you were raised. I was lucky enough to stay in my family home, not to mention knowing my parents before they died." Mai sighed, before she indicated a number of card decks. "House decks. While you're a novice, I recommend that one. It'd be the one that'd give my Harpy Deck the most problems. I do want something of a challenge…"

* * *

As it turned out, it wasn't much of one. Harry did grasp the rules of _Duel Monsters_ pretty quickly, as well as the concept of Trap and Magic cards, but while he managed to get some good hits in, Mai managed to defeat him rather quickly. "One of the reasons I chose the Harpy Deck is that I can summon the Harpies to the field quickly, and, if I play my cards right, I can destroy traps, as you saw," she said with a smile once they concluded the game. "Don't worry, you did well for your first game, and I've played against supposedly more experienced players who did far worse than you did."

"You've put more thought than most people would into this game," Harry said.

"Actually, I'm probably at 'Professor' level, unofficially. They call _Duel Monsters_ experts 'Professors'. The current American champion used to be 'Bandit' Keith Howard, but he's dropped out of the public eye after a loss to Maximillian Pegasus a month or so ago."

"Pegasus…isn't that the guy who's the creator of _Duel Monsters_? The guy in charge of Industrial Illusions? He's not magical, is he?"

Mai snorted. "With a name like that, you'd think so, wouldn't you? I think he's a No-Maj, what you Brits call Muggles, but I've heard rumours that he works with Gringotts in funding archaeological expeditions in Egypt. There was even a rumour he was inspired to create _Duel Monsters_ after a visit to Egypt."

"Great. And I'm heading there."

"Why that tone?"

"What, the tone of exasperation and dread?" Harry asked. When Mai nodded, Harry said, "If you know anything about my life, you know that I tend to attract trouble."

"…Fair enough. I have heard a few shady things about Pegasus. Remember how I said that he beat Bandit Keith? Well, what he actually did was pick a kid from the audience, write a strategy on a piece of paper, and have the kid follow the strategy. Some people think that Pegasus somehow cheated, finding out what cards Bandit Keith had. I think so too. I know card cheating, and not just because I do it myself. As a croupier, I have to look for cheaters and card counters."

"I once read about a couple of techniques in that James Bond book, _Moonraker(_ _2)_."

"Well, I know more than Ian Fleming wrote about in that. Anyway, I looked at recordings from every angle. How he knew, I have no idea, but he did. Even Seto Kaiba doesn't know, and he was there. I once spoke to him about it on the _Duel Monsters_ circuit at the Japanese championships."

"Seto Kaiba? Wait, that's that kid who's in charge of Kaiba Corporation, right?"

"Yeah, him. Adopted son of Gozaburo after his biological son died(3), along with a younger brother called Mokuba. Seto's apparently a wunderkind as far as _Duel Monsters_ is concerned, not to mention business and technology. He's a genius, but he's also a rather nasty bastard apparently. He's a bit like a Pureblood, if he was a wizard. I heard people say that his unofficial motto is ' _Screw the Rules, I have Money(_ _4)_ '."

Harry snorted. "Sounds like just about every rich Pureblood back home. Kingsley's cut down on graft, but he hasn't managed to remove it completely."

"I hear that. It's as bad back home with the MACUSA at times. It was illegal to marry No-Majs until some decades ago," Mai said.

* * *

They talked like that for a little while longer, before someone else came up to the games table, looking to play a game. Harry took that as a dismissal and left. He had to admit, for all her sexualised appearance and sardonic attitude, he actually liked Mai. She was intelligent, wasn't in awe of his celebrity, and had the same cheerfully anti-authoritarian views as he did.

Over the next few days, they saw each other more. Mai seemed to enjoy talking to someone who wasn't intent on getting into her pants (well, leotard) and who shared her cynical views about the world in general, and wizards and witches in particular. Harry certainly enjoyed talking to a beautiful woman his age who knew his reputation but didn't view him with awe (well, save for a little for actually beating Voldemort at the end of it all), and who had quite the knowledge about _Duel Monsters_. He still wasn't that interested in the game per se, but the lore and strategy involved was intriguing.

He had to admit, he was actually sorry when they arrived at Port Said, where he had to disembark. Mai, in a surprising gesture, had given him her email address. " _When I'm not working on cruise ships, I'm generally on the American or Japanese_ Duel Monsters _tournament circuits_ ," she had said. " _So, don't be a stranger._ "

He had promised not to. As he passed through Customs (through a special Magical section), he thought back to her. There was something about Mai that had drawn him to her, aside from her figure. He didn't believe in love at first sight: Ginny had, but it was far from mutual. She clearly trusted him enough to give him an email address. He had a laptop Hermione had modified, along with a modem years ahead of anything else.

Of course, Mai would have to wait, he reflected, as he emerged from Customs to find his welcoming committee waiting for him. The first was the familiar sight of Bill Weasley, still with Fenrir Greyback's claw marks on his face and that dragon fang earring. The second was rather unfamiliar, a man in what looked like desert clothing, loose white robes and a turban. He wore large hoop earrings, and on his chest was a massive ankh ornament, seemingly made of gold, hanging from a loop of cord around his neck. His most distinctive features, however, were his blue eyes. A contrast with his brown skin, they seemed paradoxically dull and yet piercing, tired and yet perceptive.

Harry approached them, grateful for the enchantments to his glasses Hermione made that could tell whether someone was a Polyjuice impostor, or under the influence of the Imperius. Nobody here, thankfully, was in that state. Considering that some children of Death Eaters or followers of Pureblood ideology would want him dead, it was a reasonable precaution. "Bill, it's good to see you!"

"And you, Harry," Bill said, shaking his hand with a smile. "I can't stay very long, Fleur's expecting our second child soon."

"So Victoire's brother or sister will be coming soon?" Harry asked. "Good to hear." He turned his attention to the other man. "Sorry for ignoring you, sir."

"It is no problem," the man said in a quiet voice. "The reunion of friends is a joy to behold."

"Harry, this is Shadi, the man I told you about."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Shadi," Harry said, proffering his hand, which the Egyptian took with a small smile.

"Likewise, Harry Potter. I consider William to be a good friend and valued colleague. Given how highly he speaks of you, I hope that we can be too. Of course, there is the test I must administer before you become wholly trusted."

Harry sighed. "Of course there's one. Is it potentially lethal?"

"Only to those with greed and darkness dominating their hearts. I believe you will pass the test, Harry," Shadi said, before adding ominously, "Of course, the trials that will come with your work may be another matter…"

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, there you have it. Harry's met Mai and Shadi, and Shadi is going to administer a test to Harry. Fans of the manga will doubtless know what that test is. Keep in mind, this story will modify the manga's story, blending it with elements of the anime. I don't intend for Death-T to happen, for example, as that makes the Kaibas less redeemable than they are in the anime. And when I say the anime, for all the pedants out there, I mean the second adaptation, the one actually released in the US. I don't mean Season Zero, the fan name given to the first adaptation.**

 **1\. This is what Mai's Japanese name means. To any** ** _Final Fantasy_** **fans, does that sound familiar? Yep, the name of the main villain from Final Fantasy IX, Kuja was a reference to** ** _kujaku_** **. Given how he acts like a peacock, well…**

 **2\. This was one of the things that stuck with me about this novel. Bond mentions working with a card sharp to learn various ways of cheating so that he could spot cheaters. He learns that Hugo Drax is what they call a** ** _shiner_** **, using a polished cigarette case as a mirror to see the cards as he deals them while playing Bridge. Incidentally, the novel** ** _Moonraker_** **is actually closer to the plot of the Bond film** ** _Die Another Day_** **than it was to the film** ** _Moonraker_** **.**

 **3\. My little nod to Noah. I doubt I'll be including that Virtual World arc in this story, but I thought Noah was a nice little addition to the Kaiba family dynamic.**

 **4\. Yep, I did reference that meme from** ** _Yu-Gi-Oh! The Abridged Series_** **. Deal with it.**


	36. Ignis Aurum Probat Chapter 2

**Well, it seems that the first chapter of _Ignis Aurum Probat_ got some interest. Hopefully, I will post it as a full story come the Christmas Update. No promises, though. For those of you interested in what other stories are being updated, have a look at my profile.**

* * *

 _ **IGNIS AURUM PROBAT**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **THE MILLENNIUM ITEMS**

After leaving the port, they used a combination of Apparition and vehicles to travel far into the desert, into an area with vast ruins from a bygone age of Egypt. Harry was struck by the poem by Percy Shelley, _Ozymandias_. "Look upon my works, ye mighty, and despair," he murmured as they walked towards a hatch in the ground.

"Many of the monuments of Egypt have stood the test of time and tide," Shadi said. "We work with Gringotts to ensure that some things are uncovered to allow our people, and the peoples of the world, to gain an appreciation for our past. We also work to ensure that some things remain buried forever."

"Like what?" Harry asked.

A faint, sardonic smile touched Shadi's features. "You'll see." He opened the hatch, and then walked down a staircase thus revealed.

The stone passageways revealed were lit by torches, the light flickering in the darkness. Shadi led them through passages, until they came to a rather homely room with a table. Waiting there for them was an Egyptian woman, an elegantly beautiful woman about Harry's age, perhaps a little younger, but carrying herself with a maturity beyond her years. "Shadi," she said with a brief bow. "William. I presume this is Harry Potter?"

"Indeed. Harry Potter, this is Isis Ishtar, the current leader of the Tomb Keepers. She is also Secretary General of the Egyptian Supreme Council of Antiquities."

"She may be young, but she's very good at what she does for her age," Bill said.

Harry proffered a hand, which Isis shook. "Pleased to meet you," he said.

"And you. I have heard much about you from William."

"Isis," Shadi said quietly. "I must administer the test." From his robes, he plucked a set of scales, apparently made out of gold, with an eye-like symbol at the fulcrum. "What do you know of Egyptian mythology, Harry?"

"I know some things here and there. Bill had me bone up on it before coming here." He frowned when he saw the scales. "Wait a moment…isn't this like the Weighing of the Heart in Ancient Egyptian mythology? My heart versus the Feather of…Ma'at, wasn't it?"

"Indeed," Shadi said, plucking a feather from where it was stuck in his turban, and placing it on the scales.

Harry groaned. He had a bad feeling about this. "So…if I don't answer the right way, I'll get my heart eaten by a homicidal crocodile monster?"

"Yes. Rather, it is answering correctly and truthfully that will have you passing this test. William has passed the test, so I daresay you should be able to. The Millennium Scales give me the ability to test your soul. Now, to begin. A young girl falls into a well. You are the only one to see it happen. But at your feet is an expensive gold ring she was wearing. What do you do?"

"I save her, of course," Harry said. "And give her her ring."

Shadi peered at the scales, which only twitched. "Many have answered that question that way, but few told the truth," he said.

The test continued, before finally, Shadi declared it over. The scales tipped back and forth very slightly during them. After it was over, Shadi removed the feather and placed it back onto his turban. "You are truly fortunate, Harry Potter. Few have passed this test, this Shadow Game, as well as you had. William was one of the few."

"Shadow Game? This was a game to you?" Harry demanded, annoyed.

"Shadow Games are games in deadly earnest, Harry. I took no pleasure from that, save for knowing you passed. Had you not, you would have suffered a Penalty Game. In Shadow Games, the loser undergoes a forfeit known as a Penalty Game. Sometimes, the consequences are lethal, as with this one: Ammit would have devoured your soul. Sometimes, the consequences are not lethal, but fit the offence. And others allow the victim a chance to mend their evil ways."

Bill sighed, before getting up from his chair. "I'm glad you passed, Harry. This is where I have to get going. Shadi and Isis will handle things for now."

"Why didn't you tell me about this?" Harry demanded, annoyed that he had yet another near-death experience.

"Because he was ordered not to," Isis said. "Do not blame William. Anything to do with the Millennium Items is no laughing matter. We were also confident of you passing the test. You must understand, Harry, that there is significant secrecy around the Millennium Items, and with good reason. They surpass in power and danger the Deathly Hallows of Magical Britain. We need to ensure that anyone working with us is trustworthy, not necessarily pure of heart, but without avarice in their hearts. My father, in his arrogance, never trusted outsiders to help. It was thanks to his actions that a number of Millennium Items are now missing, not to mention losing his life and fragmenting my family."

"So you should understand the need for discretion," Shadi said. "I had every confidence you would pass. Only those who possess the Items, or associate with them, would not have to pass such a test. Then again, if one is unworthy and tries to possess a Millennium Item…they die."

Bill went over to Harry, and gave him a brief hug. "Don't worry, Harry, you'll do fine. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay. Say hello to Fleur for me. I'll send letters by owl to the others."

Bill nodded, and they said their farewells, before he left. Shadi then returned his attention to Harry. "Perhaps we should begin by explaining the Millennium Items," Shadi said. "There are seven in total, and only those worthy can wield them. I possess the Scales, as you saw, and this is the Millennium Key." He held up the ankh-like object around his neck, which Harry realised did look like a key. "If this makes contact with a person, I am able to enter their mind with ease, no matter what their ability with Occlumency may be. I can view their Soul Room, a manifestation of their memories and personality. I can even rearrange their Soul Room to make them my puppet, though I can revert that just as easily. I use it in conjunction with the Scales to judge those who desecrate the tombs of the dead."

"I possess the Millennium Tauk," Isis said, and Harry actually noticed the necklace around her neck, with the eye symbol that the Scales had. "It gives me the ability to see along the stream of time, and grant myself and others visions of both past and possible futures."

"The Millennium Eye is in the possession of Maximillian Pegasus, the head of Industrial Illusions," Shadi said. "We believe the current whereabouts of the Millennium Rod to be in the hands of Isis' brother, a rogue Tomb Keeper by the name of Marik. The exact whereabouts of the Millennium Ring and the Millennium Puzzle are currently unknown, but I believe them to be in Japan."

Harry frowned. "If these items are so dangerous, why are three of them loose?"

"My brother Marik was destined to become the leader of the Tomb Keepers, and he found the Rod where we have kept it. He leads a group of tomb raiders and thieves called the Ghouls," Isis said. "In retrospect, there is more I could have done to stop him from following the path he does. Sadly, I cannot change the past. As for the other Millennium Items, they were lost during my grandfather and father's time leading the Tomb Keepers. They were even more isolationist than most of us, for we are bound to protect these ruins and the tombs."

"Of note is the Tomb of the Nameless Pharaoh," Shadi said. "The Millennium Items were forged during his father's reign, and that period of history was the height of the Shadow Games. It was the Nameless Pharaoh who sealed away the Millennium Items and the Shadow Games, though the Items still yearn for destined masters."

"And the Shadow Games?"

"Dark magical games of mortal combat. Many were not dissimilar to _Duel Monsters_ , though that is harmless by comparison. Unless a Millennium Item is involved. Then, the loser will have to undergo a Penalty Game. The game itself can be brought into a dark dimension known as the Shadow Realm. Any game can. Not all Shadow Games are lethal, true, but that depends on the one who makes a game a Shadow Game. In fact, many were used as a form of trial by ordeal, like what I did to you with the Millennium Scales, to determine guilt or innocence."

"Okay, so, dangerous magical artifacts, can make games more dangerous than they have to be. I get that. I'm guessing there's a reason for this, aside from telling me about forbidden artifacts."

"Indeed. As I said, I suspect two of the Millennium Items to reside in Japan. The tomb containing the Millennium Puzzle was excavated years ago. It fell into the hands of a man called Sugoroko 'Solomon' Muto, who had retired from archaeology to run a games shop in Domino City in Japan. I had let the matter go, as the Puzzle will not let itself be assembled by any but the worthy, and nobody who has attempted to do so has managed to assemble it. However, I have heard reports of possible Shadow Games in Domino over the last couple of months. Gringotts has agreed to loan you out as an agent of ours. I intended to head to Domino soon to confront Curator Kanekura of the Domino City Museum. While he has been involved in many legitimate expeditions, he is also well-connected to tomb raiders and the black market. He performed an excavation recently with a Professor Yoshimori that was not in consultation with us," Shadi said. "Indeed, he bribed many officials in the Egyptian government to keep us out of the loop, and had a few killed. We have…punished them. I intend to travel to Japan to confront both Kanekura and Yoshimori."

"But where do I come into it?"

"The first is that I would like you to help me find out whether the Millennium Puzzle has been assembled, and by who. The second, should that be the case, is to be our liaison in Domino with the bearer of the Puzzle. Given that you had once lived with a prophecy hanging over your head, it would behove the bearer of the Puzzle to have someone who can guide them who knows what that is like, as there are prophecies surrounding the Puzzle too. And those with the Puzzle also tend to be magnets for trouble."

"Great. Just my luck," Harry remarked, sighing in annoyed resignation. "So you want me to keep an eye on them, then?"

"Yes. William recommended you highly, considering you a person of great integrity, bravery, and compassion," Isis said. "And there are times when the Tomb Keepers cannot be seen as acting directly. Many in the Wizarding World see us as dark because of our association with the Millennium Items, as well as harsh punishments to thieves and tomb raiders. We are known to most DMLEs around the world, but some elements would wish to kill us, or even exploit the Millennium Items. And, of course, there is the barbaric practise my family put its heirs through, something many wizards look askance at. The firstborn son must have a tattoo of a specific set of hieroglyphs carved into their backs using the ritual dagger within the Millennium Rod. My father was a proud, cruel, and ruthless man, and in retrospect, I wish I had done more for my brother."

"What actually happened to him?" Harry asked, seeing the pain in her eyes, as well as the self-reproach.

Shadi and Isis looked at each other, before the former nodded. Isis then turned her gaze back to Harry, sorrow evident in her eyes. "Our father completely forbade us from leaving this place during our childhood, but Marik insisted on wishing to venture to a nearby village. Shadi warned us to return. However, when we got back, we found that our father had learned of our absence, and was torturing our adoptive brother, Rashid. He attempted to punish us, but my brother fought back. A split personality emerged, one that had existed since Marik had undergone the ritual, but had taken him over. That personality…for all my father's cruelty, it had nothing on Marik's dark side, Dark Marik. My brother's evil side stole the Millennium Rod, and used it to murder my father, cutting off the tattoo on the back of my father, and draping Rashid in it. Rashid revived, and Marik's darker side receded."

"I came forth, and lamented about the Pharaoh's will causing a rift in the family," Shadi said. "In truth, I thought such a young boy would not be able to handle the truth about being a patricide. However, I chose my words poorly, all it did was turn Marik down the path of darkness. He absconded with the Millennium Rod, Rashid in tow, and founded the Ghouls, and has resisted all attempts to explain what truly happened. They are good at evading our people, and the forces of the Egyptian government."

"All because he was forced to live in a cupboard underneath the stairs," Harry muttered, angry not at Isis or Shadi, but at Isis' father, and the traditions of the Tomb Keepers. Shadi seemed to get the implication, and spoke softly in Arabic to Isis, whose eyes widened, and she looked down at the ground.

"I wish to make up for what happened to Marik, Harry, but he refuses to listen. He's determined to have his own way," Isis said. "He blames the Pharaoh for his predicament, and as it may be possible that the Pharaoh may one day be reincarnated…he is seeking out a means to have his revenge. Until then, he does so by desecrating tombs and robbing them."

"Like the ancient Thief King," Shadi said. "In any case, what we ask you to do is to help us find the holder of the Millennium Puzzle at least, and if possible, guide them and help them. However, I do ask that you be cautious. The Millennium Items and the Shadow Games are not to be trifled with."

"Dangerous dark artifacts and curses and deadly magic?" Harry sighed. "Same shit, different day…"

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Well, there you have it. Harry's met Shadi and Isis, and has passed their test. Now, the next chapter will be set shortly before Shadi arrives in Japan. Harry has been sent ahead, but he will meet Yugi, Anzu (Téa) and Jonouchi (Joey). Bit of a warning for the manga purists: I am doing one of the chapters out of order: namely the restaurant hostage chapter. That happens before Kaiba's first duel with Yugi in the manga, but here, it happens later.**

 **Incidentally, I will be using the name I used for Yami in** ** _Shadow Games and Philosopher's Stones_** **. He will be called Shadow. It's a badass name, reminiscent of another dark vigilante character, the Shadow from the pulp novels, radios, and that movie with Alec Baldwin.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	37. Underground's Champion (Revised) Chap 1

**I really, REALLY want to do a Harry Potter/ _Undertale_ crossover. Of course, my first attempt, I realised, was, if not a disaster, then a mess that I might not be able to turn into a full story. The backstory was a tangled snarl, my heart wasn't in the bashing for that work, and it just didn't work for me. So, despite your collective disappointment, I opted to not write beyond the first chapter.**

 **But the concept never went away.**

 **One story idea had Harry adopted by Alphys, shortly before the events of _Undertale_ proper. I also considered doing a pure _Undertale_ fanfic with a Charisk pairing, though working out the logistics of that seemed a mite troublesome. But I had some small inspiration that, while less groundbreaking than Undyne and Lily being related (which they aren't in this version of events), nonetheless helps fuse the two universes together. Incidentally, I have taken a lot of liberties with the _Undertale_ timeline in having Alphys being Royal Scientist and Undyne being head of the Royal Guard while Chara is still alive. But I think it works.**

 **Now, I've changed the original first chapter of _Underground's Champion_ to reflect the fact that it's the original version. Also, _Undertale_ fans may want to note that I have a new _Undertale_ oneshot, a crossover with _Death Note_ called _Queen of Spiders and Greatest Detective_ , with L visiting Muffet's store.**

 **Finally, before I get on with this sample chapter, I am strongly considering abandoning and archiving two stories in _The Cauldron_ due to lack of inspiration. Namely _Heather Potter and the Legacy of Alessa_ , and _Resident Evil: Basilisk_. I'm sorry, fans of those two stories. If I do archive them, it will be during the Christmas Update, and they will be deleted some weeks afterwards.**

* * *

 ** _UNDERGROUND'S CHAMPION (REVISED VERSION)_  
**

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **TAKEN**

 _Alphys was far from ready. The newly-appointed Royal Scientist of the Underground was chewing her lip in nervousness. It was one of the reasons why she had come to the Dump in Waterfall. It was quiet here, not many people came this way except to scavenge anything that had fallen from the Surface (which was how she had obtained a good chunk of her video collection), and she needed to think._

 _The enormity of her position was crushing down on her. She was expected to find a way to breach the Barrier and make it to the Surface, preferably in a way that didn't involve taking human souls. Indeed, the King and Queen had made that clear, especially as they had recently adopted a human who had fallen into Home, about a month ago. Asriel had a sister now, Chara. While more than a few Monsters were wary of her, Alphys included (partly because, well, humans were responsible for the Monsters being down here, partly because of the creepy deportment of Chara, and partly because of her unnatural red eyes), if she was under Asgore's protection, that was the end of the matter. Asgore may have been a big goofball and a softy, people didn't forget that he was also the strongest Monster in the Underground, that he was King for a reason._

 _As she waddled amongst the piles of garbage, she thought she heard a groan of pain. She blinked, before she turned her saurian head to where she heard it. It seemed to be coming from a pile of mattresses. These didn't come from the Surface…well, at least immediately before the Dump. No, some thrill-seeking idiots piled them up and were jumping off a nearby cliff to land on them, with the mattresses magically-enchanted to prevent injury. In theory, Alphys knew that someone could fall all the way from the Surface, and end up with bruises at best unless they landed badly._

 _As it happened, it seemed that someone had. Fallen from the Surface, anyway. Landing badly didn't seem likely, as the limbs weren't at grotesque angles._

 _And it was a human to boot._

 _Alphys waded through the ankle-deep water, making her way over to the human lying there, groaning in pain. It was a boy, maybe younger than Chara (who was eight), with a messy mop of black hair on his head. He seemed rather thin and scrawny for his age, and Alphys was horrified when she realised she could see bruises all over his body, some of them old. His ratty clothes were soaked, a pair of broken glasses was askew on his face. His eyes fluttered open, revealing emerald green irises, and when he seemed to see her, his eyes widened in panic. "No, stay away!" he shrieked._

 _"C-C-Calm down!" Alphys protested as the boy tried to scramble away, only to fall into the water. Alphys hurriedly helped him to his feet. "It's okay. I won't hurt you. I won't hurt you."_

 _He didn't run, but his eyes were wary. And weary. He blinked as he seemed to take in her appearance. She guessed that, to a human, she would look pretty odd, like a human-sized dinosaur wearing a labcoat, glasses, and with a prominent overbite. But not threatening, she would think. Chara had recently dismissed Alphys as a 'dorkosaurus'._

 _After a moment, the boy looked around, and said, "Who are you? Where am I?" He sounded slightly more calm than he was seconds before, but there was also a tone of resignation that shouldn't be in the voice of a boy that age._

 _"You're in the Underground, beneath…Mount Ebott, I think you humans called it."_

 _"Mount Ebott? That's where they took me for camping, but Dudley, he…he pushed me into the river, saying anything that went into the river disappeared forever. It went into a cave, Dudley and Uncle Vernon were laughing, and…" The boy began to sob, and he allowed Alphys to give him a hug. The scientist was sorry for the child, but she was also angry. She never thought she could be this angry before, and yet, if what this child had said was correct, his relatives had just tried to murder him._

 _After the boy's sobs died down, Alphys then said, "Well, you asked who I was. My name is Doctor Alphys. What's your name?"_

 _Tentatively, the boy said, "Harry. Harry Potter…"_

* * *

Harry Potter smiled to himself as he walked through Waterfall, back to his home. Well, the home of one of his mothers, anyway. They were going to have a nice dinner tonight, with his mothers, and the Dreemurrs, minus Asgore, who was busy with affairs of state (namely the paperwork he had neglected while watering his flowers). He had just been visiting Sans and Papyrus in Snowdin. He knew Undyne got annoyed by Papyrus' overwhelming and loud enthusiasm, as well as Sans' bad puns, but the two skeletons were good guys. Undyne knew that, she just had a bit of a clash of personality with them.

Also, thanks to a few factors, he was something of a minor celebrity in the Underground. He was, after all, one of only two humans who lived in the Underground. And one of his mothers was the Royal Scientist, while the other was the Head of the Royal Guard, and at a young age to boot. And, unfortunately, being the boyfriend of the only other human in the Underground didn't help matters. Harry was uncomfortable with celebrity, especially as he knew now something of his reputation on the Surface (amongst the wizards and witches, anyway), but he was living with it.

As he made his way, he spotted the Dreemurrs just ahead of him. Toriel Dreemurr, her biological son Asriel, and her adopted daughter Chara. A bit of a motley crew, to say the least. Toriel and Asriel looked, for all the world, like humanoid goats. White fur covered the exposed parts of their bodies, they had long floppy ears and long snouts. Both had a pair of fangs poking out of their mouths, in a manner that managed to look endearing rather than sinister. Both had horns, though both pairs were rather short. Toriel was dressed in a tabard embroidered with the Delta Rune, the sign of the Underground, and a depiction of a prophecy. Asriel was dressed rather more casually, in a green and yellow striped shirt and black trousers, as was Chara.

In terms of appearance, Chara was very different, though that was probably because she was human. There was something vaguely and hauntingly unearthly about her beauty, though, especially now that she, and Harry, were fourteen. Short brown hair framed a beautiful face that seemed to have a perpetual blush, even if only faintly at times. Her most notable features, however, were her blood red eyes. An unwanted gift from her biological father, he knew.

As usual, it was Asriel who noticed him first, and greeted him. "Howdy, Harry! We were just coming over."

"You're a bit early," Harry remarked. "Not that I'm complaining, mind."

Chara looked at Harry, and winked. "I'm sure you aren't."

Harry blushed a little. He remembered how embarrassed he was when he and Chara got caught making out by the rest of the Dreemurrs, on their birthday. They didn't have the exact same date, true, but close enough that their parties usually were combined. What compounded the embarrassment was that the Dreemurrs encouraged their affection. Oh, not so far as to encourage actual intimacy, but kissing was fine in their book. Asriel did play a bit of the protective brother card, but in truth, he still didn't mind them being together.

Then again, it was only thanks to Harry that Chara and Asriel were alive today. It was Harry, after all, who stopped them from going through with that insane plan, one that would have seen Chara dead, and possibly Asriel too.

"Now, let's be on our best behaviour," Toriel said.

"Or what, are you going to use those bad puns you've practised with Sans on me?" Chara asked with a roll of her eyes. "They may cause an allergic reaction in some people, but not me. Harry, would you be a gentleman and hold my hand while you escort me to your home?"

Harry smiled, and did so. Her skin was cool to the touch, but not in a creepy way, rather, more of a soothing way. As they continued, Harry remarked, "It'd be Halloween on the surface tonight."

Chara scoffed. "Probably one of the few times that nobody would look askance at the Monsters. They'd probably think they were good costumes or something."

"It's practically a national holiday with the wizards and witches, all because Voldemort was vanquished," Harry said. He scowled at the thought. It was only thanks to Chara that he knew anything about his heritage. He wasn't a fool: he knew that there were good humans, despite what Chara thought. But the thought of being kept ignorant of what he was…

Chara shrugged. "Well, I would celebrate, but for a subtly different reason."

They had come to the house where Harry and his mothers lived, which vaguely looked like a scowling fish's head. As was her wont to do, even on a day off, his aunt was doing training exercises. "NGAAAAH!" she screamed as she sent a blizzard of magic spears at a training dummy, turning it into scattered rags and stuffing.

"Enthusiastic as always, Undyne?" Toriel asked.

Undyne turned to look at Toriel, and then grinned. "You know it, Toriel." It took her a while to stop calling Toriel Queen. "Alphy's putting the finishing touches on the meal. I'm still surprised at how good a cook she is. She usually eats junk at her lab. I'm a little jealous, really."

"I brought along my butterscotch cinnamon pie, and some of Alphys' favourite snacks," Toriel said.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Undyne cheered, before they entered the house, to find Alphys serving out a meal.

"Good evening, Toriel, Asriel, Chara," Alphys said, smiling nervously. "It's nice to have you here."

"It's good to be here, Alphys," Toriel said with a smile.

* * *

The meal was occasionally punctuated by small talk, mostly started by Toriel, Asriel, or Harry. Chara was unsociable at the best of times, unless her family or Harry was involved. Alphys was rather timid about social situations, and Undyne…well, she was loud and boisterous, and tended to derail conversations rather than start them.

After a period, Toriel turned to Harry and Alphys. "How is the research into the Barrier coming along?"

"Slowly, but we are making better progress using human magic rather than that of Monsters," Harry said. "As it was human mages who set up the Barrier in the first place, human magic would have better luck in removing it, though they seemed to set up failsafes against it being removed from inside the Barrier, save for the seven human souls. The soul fragment that was in my scar seems to count as one soul, luckily."

"About time he was good for something," Chara snorted.

"Hey, Voldemort was good for two things at least," Harry said, looking at Chara meaningfully. "Given what he did to my parents, and to your mother…"

"Yes, I know," Chara said. "I just don't like sitting around, knowing that he's out there. He shouldn't be our problem, but…"

Toriel nodded. "He's been defeated by Harry once, Chara. Someone like Voldemort cannot countenance such a thing. His ego won't allow it. If he ever finds out that Harry is in the Underground…and that's without going into the innocent lives he will destroy."

"Innocent," Chara scoffed quietly. She didn't say anything further, though she got up from the table. Asriel went with her.

However, shortly thereafter, Harry convulsed. He was sitting with Alphys and Undyne next to him, and as Chara passed, blue fire flared around the four of them. Suddenly, in a flare of azure light, they vanished, leaving Toriel to gape.

Shortly after that, Toriel's phone rang. She frowned when she saw the phone number, that of Asgore, and answered it. In a distant voice, she said, "Gorey…I'll need to call you back. Something bad has just happened." She frowned when she heard her husband telling her something impossible, before her eyes widened in shock. "What do you mean, the Barrier just shattered?!"

* * *

In the Great Hall of Hogwarts, something big was happening. Not just the drawing of the three Champions from the schools of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. No, this was about to overshadow that. They knew this when the Goblet of Fire spat out a fourth name, a name only two people in that hall had been expecting, even if they didn't show it. They showed shock and surprise, especially when the name on that slip of paper was read out by Professor Dumbledore.

"Harry Potter?"

The silence that followed was so thick, it could be cut with a knife. It was the calm before the storm. Harry Potter? The Boy Who Lived? The Boy Who Disappeared?

Suddenly, there was a flare of blue flame near the Goblet of Fire. For a time, the azure flames flicked in a massive patch of fire on the stone floor, before finally, with a loud crack of noise like thunder, it dissipated, revealing a quintet of…people?

One of them appeared to be a short, yellow lizard in a dress, glasses askew and with a prominent overbite. Another was a woman who appeared to be part-fish, with blue scaly skin, red hair, an athletic figure, and one baleful golden eye with a slitted pupil, the other eye covered by an eyepatch. A third seemed to be a teenager, but with goat-like features, white-furred and with short horns.

The other two seemed human enough, though the red eyes of one of them that peered out in anger from underneath a fringe of brown hair suggested otherwise. The other, however, was a major surprise, with messy black hair framing handsome features, green eyes peering out from behind glasses, and a scar zig-zagging out from underneath their fringe.

It seemed that the Tri-Wizard Tournament had gotten even more complicated…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, there you have it. I copied and pasted a lot from the original story's first chapter, as those who read** ** _The Cauldron_** **know. Of course, it was suitably edited.**

 **I think this story has more potential than the original. The fusion between the two universes is less complicated by far, I have a VERY interesting pairing for Harry, and I'm sure some of you are already making guesses as to why Chara hates Voldemort. Plus, having Alphys as Harry's adoptive mother seems original, and adorable. Alphys really needs a hug badly.**

 **No numbered annotations for this chapter.**


	38. Underground's Champion (Revised) Chap 2

**I'm gratified at the response to the new version of _Underground's Champion_. I hope you guys enjoy the next chapter. I doubt the full story will be ready in time for the Christmas Update, though. You might have to wait until the new year before it is published. I want to get at least four chapters, if not more, done before I publish it...**

* * *

 _ **UNDERGROUND'S CHAMPION (REVISED VERSION)**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **THE TRI-WIZARD TOURNAMENT**

 _Harry looked around the caverns he was being led through in wonder, mixed in with trepidation, though he never heard the word before. It was understandable. A part of him believed that he had died, and had woken up in some bizarre afterlife, populated by Monsters. He couldn't call it Hell, because everyone was so nice to him, despite being, well, Monsters. Purgatory, maybe? There was lava and fire, once they moved through into what Alphys called Hotland._

 _Another less speculative part of him was trusting Alphys. Why? She seemed as nervous as he felt, or at least to some degree. In his eight years of life so far, seven of which was spent with the Dursleys, Harry had little positive contact with people in general, save for a couple of teachers and Mrs Figg, and even then, that wasn't much. He was treated as a servant by the Dursleys, with contempt._

 _They came to a pair of massive doors, and entered. Harry goggled at the vast, clinical space, with a computer workstation surrounded by detritus of all kinds, a massive screen, and a number of benches. A pair of escalators led up._

 _However, Harry froze when he saw someone sauntering up to them. Someone who was an ambulatory skeleton. Dressed in a blue hoodie and trousers, with slippers, and squat, but still a skeleton. "Hey, Alphys, I just brought you a whole bunch of…" The skeleton, whose voice was a deep drawl, blinked. Well, the two lights in his dark eye sockets seemed to wink out briefly. "Huh."_

 _Alphys said, "Thank you, Sans. This is Harry. I found him…in the D-D-Dump."_

 _"That's rubbish," Sans remarked._

 _"Sans, now's not the time for your p-puns," Alphys said sharply. "I might need your help."_

 _Sans looked at her, then at Harry. His gaze seemed to peer into Harry's very soul, assessing him. After a moment, Sans said to Alphys, "You need me to get anything? I know you've got medical supplies here, but you might need a bed roll or something. Or maybe I can get some Nice Cream from Snowdin?"_

 _"Bedding would be great, and so would some Nice C-C-Cream," Alphys said. "I'm going to call the Q-Q-Queen. She's the best of us when it comes to healing magic."_

 _"But…magic isn't real," Harry said quietly._

 _"Kid, dunno what you've been told, but…abracadabra." And with that, a snap of bony fingers, and a brief strobe of darkness, Sans disappeared._

 _Harry gaped, while Alphys went over to her workstation. "I knew I should have taken my phone with me," she muttered quietly, taking a small rectangle of metal and plastic from it. After fiddling with it, she put it up to her ear. After a moment, she spoke into it. "Hello, Chara? I'm s-s-sorry, but is your mother there? Oh, good. Would you k-k-kindly put her on?" There was another pause, before Alphys spoke again. "Your Majesty? Yes, I kn-kn-know. Listen, I need your help. Another human has fallen d-d-down…okay, see you soon." She hung up, and then looked at Harry. "Q-Q-Queen Toriel is on her way."_

 _"What do you mean?" Harry asked. "Who are you guys?"_

 _"We're Monsters. C-C-Centuries ago, there was a war between humans and M-M-Monsters. Humans won, and they sealed us Underground behind a B-B-Barrier. We're Underground even now. Sorry, but you're stuck here."_

 _Harry didn't know what to say to that. But then, a question came to mind, one that he felt silly about asking. "Can…can I have a bedroom? Not a cupboard?"_

 _Alphys blinked, before she said, "Of course you can have a bedroom! But why did you say cupboard?"_

 _Harry winced. Why did he mention that? It would take a little while for Alphys to winkle the truth out of him, and she was angry. But not at him. He didn't know it at the time, but he had inadvertently awoken maternal feelings in the lizard woman. And while he was no longer with the Dursleys, he would soon gain a family of his own, and friends…_

* * *

Toriel stared along the corridor in astonishment. Normally, there would be waves of light and darkness coursing along it, denoting the Barrier that kept them inside. But now, it was just plain light, if somewhat dim. "So, the Barrier is down? We are free?"

"Yes," Asgore said, uncharacteristically solemn. Then again, learning of the abduction of one's family, as well as valuable friends, did tend to do that. "At the moment, I am keeping that news quiet. As much as all the monsters wish to leave the Underground, I am worried about the reaction of the humans. And there's the whereabouts of our children, along with Undyne, Alphys, and Harry, to consider. Something took them, Tori, and managed to smash the Barrier in the process. It would take powerful magic to remove the Barrier, even from the outside. And in all likelihood, it was either Harry or Chara targeted, perhaps even both. They're both valuable to Voldemort, albeit for differing reasons."

"Do you think his followers may have targeted them somehow?" Toriel asked, before shaking her head. "Stupid question. It's either that, or Magical Britain found a way to retrieve their Boy Who Lived, and the others got caught up. Given that it's Halloween, one of the main occult festivals of the year…the ritual must be powerful." Toriel blinked when she realised something. "I believe I know what might have been used. That blue fire…it reminded me of the Goblet of Fire."

"The humans still have it?" Asgore mused. "I remember when my father gave it as a peace offering during that treaty signing, back when I was still a lad."

"Gotta be really old then," said a deep voice from behind them. They turned to find Sans. "Sorry about the wait. Had to read Papyrus his bedtime story, and tell him I'd be gone for a little while. I presume you want me to see if I can track down the others?"

Toriel nodded. "We know of your…abilities, to use shortcuts via teleportation. Can you visualise your destination?"

"Of course. Otherwise, I'd become someone's new spare skeleton right through their body, or someone might see me doing it when I don't want them to, and wouldn't that be embarrassing?" Sans closed his eyes, well, eye sockets, and then said, "They're at a castle, north of here. Really old, and full of magic. Dunno whether it was around when we were banished, though. They've come to no harm, though Undyne's threatening to give some of those present an impromptu colonoscopy with her spear. Doesn't look like they're under duress either. Look, you want me to go over there, right, see if I can bring them back? I'm gonna have to do a few hops, and even that's gonna take a few trips. Using my shortcuts tires me out, especially if I've got passengers. And I don't think those wizards are gonna take kindly to a skeleton popping up, even if it's your friendly neighbourhood Sans. Of course, if they're not careful, then they're gonna have a bad time…"

* * *

Dumbledore pinched the bridge of his nose, as he was having something of a bad time. What should have been a joyous occasion, the return of Harry Potter to Magical Britain, had been complicated by many factors, all of whom were standing in his office.

The main factor had been the rather boisterous fish-woman with red hair that reminded him so much of Lily's. Oh, and she claimed to be one of Harry's adoptive mothers. She had summoned a small swarm of spears made of magic, and had threatened people until she learned exactly what was going on. It had taken Dumbledore all of his diplomacy to calm her down, though Crouch's snide comments at the Monster and Bagman's fatuous glee at Harry Potter participating in the Tri-Wizard Tournament didn't help. Neither did the ensuing arguments with the other headmasters, when Karkaroff insulted the quintet, and Undyne threatened to shove a spear, in her words, ' _so far up your arse, you can pick your teeth with the pointy end_ '. And, of course, there was a generally bad reaction all round when Crouch and Bagman revealed that Harry was stuck in the Tournament, via magical contract, lest he lose his magic. Only Bagman looked pleased at this.

And that was before Moody had come in with his theory about Potter being forced into the Tournament to kill him.

Eventually, in order to try and find out exactly what had happened, he had asked Harry and his small entourage, along with Minerva and Severus, to come with him to his office. There was something hauntingly familiar about the human girl who had accompanied them, Chara. Or maybe it was the red eyes, reminiscent of Tom after he had descended too far into the darkest of magic…

And there was the rather anxious yellow lizard woman, Alphys, and the nervous but friendly goat boy, Asriel. All in all, they were a motley crew. And the tale they had to tell was an odd one.

Dumbledore winced when he heard about the Dursleys' treatment of Harry. He had hoped the Dursleys would, at their worst, treat Harry with coldness. Not with this active abuse. Then again, some of the blame laid with him and how he treated the reports of Mrs Figg. What's more, the quintet noticed it.

Severus then made the mistake of sneering. "Potter's exaggerating. Doubtless for more attention."

Surprisingly, it was not Undyne who retorted (though her eye narrowed dangerously), but Alphys, who looked angry. "While healing him, Toriel found evidence of broken bones going back at least four years. Ribs, mostly. Do you dare contradict the Queen of our people?"

"I'd dare contradict anyone who is a dunderhead," Severus sneered back.

"Which is anyone but you, punk?" Undyne said, a dangerous leer playing about her features. "Alphy here's got more brains in the tip of her tail than you've got under that greasy mop you dare to call hair."

"Well, as you both seem to be Potter's parents, I daresay she seems to have poor taste in suitors, and setting a bad example for him. Not that either of you could ever set a good example," Severus retorted with a vicious smirk.

"Severus, enough!" Minerva snapped. "We are making contact with the first Monsters to emerge from the Underground in centuries if not millennia, and your diplomatic skills leave a lot to be desired!"

"And you call threatening Karkaroff with a spear through his alimentary canal diplomacy?" Snape asked with an acid edge to his voice.

"Enough!" Dumbledore snapped. Severus shot him an insolent glare, but was silent. Once he was sure the former Death Eater was holding his tongue, Dumbledore said, feeling every year of his age, "I accept that I made a mistake placing Harry with the Dursleys, a rather disastrous one, but I had my reasons at the time, reasons which have since become moot. All I can do is offer my sincerest apologies. I am grateful that Harry has found a new family."

Chara rolled her eyes. "If you meant that, you wouldn't have left him with those _humans_ in the first place." The way she used that word, filled with so much contempt and venom for a child her age, struck Dumbledore as highly disturbing, more so than her red eyes. "There would have been kinder ways of shielding him from his fame and enemies, and better ways, but wizards and witches have even less common sense than Muggles, and that's saying something." As Minerva opened her mouth to object, Chara said, "And please don't say to show respect to him, even if he is supposedly the greatest wizard of our age. Respect is earned, not granted, and Dumbledore has done nothing to earn mine, let alone Harry's."

"Chara," Asriel said quietly in an admonishing tone. But before anything could happen, there was a strobe of darkness…

…And suddenly, a squat animated skeleton in a blue hoodie was standing in the office, grinning. "'Sup?"

Severus and Minerva had their wands trained on the skeleton (and considering it had somehow Apparated in Hogwarts, that was understandable), who waggled a chiding finger. "Do you wanna have a bad time? Cast a spell at me, and you'll have a bad time." Dumbledore indicated for them to lower the wands. Judging by the recognition on the others' faces, they knew the skeleton. So it was a Monster of some kind.

"Sans?" Asriel asked. "What're you doing here?"

"Lookin' for you. Apparently the Barrier around Mount Ebott's gone. Your parents sent me here to retrieve you. Gonna have to make a few trips, though."

"Umm, Sans, there's a few complications," Alphys said, before explaining the magical contract, as well as the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

"Dammit," Sans said quietly. "And the Goblet is a pretty ancient artifact, one of our own. Can't worm your way out of it. Welp, Harry, looks like you'll be representing us in the Tournament. Gimme a moment." He fished out a blocky piece of metal and plastic. Dumbledore recognised it as some sort of mobile phone, but far more compact than anything he had seen Muggles use.

"Electronics don't work in Hogwarts," Minerva said.

"Electronics not shielded against magic. But we use magic all the time, so it'd be pretty dumb not to make tech that doesn't short out around it," Sans said. "Got a weak signal, might be able to do it." After a moment, he said, "Tori? It's me. Look, they're safe and sound, more or less, but Harry's bound by some magical contract into these guy's idea of a tournament, or he loses his magic. Yeah, I know. The Goblet of Fire was involved. And as it happened in front of representatives of these guys' government, I think there's gonna be fallout that Harry's been living with Monsters all this time. Okay, got it. I'll see if I can make a Portkey. Given that the Underground's open now, there's no danger from it hitting the Barrier if it overshoots. Okay, see you soon." He sighed as he hung up.

"Sans…can you take Asriel and Undyne back?" Chara asked. "Undyne's got her duties, and Asriel, well…he is the prince. Alphys and I will stay with Harry for the time being."

"You sure about that?" Sans asked. Noticing Chara's expression, he shrugged. "Okay, fine."

Undyne went over to Harry, ruffling his hair. "Knock 'em dead, son. And remember what I taught you. I'll come to visit when I can, assuming you ain't allowed back outside of these tasks."

"I will," Harry said.

"I'm rooting for you, Harry," Asriel said with a smile. "Look after my sister for me, okay?"

"I think it's more the other way around," Harry said. "Take care, Azzy."

The three returning monsters smiled, and then, disappeared in a strobe of darkness. "I think we have suitable guest accommodation," Dumbledore said. "But your friend Sans was correct. While I am not so wary of Monsters to consider them an automatic threat, the Ministry will be in uproar."

Chara chuckled. "Let them. They're a bunch of sheep who scatter at the first sight of a wolf, or curs who hasten to join it in the hope of becoming part of the pack." She smirked, and then said, utterly deadpan, "Growl."

"Before you go…may I ask you something, Miss Chara? You seem familiar with our world. Were you raised in a wizarding household?"

Chara's eyes narrowed, and any jovial nature left her face. " _Raised_ would suggest that I had a childhood, which I only got with the Dreemurrs. You wouldn't know the woman who gave birth to me. All I was told by the Carrows, who kept me until I escaped them, was that she was _just a filthy Blood Traitor_. But you do know my father. Or maybe you don't." A malicious smirk came over her features once more. "He's something of a Riddle, after all…"

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **A few of you probably saw this coming. Yes, Chara is Voldemort's daughter. Yes, I know, they've pulled this sort of bullshit before, but hear me out, because I think this makes a scary amount of sense.**

 **Chara is frequently depicted with red eyes, usually in fandom, but also during the Soulless Pacifist Ending. She (I'm using the pronoun appropriate to my story) also had a twisted sense of right and wrong, even before she died. So I was inspired to make her Voldemort's daughter. My backstory for her, as revealed later, is that Voldemort raped a so-called Blood Traitor, and took the resulting child to be his heir (well, as a spare body in case he lost his). Chara was conceived at roughly the same time as Harry, and was born around the same time, within a couple of days. We will learn more about her later, but she was basically raised by the Carrows, who aren't the nicest people, to say the least.**

 **Incidentally, the flashbacks will be presented in anachronic order after a certain point (probably after the fourth chapter when I get round to writing it). For the third chapter, I want to start with Harry meeting Chara and the Dreemurrs, while for the fourth, I want him to meet Undyne for the first time.**

 **Now, in case you're wondering why Sans is creating a Portkey, he's doing it so that Harry can come back to the Underground when he wants to, or for his safety. I'm putting into the backstory that Portkeys were one of the things Monsters thought up. However, the Barrier prevented them from being used. Now that it's no longer there, Portkeys can be used with impunity, more or less.**

 **Incidentally, I decided that I didn't want to write out the whole BS of the other Champions' and the headmasters' reactions to Harry being chosen yet again. That's why I skipped straight to Dumbledore's office.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	39. Heather Potter and the Legacy of Chap 1

**Sadly, I have to abandon more of my crossovers and archive them here. Both are crossovers with survival horror games, and are also firsts for me. _Heather Potter and the Legacy of Alessa_ was my first female Harry story, and had so much promise, being a good mesh between the Potterverse and _Silent Hill 3_. Unfortunately, like many of my abandoned fics, it very much falls under the 'good idea at the time' category. I never got the motivation to write the next chapters, so, I've decided to abandon and archive it. We will discuss _Resident Evil: Basilisk_ when we come to it...**

* * *

 _ **HEATHER POTTER AND THE LEGACY OF ALESSA**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **HEATHER POTTER**

 _A derelict amusement park…_

 _A whirling carousel, looking like an occult symbol from above…_

 _A bizarre creature whose head was twitching and spasming at grotesque speed…_

 _A doppelganger of herself, but with burns, and a bleak expression, wielding a knife…_

 _Creatures attacking her, as she fled through the amusement park. Split-headed dogs with bandages and strange, tall creatures with massive club-like paws that snuffled and moaned…_

 _The roller coaster, the tracks free of monsters, allowing her to move towards her destination…_

 _The rumble on the tracks, a roller coaster car suddenly appearing out of the dark, its lights blazing…_

 _Just before she was hit, and sent to her death, she thought_ , Now I know what it's like to be a deer in the headlights.

* * *

 _As she lay, bleeding and broken, her consciousness ebbing, she felt something grip her ankles. Even in death, she couldn't catch a break. But it felt like someone, or at least something with hands, was taking her away._

 _With the last of her strength, she looked up to see…a strange, humanoid thing, like something stitched together out of leather, with an apron. It's face was a near-featureless mask, twitching and spasming._

 _And as the darkness consumed her, she heard it say_ , No…your time hasn't come yet…Mother of God…

* * *

Heather Potter, now living as Heather Morris, opened her eyes. The red glare of a sunset seared at her eyes, and she blinked the sleep away. She was in a diner in a shopping mall, a short train ride from home. Or what home was now.

"What a nightmare," she muttered to herself. Even so, it didn't feel like a run of the mill nightmare. Luna had told her in third year that, like her, Heather had a touch of the Sight. And despite the surreal nature of the dream, it had the stink of a dream glimpsing the future dimly. She had learned more from the scatter-brained blonde than she ever did from Trelawney.

As Heather got up and paid for her meal, she contemplated what had gone wrong with her life. There were so many places to choose from, but she supposed it started in earnest with the fourth year, and the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Only, thanks to Barty Crouch Junior, it became the Quad-Wizard Tournament. Locked into a dangerous tournament with no way out, shunned by most of the school, including many she considered friends (Ron Weasley in particular), her only allies being Hermione, Neville, and Luna. Even after the First Task, and Ron realised how truly dangerous it had been, their friendship remained distant, especially once her most precious person in the Second Task was revealed to be Neville. Well, she had taken him to the Yule Ball, but Ron had a notion that he might end up marrying Heather. That notion had died hard, and it was only just before what would have been their fifth year that they managed to get their relationship back to normal.

Ah yes, fifth year. Which started wonderfully, with her friends forbidden to correspond with her, and only Luna flouting Dumbledore's rules, though Hermione, once she cottoned onto what Luna suggested, did follow suit, and eventually, so did Ron. They used the Muggle mail to send letters to him, mostly full of inanity, but with coded messages (activated only by their personal magic). It was through these letters that Heather learned that a smear campaign had been mounted against her and Dumbledore by Cornelius Fudge, all because she had told the truth.

Of course, in retrospect, what proof was there? The corpse of Cedric Diggory, and Barty Crouch Junior, who had been rendered soulless by a Dementor. Speaking of which, a couple of Dementors attacked her and Dudley, and while defending herself, she soon found herself effectively put on trial. And that's when things went horribly wrong.

Despite everything, the Minister had ordered her wand snapped, and her expulsion from Hogwarts. Heather was returned to 4 Privet Drive, but she wouldn't remain there for long.

A few days later, she got seven unexpected visitors, including Snape of all people. And Petunia, oddly, allowed them in. Petunia had actually been strangely sad about Heather being expelled from Hogwarts, and not just because Heather would have been out of her hair, otherwise. Letting wizards into her home was even more strange, though learning that she had known Snape since they were children did clear some of that up.

Hermione, Ron, Luna, and Neville were there. And the adults present were Remus, Sirius, and Snape. The four children were there to say goodbye, as Heather was going to be taken to a safe house outside the country. Sadly, Heather couldn't use Hedwig to correspond with them anymore. She couldn't even use the mirrors Sirius had considered. Instead, they created a similar method, a magical diary that could message people. Hermione had said it was almost like email(1).

She had said her goodbyes, hoping that one day, she would come back, and that they wouldn't be murdered by Voldemort. Unfortunately, what Snape and her father's two friends had to tell her suggested otherwise.

Snape had been told late last year about two horrifying things about Heather. She contained two evil entities within her body. The first was a Horcrux, a splinter of Voldemort's soul. The second was something even worse, something even Dumbledore didn't know what it was, save that it was demonic, and growing.

Heather knew about the latter.

Had it only been the Horcrux, Dumbledore would have tried his utmost to find a way of removing it without killing Heather. But with the revelation of the demonic entity growing within Heather, it seemed that Dumbledore had given up hope of saving Heather Potter. Even though Snape, in his researches, had turned up a potential cure in the form of Aglaophotis, but because it needed to be taken at a critical point in order to ensure the expulsion and dissolution of the being within her, Dumbledore had dismissed it. It seemed that in his despair, Dumbledore had utterly resigned himself to Heather Potter's death, in order to ensure that Voldemort died, and the demonic entity would die as well.

But as disheartening as that was, it was by no means the only startling revelation. Besides Snape actually not only defying Dumbledore, but helping Heather out. When he had been asked why, his cryptic remark was, 'You have your mother's eyes, no matter what these two will say'.

And what Sirius and Remus had to say dropped a bombshell as big as Snape's: Heather Potter was not the daughter of the Potters at all, save by blood adoption rituals. The story they told her, however, made sense of all those strange visions she saw while under the influence of the Dementors, and what Luna said about them.

It wasn't just reliving the deaths of the Potters, her adoptive parents: there were other visions. Of a mother like a hag, demanding that Heather share her power (but calling her 'Alessa' for some reason). Of burning flesh, her flesh, and the unbearable agony. Of being rescued unwillingly, of splitting her soul, part of it living on as a girl called Cheryl Mason. A bifurcated life, one spent in hellish pain, the other, in the loving arms of a father and mother, the Masons. Of the mist-bound town of Silent Hill, her being drawn there, of the creatures and entities there. Of being found by her birth mother, and forced to fuse her two halves back together to become the Incubator of Silent Hill's dark god. Of being saved by her first adoptive father using Aglaophotis, destroying the demon that had emerged from her. And of her recreating herself in a new infant, pouring most of her essence into that child, and leaving a remnant behind to make sure that her father escaped.

Sirius and Remus knew Harry Mason. Harry Mason's wife was an Evans, the aunt of Petunia and Lily, and if James and Lily ever had a boy, Lily had considered calling him Harry, as she had fond memories of her uncle. Unfortunately, the Potters had been rendered sterile by a curse inflicted on them by a malicious Death Eater. Harry sent them Heather, not realising that the Potters were in the middle of a war, for safekeeping, in case the Cult of Silent Hill came calling. The Potters used a blood adoption ritual to bring Heather into the family. And, well, from there, well, you know the rest.

Luna had already indicated this when she first met Heather, but while Heather did befriend the strange girl rather quickly, it did take her some time to even accept the possibility that they were more than nightmares, but memories of a life she had lived before. Now she knew. And she had to leave Britain before Dumbledore decided that her time was up.

The plan was this: Remus and Sirius would take Heather to the United States, as they had contact details for Harry Mason. Snape gave her a capsule of Aglaophotis in a locket, and told her to take it when the time was right. He clarified by saying that, when the pain got too hard to bear, and she knew she was on the brink of death. She would start feeling pains in her guts on a regular basis as the demonic entity grew closer to being born.

Remus, Sirius, and Heather made their way to the United States, and found Harry Mason in Portland in Maine. The reunion between father and adopted daughter was a strange one, but Heather found herself overwhelmed by the feelings of love she felt towards him, feelings she had once felt as Cheryl Mason. And Harry Mason, for his part, found the fact that his adopted daughter was a witch very easy to accept, considering what he went through in Silent Hill.

Remus and Sirius couldn't stay. They needed to make sure that neither Dumbledore nor the Death Eaters could track them down and get Heather's location out of them. So Harry and Heather moved, while Remus and Sirius went their separate ways, with Sirius ending up living in Las Vegas(2). Lupin, as it turned out, managed to persuade another member of the Order of the Phoenix to defect, Nymphadora Tonks, and they were living happily together in Virginia, despite Lupin's 'furry little problem'.

Which led Heather to this point. Two years, she had spent in the United States, while the Order and the Ministry ran around like headless chickens. The _Daily Prophet_ , which she was able to get thanks to the local magic stores (hidden, of course), alternated between pleading for her return, and calling her a coward. Hermione and Neville had both left for France and Beauxbatons, while Ron, Ginny, and the Weasley twins took up their education in America. These decisions were influenced partly by Voldemort's rise, and partly by the fifth year's Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher and High Inquisitor of Hogwarts, Dolores Umbridge. An odious little sadist that Heather remembered being at her trial, a toad of a woman dressed in garish pink clothing.

Heather didn't really trust anyone in authority in Magical Britain anymore. She just wanted to have a quiet life, and Snape had assured her that he would do everything he could to make sure that not only did Voldemort not win, but Dumbledore not get his hands on her. The last time he had contacted her, apparently Dumbledore had gotten cursed by a Horcrux while doing something foolish. Draco had been tasked by Voldemort to assassinate Dumbledore, but Snape did it for him at both Dumbledore's and Narcissa Malfoy's (admittedly separate) requests.

Though Dumbledore was dead, Snape warned Heather to stay out of the country. He was tracking down the remaining Horcruxes and destroying them, and when he found a means of destroying the Horcrux within Heather without killing her, he'd contact her.

All of this went through her mind as she walked through the shopping mall, and went for a payphone. As she did so, her instincts began screaming at her. She was being followed, she was sure of it. Mad-Eye Moody would be proud. Last she heard, the grizzled old Auror was working with Snape to track down and destroy the Horcruxes.

She rang home, and called. " _Hello, Harry Mason here_ ," came the voice of her father.

"Dad? It's me," Heather said.

" _Oh, Heather. I was wondering why you were still out._ "

"Yeah. Sorry I didn't call sooner," Heather said.

" _It's fine. You fell asleep in the restaurant, did you? Too tired from staying up to watch those old movies._ "

Heather smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, I guess I was. Anyway, I'm coming home now." A thought occurred to her. "Oh, I didn't get that thing you asked me to."

" _Oh, the shop was all out, was it? Never mind. I can live without it._ "

"Okay."

" _Come home soon, Heather._ "

"Okay, I will."

" _Love you, Heather._ "

"Love you too, Dad," Heather said, before hanging up, smiling, running a hand through her now blonde hair (colouring it to avoid identification as either Heather Potter, or the reincarnation of Alessa, and contacts to change her eye colour from green to hazel, though she couldn't do much about the scar, but hide it beneath her hair). The smile left her face as she noticed who was watching her, a scruffy, middle-aged, bearded man in a shabby coat and hat. She moved off, and noticed the man following her.

Eventually, he said, "Heather, I need to speak with you. My name is Douglas Cartland. I'm a detective."

Heather turned to appraise the man. A detective? Well, he was a pretty shabby one. "A detective? Really?" she asked sardonically. "Well, nice talking to you."

As she turned to leave, he said, "Hold on. There's someone who wants to meet you. Just let me have an hour, no, half an hour of your time."

Heather turned and glared. "Well, my father told me not to talk to strangers. Anyway, do you have ID?"

Cartland nodded, and handed a card over. She checked it with a frown. It seemed legitimate enough. He seemed to be a private investigator of some sort. As she handed it back, she said, "Even so, I'm not interested, Mr Cartland."

"Look, this is very important. This is about your birth."

Heather blinked. Then, she said, probably foolishly, "Which one?"

"Huh?"

"Listen, your employer, are they from Silent Hill, or England?"

Cartland shrugged. "Not from England. But beyond that, I can't say, even if I did know."

"Then I'm definitely not interested, Mr Cartland. Now leave me alone."

She began walking, only to realise that the man was following behind her. She whirled and glared at him again. Only this time, she made his trousers translocate about three metres away, leaving him only in boxers(3). "Now, you have two options. You either leave me alone, or I start screaming that you're a pervert, and given the state of your trousers…"

"What do you mean, my…?" He looked down, and almost screamed himself. As he spotted his trousers and scrambled to get them (thankfully for him, there weren't any other people around at the moment), Heather ducked into a nearby women's toilets, and clambered through a window, hoping that he wouldn't be game enough to follow through there.

She didn't know what his game was, but she was sure it wasn't good. She made her way down an alley, and then into another part of the mall. Many of the doors of this backroom area seemed to be locked, and she couldn't help but notice that this area seemed quiet and undisturbed. Surely there'd be staff members of the mall around?

She made it back into the mall proper, but many of the shutters were in place, the place looked grimy, and her only way to go anywhere was into a boutique clothing store. She frowned as she noticed a pistol on the ground. But then, she heard a bizarre, groaning and chewing noise, and turned…only to stare in horror.

It was a grotesque parody of a human form, with thin spindly legs, vast, club-like paws, and a cylindrical head that was currently eating the corpse of a woman with the only feature on said head, a grotesque mouth. And then, it turned its attention to her.

Heather reached for the gun, and yelled, raising it at the creature, "Stay back! Get the hell away from me!"

The creature didn't comply, and after a few shots, Heather decided that more extreme measures were needed. The Statute of Secrecy was more lax here, and she kept her wand elsewhere. The Trace didn't work here, and in any case, this was an emergency. She remembered one of the darker spells Snape had taught her, something he himself developed, something he had taught her just in case. Slashing her fingers down, she yelled, " _SECTUMSEMPRA!_ "

The effect was immediate. Gaping wounds opened up on the monster, and with a bestial moan of pain, it slumped to the ground. As it died, spasming and twitching, Heather thought, _What the Hell is this thing?!_

But even as she thought it, she knew. Alessa's memories and Cheryl's memories were very clear on that score, even if they hadn't seen this thing before. It stank of Silent Hill.

Which meant that someone, or something, from that town was reaching out for her…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **I hope you enjoyed this initial chapter. Things will start diverging somewhat from the story of** ** _Silent Hill 3_** **. After all, Heather has access to all of her memories as Cheryl and Alessa, thanks to the Dementors and her own magic. The next chapter, being the first meeting between Heather and Claudia, is a case in point…**

 **I feel that this was a relatively minor bashing of Dumbledore compared to many such stories, though. Now, I will discuss this in a later chapter, but after the events of what would have been** ** _The Half-Blood Prince_** **, Snape ganked Voldemort, killing him, or at least turning him into a wraith for the time being. This was to buy him time to find the other Horcruxes, as well as to establish his bona fides to some in the Order. Moody is one of the few left in the Order, however, who will listen to him (ironic, given Moody's paranoia, but I also thought he was one of the smarter members). Snape hasn't mentioned killing Voldemort to Heather, though, because he thinks that might make her complacent. In any case, the rest of Magical Britain still believe he is alive, so her friends don't know.**

 **1\. While 1995, when that bit was set, was early days for home email, I'd like to think that Hermione, at least, had heard of it.**

 **2\. An oblique reference of mine to a number of fics where Harry is taken to Vegas (usually by Sirius or Remus), and ends up getting married. Most of the time, it seems to be to a superhero.**

 **3\. My little reference to an Easter Egg in** ** _Silent Hill 3_** **: input the Konami Code, and Douglas wanders around with his trousers off, showing off his boxers. Hence, this scene. Heh heh heh…**


	40. Heather Potter and the Legacy of Chap 2

_**HEATHER POTTER AND THE LEGACY OF ALESSA**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **AN UNHAPPY REUNION**

So, monsters were populating the mall, and not just those things with the big club-like paws. Dogs with bifurcated heads and wrapped in purulent bandages, twitching pale human-like creatures that crawled along the ground…the stuff of nightmares. Namely, her own. Heather was almost surprised at how readily she accepted that. But then again, being in the magical world, as well as the friend of Luna Lovegood, tended to erode expectations of normality. And her memories as Alessa and Cheryl helped, anyway.

 _So_ , she mused to herself. Either the entity within me is waking up, or someone has harnessed the power of Silent Hill. Maybe it's both. She considered calling her father to warn her, but the few phones she came across were dead. As dead as she would be, if she didn't hurry.

She made it out the back of a bookshop, when she saw a woman, clad in black, waiting for her. She looked very familiar, with blonde hair and features that could have been regally beautiful, if they hadn't been so unnerving. "Hey, are you all right? Do you know what's going on? Where is everybody? And what are those weird monsters?"

The woman spoke in measured tones, "They've come to witness the Beginning. The rebirth of Paradise, spoiled by mankind."

 _Oh shit, she's one of the Cultists_ …Heather thought, before recognition seared through her brain. Give the woman eyebrows, de-age her by a couple of decades and more, and you had…

"…Claudia?"

This threw the woman. She hadn't quite been expecting this. "…You _know_ me? You… _remember_ me?"

"Little Claudia Wolf," Heather said, letting the memories of Alessa come to the fore. One of her few friends at school, and as deeply devoted to their religion as Alessa had been…before her relationship with her mother deteriorated, and she realised what the true nature of the Cult of Silent Hill was. Claudia, in fact, was rather like Luna Lovegood…if Luna Lovegood was a religious fanatic and abused by her father. "My dear, little sister. I _do_ remember."

"…Alessa? Is it really you?"

"That was my name, Claudia," Heather said. She shook her head. "Claudia, what have you done to yourself? I mean, _what did you do to your eyebrows?!_ "

Claudia blinked. "…Excuse me?"

"You mutilated a perfectly good pair of eyebrows. Seriously, I would have killed for ones like yours. Did you shave them off, or did you just have an accident near an open flame?"

Claudia blinked again. "…Alessa, are you mocking me?"

"No, I'm lamenting the loss of your eyebrows." Then, Heather's eyes hardened. "And I think I'm going to be lamenting the loss of a friend. I think I know why you're here, Claudia. If you really want me to bear that god of yours…then we can't be friends anymore."

"But Alessa, it's our God!" Claudia protested. "You said it yourself: the world must be purged with fire. Don't you want happiness for all the people of the world? For suffering to end? We all need God's salvation."

"Suffering's a part of life," Heather retorted. "Anyone who tells you otherwise is selling you something(1). Did my mother make you snort a whole cartful of PTV(2)?"

"Show some respect to your mother, Alessa!" Claudia wailed, less angry than mortified.

" _She burnt me alive, Claudia!_ She set me on fucking fire! Kept me imprisoned in my own body for seven years, refusing to let me die, and be with Cheryl instead of that charred husk! That is not the path of a loving mother. And using me to bring about the end of the world…that's not the path of a friend, Claudia."

Suddenly, Heather's head and abdomen began to throb with pain. Crying out, she sagged to the floor. Claudia came over, and looked down at her, her face full of sorrow. "I am willing to bear your hatred, Alessa, as long as Paradise is brought about. The salvation of mankind can only be obtained when the old world is destroyed. And for that, we need God. You are the one who will lead us to Paradise, with bloodstained hands…" As Heather convulsed, Claudia gently touched Heather's face. "We will meet again soon, my dearest sister." Then, she walked away, Heather barely able to follow her through the blinding pain.

A minute or so later, the pain went away enough for Heather to get, rather unsteadily, to her feet. None of the doors were unlocked, but there was a working elevator. But as she entered, a familiar crackle of static occurred. She remembered her father telling her how he used a radio in Silent Hill to detect monsters. As the elevator descended, a radio dropped from the ceiling.

"Oh, Merlin," she muttered, picking it up. The elevator opened into another one, rusty and bloodied. But she knew the only way out was down now.

Stepping forward, she saw, just beyond the cage, one of the creatures from her dream, the one that had dragged her away even as she lay dying. _Valtiel_ , Alessa's memories whispered into her head.

The creature was attacking another, before taking notice of her. The elevator began to descend, bizarre images appearing as she descended, Valtiel following her by crawling slowly down the inside of the lift shaft. _Greetings, Mother of God_ , slid a rusty voice into her mind.

"Piss off," she retorted. As the elevator continued its descent, she thought, _I'd think I was going crazy…if it weren't for my memories as Cheryl and Alessa. Or that this was a bad dream that I couldn't wake up from. Still wish it was, though_.

* * *

Through the warping and changing shopping mall, Claudia Wolf strolled, troubled. She hadn't expected Alessa's reincarnation to remember who she was. She also hadn't expected Alessa to reject everything they had stood for. Some may have considered it a trick, but Claudia Wolf knew that it was Alessa speaking through the lips of Heather Mason. Which made it hurt all the more. But Claudia also knew that what she needed to do was necessary. It was for the Greater Good. She was willing to sacrifice her friend, her friendship, and even her own immortal soul, all to bring about Paradise.

For a moment, her hand reached up to touch her non-existent eyebrows. A faint scowl touched her face. Of all the things Alessa had said, the thing that had actually hurt her was the remarks about the eyebrows.

She found a rather unwelcome visitor waiting for her by the exit, reading a book casually, even as the shopping centre became darkened and dirtied and bloodied. He could have been considered handsome, had he taken the time to do more than groom his hair and dress in neat clothing. He had stubble on his face, and his eyes, flashing beneath his glasses, rarely seemed to look directly at you. His most frequent expressions were either that of a hurt mentor, or a condescending sneer.

Claudia hated Vincent Smith's guts. A recently ordained priest of the Cult of Silent Hill, she knew he had more of a flippant, iconoclastic view towards the religion, something she despised. The fact that he had helped fund a good chunk of it due to his family fortune also helped fuel her spite towards him.

"So, how fares the expectant mother, hmm?" Vincent asked flippantly.

"Well enough. God is growing within her. However, there is a possible complication."

"Pray, do tell," Vincent asked.

"She has access to her memories as Alessa. And she opposes us anyway," Claudia said.

"Really? Are you sure that it wasn't just canny little Heather doing some psychological warfare on you?"

"Do not mock me, Vincent. If she was merely imitating Alessa, I would know. She spoke things only she and I would know. She even called me by name before I told her it. No, that was Alessa. I know it."

"Well, I'll take your word for it," Vincent said with an amiable shrug, returning to his book, even as they strolled through the Otherworld, out of the mall and down the street. "There is an added complication, though, not just Heather remembering who she is and opposing us."

"What is that?"

"Well, when you told me that there was evidence that Heather had been in Britain for most of her life, I contacted some old friends there. A girl answering to the description of Heather Mason is quite well known there, and when I showed them some pictures that the detective took, they knew who she was. Heather Potter. The Girl Who Lived."

"What do you mean?"

"Heather was a celebrity of sorts in Britain. There are hidden colonies of wizards and witches the world over. I've told you this before, but you didn't seem very interested. In fact, I did some research, and found out that Dahlia Gillespie was born from a wizarding family, but she had no magical ability herself. That is someone called a Squib, by the way, whereas you and Heather, because you have some magical ability, are witches. I technically count as a Muggle, a non-wizard born to a non-magical family. But I digress. Heather was adopted by James and Lily Potter, with Lily being a relative of Harry Mason's wife, Jodie. However, Magical Britain was in the middle of a civil war, with a terrorist called Voldemort leading them. He was a fanatical blood purist: think a Nazi, or a member of the Ku Klux Klan, only magical. Anyway, for some reason, probably because they pissed him off, Voldemort targeted the Potters. He used an instant death curse to kill Heather's adopted parents. He then tried to kill Heather. Tell me, did you see a scar on her forehead?"

Claudia frowned, before recalling the jagged, inflamed-looking thing mostly hidden by Alessa's hair. Like a lightning bolt. "I did, actually."

"Well, that scar is the only remnant of the curse hitting her. Nobody knows how it happened, as the only way to avoid getting killed by the curse is to either dodge, or to have something solid between you and it. The most prevalent theory, and one I'd accept, is that one of her parents used some obscure ritual or other to protect her. The truth is, her miraculous survival made her known to the wizards as the Girl Who Lived. However, she disappeared from Magical Britain in 1995, in disgrace, having had her wand snapped and being expelled from Britain's main wizarding school, Hogwarts."

Claudia couldn't help but snort. "What a ridiculous name," she murmured.

"On that, we are definitely agreed, Claudia," Vincent said, smirking. She noted he left unspoken, _If nothing else_.

"I will go to Mason's apartment and summon a Missionary," Claudia said. "What do you intend to do?"

"Take in the sights. This is really quite fascinating, in a morbid, macabre, Francis Bacon kind of way. The painter, not the philosopher(3)."

Claudia peered at him suspiciously, before dismissing him. If he wanted to get himself killed exploring the dangerous Otherworld, then let him. She had more important work to do…

* * *

Vincent was beside himself with glee. He was sure that Heather wouldn't want to go along with Claudia's insane plan. Despite his being high up in the Cult's hierarchy, he was also rather fond of material comforts, and Claudia's plan would ensure that his enjoyment of life would be annihilated.

But to hear that no less than what could be Alessa herself wanted nothing to do with it was cause for celebration. True, it could have been a ruse by Heather, but either way, it didn't matter. The only benefit of Alessa being opposed to Claudia's plans meant that there would be no nasty surprises in terms of allegiance.

There was a business centre not far from Harry Mason's apartment. Vincent really didn't care whether Harry Mason died or not. If anything, it would give Heather the impetus to go after Claudia and assassinate her. He would lie in wait, and watch what Heather did. Perhaps guide her along her way. He could even feel out how genuine her claims to know Alessa's memories were, and see if she truly was opposed to Claudia's plans. Then, he had someone who could help him stop the crazy fanatic. He should be able to get there by car: his own car would hopefully be unaffected by this world. He would just have to make sure he avoided any streets that fell into an abyss. Plus, a few monsters he could run over.

With a macabre chuckle, Vincent jogged away, ready to take his car for a spin. The thought of running over one of those split-headed dogs made him giddy with anticipation, though the thought of derailing Claudia's plans would be even better. Smirking, he thought, _Don't die yet, Heather Potter. We have much to talk about, you and I_ …

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, the first meeting between Claudia and Heather plays out somewhat differently from canon, though you'll notice that I took dialogue not only from their first meeting, but also one of their last ones, when Heather and Claudia meet in the Church.**

 **Heather's remarks about the eyebrows are actually part of her coping with her suspicions, which are fulfilled, of Claudia acting to make Heather give birth to the demonic god of Silent Hill. She's angry and disappointed, and is using sarcasm and humour as a coping mechanism.**

 **1\. I changed Heather's line to resemble a line from** ** _The Princess Bride_** **. 'Life is pain, Higness! Anyone who says differently is selling something.'**

 **2\. PTV is the name given to the drug mentioned in** ** _Silent Hill_** **, derived from the fictional White Claudia plant, and created and distributed by Dahlia and Kaufmann. Given how Claudia acts in** ** _Silent Hill 3_** **, I wouldn't be at all surprised if she snorting it by the kilo.**

 **3\. There are two Francis Bacons of note. The first was a philosopher and scientist who lived in Elizabethan England. The second was a painter known for creating rather morbid and disturbing pieces, and who was one of the major inspirations for the design of** ** _Silent Hill_** **.**


	41. Heather Potter and the Legacy of Chap 3

_**HEATHER POTTER AND THE LEGACY OF ALESSA**_

 **CHAPTER 3:**

 **THE MALEVOLENT MISSIONARY**

People say too often that they've been to Hell and back. Heather could at least say that with a straight face, even before Silent Hill's influence was drawn over this shopping mall. As Alessa, she had suffered for seven years in a burnt body that wasn't allowed to die. As Cheryl, she had to negotiate the misty streets and avoid the monsters of Silent Hill, monsters born from Alessa's torment.

And now, as Heather, she had been to the Otherworld again. A rusty, bloody parody of the shopping mall, infested with monsters, and filled with grotesque and macabre obstacles and even puzzles. The puzzles was the town's way of slowing her progress, she knew. One thing she knew about the malevolent entity that dreamed beneath Silent Hill was that it enjoyed playing games with people's lives. More so than Dumbledore.

It had culminated in her having to fight off a massive worm with two heads, one inside the other, with uncomfortably phallic imagery that she knew was par for the course in Silent Hill. Killing it after a prolonged battle made the hellish version of the mall disappear. Soon, she was back in normal reality, or at least something close to it.

When she made her way to the entrance area, though, the only person present was that damned detective. "Heather!" he yelled, seeming relieved.

"You…" Heather said, glaring. "You're working for Claudia, aren't you?"

"Claudia? Yes, she hired me to find you, that's all. I didn't know anything about…whatever that was. How did the mall change? And those monsters…"

He seemed sincere enough. He may have allowed the Cult to track her down, but he was just doing his job. Probably got fed bullshit by someone else. Heather sighed, trying to not let her anger overwhelm her. "Okay, Mr Cartland, wasn't it? Long story short, Claudia is part of a cult. Said cult wants me."

"Why?"

"Well, let me put it this way. How do you think your trousers came off?"

"I don't know."

"The answer is simple, though it's hard to believe. I'm a witch, Mr Cartland." She gestured, saying " _Accio!_ ", and Douglas' hat flew into her hand.

"Whoa!" Douglas yelped, his eyes wide. "So…what does that have to do with what happened? Did you cause that?"

"Not exactly. The source is within me, but it's being influenced by another entity. You heard me mention Silent Hill earlier, right. The town's alive, and worse, it's malevolent, with a twisted sense of humour. I was born there 31 years ago…24 years ago…and seventeen years ago."

Douglas looked at her with a blank, confused expression. "…Sorry, what? But I thought you were seventeen."

"Looks can be deceiving. Look, Mr Cartland," she said, walking over and handing him the hat, "Claudia tricked you. You've stumbled into a situation that is pretty fucking dangerous. I've got to get home as soon as possible and warn my father." As she headed for the subway, she said, "I hope nothing's happened to him, or I'll be pissed at you. Not as much as I will be with Claudia, though."

"And what do I do?" Douglas asked.

"Up to you, but I suggest getting the Hell out of Dodge," Heather said, as she descended the escalators to the subway…

* * *

Of course, things were never as simple as that. Even with the weapons she had managed to accrue on her journey, as well as her magic, she still felt underarmed for this. Still, the monsters that infested even the subway didn't have much resistance to magic.

Unfortunately, that proved all for naught when she got close to one of the platforms, only to be shoved off violently. The place had been empty, but she had read about some suicide, and a ghost that had inhabited the area. It seemed that had been correct, or else some malevolent entity thought it'd be funny to do that.

As she landed heavily on the tracks, she felt before she heard the rumble of the train speeding towards her. As she got to her feet, she saw the light of the train speeding towards her. By the time her mind unfroze, she knew it was too late to climb back onto the platform.

Desperately, knowing that Apparition without visualising a destination was dangerous, but no less dangerous than being in the path of an oncoming train, she closed her eyes, concentrated, felt the distinctive squeezing sensation…

* * *

…And was somewhere else. Somewhere where a man had emitted a short, girly scream upon her sudden appearance. _Oh great, there goes the Statute of Secrecy_ , she thought, a little woozily from her impromptu escape from locomotive death.

Of course, the man's words put that fear out of her head…and a different fear entirely back in.

"Ah, Heather Mason…or should that be Heather Potter? It's something of an honour to meet the Girl Who Lived."

She shook her head to rid it of the dizziness. She found herself facing a young man in his twenties, neatly dressed, but unshaven, wearing glasses like she used to wear. There was something almost instantly unlikeable about him. They were in a psychology clinic, one she recognised as being in a business building not far from her apartments.

"Who're you? I mean, you know who I am, but…"

"Oh, but of course. Where are my manners? Vincent Smith(1). Don't forget it, okay?" He settled his glasses on his nose.

Heather frowned. "Are you with Claudia?"

Vincent got up, annoyed. "I'd thank you not to lump me in with her! She was totally brainwashed by that crazy old hag!" He calmed down, before saying, "Well, that's a bit harsh, considering I am talking about your mother."

"I don't mind," Heather said. "She _was_ a crazy old hag. You're talking about Dahlia, aren't you?"

Vincent grinned, rather unpleasantly, musing, "So Claudia was telling the truth. You do have all your memories. You wouldn't remember me, though. I was only a babe in arms when your mother decided to set you on fire."

"But you know Claudia? Are you part of the Cult?"

"I am one of its ministers, though I have no interest in bringing forth God. Let's just say that my tastes are somewhat more mundane than spiritual, and God's advent would ruin my life just as much as it would ruin a lot of other people's. Claudia doesn't trust me."

"I wonder why," Heather said. "You look _very_ trustworthy."

"You wound me with your sarcasm. I'm sure it helped against Voldemort," Vincent said with a sneer. "The Girl Who Lived…by running all the time."

Heather shook her head. "If you want my help stopping Claudia, then you're going a funny way about it. I need to get home, warn my father."

"Are you sure you're going to get there on time? Claudia's on her way to have someone kill Harry," Vincent said, with mock concern. "Clock's ticking."

* * *

Vincent was surprised when the teenaged girl he had been tormenting a little gave him the two-fingered salute, then disappeared with a loud _crack!_

To the empty office, Vincent muttered, out loud, with a surprised but amused smirk on his face, "Maybe she can…"

Still, at least their brief encounter had turned up something. Claudia was right, she did possess Alessa and Cheryl's memories. Or else Heather was very well-informed, and knew how to play the role. Either way, it was confirmed that she would oppose Claudia's plans. Which was good. With any luck, that would negate the need to kill Heather before God could be born.

Of course, it meant that he would have to go and track down some Aglaophotis to make absolutely sure. It was quite rare, and he'd have to see if Dr Kaufmann had any secret stashes left back in Silent Hill.

That being said, he decided to follow Heather, though it was a pity he was no mage, and thus couldn't use Apparition. Regardless of the outcome of the battle to come, she might need some pointers in the right direction.

* * *

Heather arrived in her apartment just in time to see her father flung back by a grotesque creature. His wounds weren't mortal, but as he landed heavily in his favourite armchair, she could see that he would need a hospital…or healing magic.

The beast confronting him was roughly human-looking. It seemed to wear a bloody, begrimed apron, its arms bedecked with blades, and its head covered by a shapeless sack that twitched and spasmed. Or maybe the sack was its head. She didn't know, or care.

" _Petrificus Totalus!_ " Heather yelled, gesturing at the beast. Its bladed arms snapped to its sides, and it toppled like a felled tree. Then, turning to her father, she began waving her arm over his wounds. " _Vulnera Sanentur…Vulnera Sanentur…Vulnera Sanentur_ …" she murmured in a song-like incantation. Another spell Snape had developed, though others knew it. The result was that her father's wounds closed up.

Harry Mason looked up at his adopted daughter, his dazed look clearing, until he looked behind her. "Heather, look out!"

Heather whirled to find that the creature had broken free of the Body-Bind, and was advancing on them both, intending to turn them into mincemeat. Heather knew what it was: one of the fanatics of the Cult, warped by the power of Silent Hill into a monster. Even now, she could hear its thoughts, fanatic ravings along the lines of killing the unbelievers. It thought itself a Missionary, bringing the word of God to the heretics. The rest was bloodlust and fury.

" _Sectumsempra!_ " Heather snarled, slashing her fingers through the air at the beast. Unlike the other monsters, though, it didn't go down. She and Harry dived to the side as it charged them, and crashed into his armchair.

"The roof!" Harry yelled. He made for the fire escape, clambering up the steps, Heather hot on his heels.

When they got to the roof, Claudia was there, frowning. "You're somewhat early," she observed, as if she was the hostess of a party, and a guest had arrived before it started.

"Actually, I was just in time, Little Claudia," Heather panted, a little tired from both running and using high-end spells wandlessly. "Apparition…it's good in an emergency."

"You know this woman?" Harry asked.

"She was my little sister in everything but blood, back when I was Alessa," Heather explained. "Unfortunately, my mother fucked with her head, even after I got roasted by her. She used to be my oldest friend. I think tonight, we're having a falling out. You sent that maniac to kill my father, Claudia. Was it revenge?"

"Partly," Claudia conceded with a nod. She glared at Harry. "You took her from us seventeen years ago. You've poisoned her mind…"

"Poisoned nothing, Claudia!" Heather yelled. "I had doubts about my beliefs, and Dahlia burnt it out of me for good when she turned me into an incubator for a demon! Harry at least gave a fuck about me!"

"Heather, language." Harry then glared at Claudia. "Between your mother and those idiots in Britain, she's gone through enough without you trying to use her for your own deranged dreams! Can't you be happy that she's happy?"

"You understand _nothing_ , Harry Mason," Claudia said with a glare. "Your death was to further boost the anger and hatred. I will bear any burden to make sure Paradise comes about, including the rancour of my oldest friend." A snarl came from behind them, and Harry and Heather whirled to find the Missionary stalking towards them. As it advanced, Claudia said, "You may leave Silent Hill, but Silent Hill never leaves you. If you think you can stop me, then by all means, follow me there. Should you survive my Missionary, anyway…"

Heather turned briefly, to see Claudia walking away. Then she looked at the creature, which was advancing on Harry. She shot at it with the pistol she got at the shopping centre, causing it to turn and face her. As it stalked towards her, she slid the pistol along the ground to Harry. "Where'd you get this?!" Harry demanded.

"Not now, Dad!" Heather yelled. "Save it for when we don't have the fanatic hellbeast trying to carve us new orifices!" She dashed away as the creature lunged, before sending an _Incendio_ at its back. It caught fire, and roared. Harry shot it more times, Heather sliding him a magazine she had picked up at the shopping centre. As it began to charge once more, Heather sent a _Bombarda_ charm its way. That did the trick, turning the creature into a shower of rancid gore.

She stared at the scorch mark, and the mephitic mangled gore surrounding it. Then, the day's events caught up with her, and she emptied her stomach onto the tiles of the rooftop.

"Heather?" Harry asked, coming over. "Are you okay?"

Heather nodded, weakly, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. "I'll live…for the moment, anyway. Listen, we're in trouble. The Cult's found us, as you might have gathered. Some detective called Cartland was hired by the Cult to find us, but he's a patsy, some idiot they suckered into tracking us down. I also encountered some creep called Vincent. Did you ever meet him in Silent Hill?"

"No," Harry said. "It doesn't ring a bell."

"Well, he claimed to be a minister with the Cult, but he also claims that he's not on Claudia's side. He said he preferred more mundane pleasures than spiritual."

"Okay, okay, Heather. Settle down, and then, we'll talk about it, and then, we'll figure out what to do from there…"

 **CHAPTER 3 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **The first true divergence from the plot of** ** _Silent Hill 3_** **has occurred. Harry Mason has survived. And while we've skipped a few parts of the game, well, there wasn't much story in those bits, though I have put in a meeting between Vincent and Heather, which goes a bit differently from the game.**

 **Review-answering time!** **Sakura Lisel** **: It's clear from your review that you've never played the** ** _Silent Hill_** **games. For those of you that haven't, here's a quick overview. I'm using the dates as they would be in the Potterverse (with events** ** _specific to this fanfic_** **underlined** **), as the games themselves have no definitive date, only 'X number of years'…**

 **1973: Dahlia Gillespie, intending to bring forth the dark god of Silent Hill, burns her seven-year old daughter Alessa alive. The combination of the fire, and the agony Alessa goes through, effectively makes her the incubator of the dark god of Silent Hill. Alessa splits off half of her soul to prevent the birth of the dark god, and this half becomes an infant (later named Cheryl Mason) Harry Mason and his wife find on the edge of Silent Hill. The events of** ** _Silent Hill Origins_** **would happen here.**

 **Early to mid 1980: Harry Mason's wife dies. Alessa has a spell cast on her that summons her other half back to Silent Hill. The events of** ** _Silent Hill_** **occur. Briefly, Cheryl asks her father to take her to the town, but they are involved in an accident shortly afterwards. Harry Mason, when he comes to, finds Cheryl missing, and searches the town for her. Dahlia deceives Harry into believing Alessa (who appears as the phantom of a teenaged girl, as she is fourteen by this point) is actually a demon who kidnapped Cheryl, and is trying to shroud the town in darkness, and urges him to use a special talisman on her before a sigil Alessa is creating is completed. Harry realises his mistake too late, and Dahlia forces Alessa and Cheryl to be fused together into one being once more, the Incubator. Dr Kaufmann, a former ally of Dahlia's who has become disillusioned with her cause, uses Aglaophotis to force the premature 'birth' of the dark god, a devilish being called the Incubus. Harry defeats the Incubus, and is given the chance to escape by the dying Alessa, who gives him another infant, a new incarnation of herself. He escapes with the new incarnation of Alessa/Cheryl.**

 **July 1980: Fearing retribution from the Cult, Harry contacts his wife's relatives, and allows Lily Potter to adopt Cheryl, who is renamed Heather Potter** **.**

 **Late 1997: The events of** ** _Silent Hill 3_** **, and this story, take place. Heather is now 17, biologically. However, her soul and mind is now 31. And she still has the dark god of Silent Hill slumbering within her.**

 **jgkitarel** **: Too true. This will be even more of the case as this fic goes on, as she will be the strongest influence on the town when she goes there.**

 **1\. This is the name given to him in a novelisation (published only in Japan, AFAIK).**


	42. Heather Potter and the Legacy of Chap 4

_**HEATHER POTTER AND THE LEGACY OF ALESSA**_

 **CHAPTER 4:**

 **EXPEDITION**

It was like being at a confession. Then again, Heather at least could trust her father. There were only three people off the top of her head she trusted as much: Hermione, Luna, and Neville. Ron, she still had a few issues with after the whole Tri-Wizard Tournament fiasco. And while Harry Mason was not her actual father, he had been so for the seven years she had been Cheryl Mason, and for the past two years as Heather Potter. She loved him as much as she would have, had her actually been her father.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose at the end of the explanation. "I should have figured they would send a detective, sooner or later. You're lucky you got here when you did, Heather. That damned thing was playing with me, but I knew it was going to kill me before long."

"I was lucky Snape taught me that healing spell," Heather said. "Yet another thing to be grateful to him for. Dad, I'm sorry that I dragged you into this again."

Harry waved his hand. "Both times, it was this damned Cult. First, Dahlia cast that spell on Alessa to draw Cheryl to her, and now, they've hired a detective." He then turned to Heather, urgency in his eyes. "You still have the Aglaophotis?"

Heather fondled the pendant around her neck. "Yes, though I'm not looking forward to taking it. I remember when Kaufmann threw it on me when Dahlia turned me into the Incubator. It was like having a bucket of acid poured all over me. Even the Cruciatus Curse didn't hurt as badly," Heather murmured. "Of course, that was nothing compared to the pain that I felt when that…thing emerged…or being burned alive, for that matter. I don't know how I managed to survive when I was Alessa, in that secret room in the hospital. It was only Lisa who helped keep me sane, and I think the Cult murdered her." She felt melancholy as she thought of Lisa Garland, the nurse who had tended to her. "All I know is, I brought her soul into the Otherworld, and her memories were addled by the drugs Kaufmann gave her."

Harry nodded, remembering the times when he encountered the nurse. The penultimate time he saw her, she transformed into a living corpse, wailing for Harry not to leave her. To his shame, he had fled, locking the door behind him. The last time he had seen her was when she attacked Kaufmann. Harry remembered catching a glimpse of Lisa dragging a screaming Kaufmann through the grated floor as Harry and Cybil fled from that hellish place(1).

"Is Cybil still in Brahms?" Heather asked.

Harry shook his head. "I don't know. Last I heard, she was dealing with some murder case. A man murdered his terminally ill wife and fled to Silent Hill. Some said he came back out about a week later, with a kid in tow. If he has, he's on the run. I think his name was James Sunderland(2). She said she'd stop contacting me in case the Cult tracked me down. This was just after Lupin and Black brought you here."

Any further thought on the subject was erased when they heard a knock on the door to the apartment. Given that it was unlikely that either a member of the Cult or one of the monsters, Harry, after a moment, got up, and walked over to the door, peering through the spyhole. "Heather, is this guy Cartland?"

Heather went over to the spyhole, and peered through. She nodded. "Yeah."

Harry opened the door, but put a chain on to be sure. "Harry Mason?" Douglas asked.

"Yeah. You're the detective those bastards hired to track us down."

Cartland put his hands up in a placatory gesture. "Look, I didn't know about this crap going on. Monsters and other worlds…not to mention magic. I just wanted to make sure that you and Heather were okay."

"No thanks to you," Harry said. "I know you're not with the Cult, that you were only doing your job, but you still led them to us. It's only thanks to Heather that I'm still alive."

"Well, I'm glad you are, because then I'd have to be apologising to a distraught teenaged girl for getting her father killed. Did enough of that in the police force," Cartland said bitterly. "But I also want answers, and I don't think my employers will be giving me any. Mr Mason, I've seen and heard a lot of impossible things in the last few hours. I've seen monsters, the entire world turn into Hell, and your daughter use magical powers. I just want to know what the hell is going on."

After some thought, Harry let the detective in. However, he then said to Heather, "Call your godfather."

Heather nodded, and as she left, she heard Cartland say, "Godfather?"

"Mick Orion," she heard her father explain, using Sirius' chosen pseudonym. Orion came from Sirius' middle name, while Mick came from the first name of his favourite musician. Muggle musician, anyway.

She went to her room and found the mirror. She had the mirror for Sirius, but the diaries for everyone else. She called out his name, and soon, his face appeared on the surface. " _Heather?_ " he asked. " _Is everything alright?_ "

"No, we've got a problem. The Cult's after us again. Are you free?"

" _For my goddaughter, always_ ," Sirius said.

Sirius, after taking up residence in Las Vegas, had invested much of his family's fortune into the town (he told Heather once that his mother would be spinning in her grave at the thought of so much investment into Muggle properties and business, something they both laughed at). He'd become known as a recluse, not unlike Howard Hughes when he lived at the Desert Inn. In truth, Sirius did enjoy the nightlife of Las Vegas, but used charms to disguise his face.

He also helped police the magical side of things in Vegas. The local Aurors knew who he was, but had subjected him to Veritaserum interrogation (Las Vegas' magical community was, ironically, one of the more sensible in the United States, never mind the world). He could never join the Aurors there, as he hadn't actually been officially cleared in Britain (and given the climate there, probably never would), but he acted as an information broker in the city.

One thing he would drop everything for, though, was to help his goddaughter. So when Heather got back into the living room, she was gratified to see Douglas nearly shit himself when a dark-haired, handsome man suddenly appear, nearly tripping on the carpet. "I hate Apparition," Sirius muttered. He then turned to Harry. "Nice to see you again, Harry. Who's this guy?"

"Douglas Cartland. I'm a detective."

"Ah. Well, I'm Mick Orion, and I'm a wizard. Harry, please tell me I don't have to use a Memory Charm?"

"I used magic in front of him already, Uncle Orion," Heather said. "I don't think he's going to break the Statute of Secrecy."

"Who'd believe me, anyway?" Cartland asked. "They'd chuck me in the nuthouse if I talked about this. Hell, most people think I'm one foot in the nuthouse door anyway."

Sirius grinned. "Don't worry. You're in good company. I was kept in a wizard prison for a dozen years for a crime I didn't commit. And the guards wouldn't look out of place in Silent Hill. I was more than a little loopy afterwards."

Heather winced at the reminder of the Dementors. They would look right at home within Silent Hill, true. She hoped the town wouldn't form analogues of them when they returned. It wasn't a matter of if, really.

* * *

It took some time to fill Sirius in. "So…are we going to go after Claudia?" Sirius asked.

Heather nodded. "One way or another, she needs to be stopped. She tried to have Dad killed. She wants her god born. She thinks it will be paradise, but at best, it will be basically like being mindless livestock."

"Charming way of putting it," Cartland said with a wince.

"Yeah, and the thing is, she's going to keep attacking us. I ran from Voldemort and Dumbledore, true, but I can't run from this. And I owe it to Claudia to save her from her own delusions," Heather said.

"Can you save her?" Harry asked.

"I can try. But if I have to…" Heather shook her head. "I don't want to think about it. Stopping the birth of their god is the priority."

"And the Aglaophotis can't be taken any sooner?" Cartland asked.

"Snape was very clear on that, last time I asked. It has to be as close to the 'birth' as possible, so that every trace of it can be purged from me. Too soon, and there'll be remnants of it that could regrow. Too late, and I die, even if the god dies too." Heather clutched at the pendant. "Even killing me won't guarantee that the god will die with me, despite what Dumbledore thought."

"So, do we head to Silent Hill?" Sirius asked.

Harry nodded. "I don't intend to let those bastards get away with this. We'll take my car."

* * *

They packed, and got themselves ready for an expedition to Silent Hill, then headed to the garage of the apartment building. They found someone unexpected and, to Heather, unwelcome waiting for them there. "Hiya, Heather," Vincent said, waving at them.

"Friend of yours, Heather?" Sirius asked.

"Not really. Just an ally of convenience," Heather retorted.

"Well, I guess that is an accurate, if unflattering, description," Vincent said. "You must be Harry Mason, you're that detective that Claudia hired, and…" He peered at Sirius, before laughing. "As I live and breathe! Sirius Black!"

Black scowled. "You know who I am? Are you a wizard?"

"I'm actually a Muggle, though I have contacts in your world," Vincent said. "I'm Vincent Smith."

"So you're the priest of the Cult who's against Claudia?" Harry asked, suspicious.

"Of course. I'm sure it must be galling to have to work with me, but frankly, I don't want God born any more than you do. My tastes are somewhat materialistic, and Claudia's plans would put a halt to that."

"Why can't you do your own dirty work?" Sirius scowled.

"Let's just say that I'm not fond of sweaty clothes, or bloody hands," Vincent said with a smirk. "Then again, the same could be said about many mages." Then, he became serious, handing over a map. "If you're heading to Silent Hill, you need to find Leonard."

"Leonard?" Heather said, taking the map. "You mean…Claudia's father?"

"So your memories _have_ returned," Vincent said with a smile. "Well, he's in possession of a valuable little trinket. The Seal of Metatron. I mean, did you actually _have_ a plan to deal with God?"

"Aglaophotis," Harry said. "We have a small supply with Heather at all times."

Vincent's eyes widened in surprise, and then his smile did too. "Excellent! Well, it's good to have a back-up. I mean, Harry and Heather remembers what the Seal does. Heather was using it as Alessa seventeen years ago, and Harry saw it in action, though that crazy hag mother of Alessa's told him it was the Seal of Samael."

"I know. I intended to use it to annihilate myself, along with that… _thing_ inside me," Heather said.

"Well, this Seal is a bit more specific in that it can be targeted a little more precisely," Vincent said. "It's either in Leonard's own house, or else with him at Brookhaven Hospital. Of course, as you have already suspected, the town has awakened, and I'm sure you know what that means, having been Alessa and all. Should be fun, I daresay." He smirked, before waving cheerfully. "See you there," he said as he walked off.

Cartland looked at Sirius. "Why did that guy call you Sirius Black?"

"That's my real name," Black said. "I'm still a wanted man in Britain, and only the fact that I passed a test with a magical truth serum means that I can stay in the United States. I told you, I was put into prison for a crime I didn't commit. If I showed my face back home, they'd execute me. Or as good as."

* * *

Vincent left the apartment complex, and headed to his car. The influence of Silent Hill was fading from this area, thankfully. A combination of Claudia's powers and the influence of God on Heather had allowed the town to reach out. And now, here he was, heading back into the dragon's lair. Of course, so too was Heather and her little band.

It was good that Heather had Aglaophotis. Had Harry sought it out? If so, clever man. Even so, Vincent decided he needed to track some more down, just in case things went awry.

In matters involving Silent Hill, they invariably did…

 **CHAPTER 4 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **The return of Sirius! And the preparations to take the fight to the enemy! You'll note that, unlike the game, instead of Vincent meeting Douglas off-screen, we have him meeting the four heading to Silent Hill.**

 **1\. As far as this fic is concerned, the Good+ ending of** ** _Silent Hill_** **is canon.**

 **2\. As far as this fic is concerned, the Leave ending of** ** _Silent Hill 2_** **is canon.**


	43. Resident Evil: Basilisk Chapter 1

**_Resident Evil: Basilisk_ was the first, and to date, only Harry Potter fic I wrote in the first person. Not the first fanfic I ever wrote in the first person: that honour belongs to my Borderlands fanfic _Hooked on a Feeling_ , told from the POV of a semi-SI OC. I also wanted to capitalise on the success of _Henry Ashford and the Goblet of Fire_ , but I found my interest waning. Therefore, I decided to abandon it and archive it here in _The Cauldron_. Enjoy.**

* * *

 _ **RESIDENT EVIL: BASILISK**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **DISRUPTING THE STASIS QUO**

When I thought about where I, Harry James Potter, would be, eleven years after killing Voldemort, one of the many things I never thought I would be would be stuck in a stasis tank, dressed in a skintight combat suit out of some kinky fetish fantasy, and breathing cold oxygenated liquid. But, well, that's where I ended up. It wasn't where I was going to remain, for obvious reasons. Don't get me wrong, I actually didn't mind being in stasis per se. It's an interesting sensation to breathe liquid, even more so when you're doing it without the benefit of gillyweed (I would have appreciated that better during the Second Task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, had I not been scared for the hostages' lives). But there's the fact that I was at the mercy of a narcissistic would-be genocide who looks like a Malfoy got an eye transplant from Voldemort, has the eugenics fixation of both, and who moves, literally, faster than a speeding bullet.

Now, you know that old saying, about how misery loves company? Well, as it turned out, I had a fellow prisoner. In fact, Wesker (the aforementioned narcissistic genocidal bastard with the blonde hair and reptilian eyes) was trying to turn me into a copy of her, complete with kinky battlesuit (mine being more tailored to a male body, obviously), painful mind control device implanted in the chest, and dangerously experimental viral enhancements. Thankfully, unlike her, the experiments didn't turn my hair blonde. Not that I mind blonde hair on most people. It's just that seeing it on the Malfoys sort of put me off for life for having it myself.

I'm still wondering how it happened. I'm guessing, as I don't have ANY knowledge of virology whatsoever, or how magic would interact with them. But when Wesker and that buxom bitch Excella pumped me full of the same shit that my fellow prisoner and guinea pig had in her, well, a link of sorts formed. Don't ask me how. The upshot is that even in stasis, we could talk to each other.

It turns out that my fellow prisoner and Wesker have a lot of history. Her name is Jill Valentine, and she used to be a member of Raccoon City Police Department's Special Tactics And Rescue Squad, aka STARS. Think like an elite SWAT team, almost like a military unit within the police. Anyway, Wesker used to be the head of STARS in Raccoon City, but he was also a top researcher for the Umbrella Corporation, and not a very nice person at all, to say the least. Umbrella, you see, had this front of being a major, respected and very philanthropic pharmaceuticals company, but in reality, was researching biological weapons, particularly one called the Tyrant Virus or T-Virus. Normally, when people are infected by that, they turn into zombies. I'm not making this up. Then again, what happened at Raccoon is now a matter of public record.

Anyway, a couple of months after I beat Voldemort, and was trying to figure out what to do with my life, Jill Valentine and other members of STARS were investigating a mansion in the countryside outside Raccoon City. They were investigating some bizarre murders where the victims were apparently partly eaten. They were forced to take refuge in the mansion from some aggressive zombie dogs. I won't bore you with the details, only that Wesker proved to be a traitor, and was thought to be dead, and the only survivors were Jill, her comrade and best friend Chris Redfield, Barry Burton, a rookie called Rebecca Chambers, and a rather cowardly pilot called Brad Vickers.

Now, because Umbrella had their claws in the city, STARS couldn't convince the authorities to investigate Umbrella. Most of them left Raccoon, though Jill stayed to try and do some further investigations. Then, the T-Virus got unleashed in the city, thanks to a ham-handed attempt by Umbrella to assassinate one of their researchers, William Birkin, and take the new virus he was developing, the G-Virus, or God Virus. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with these people?

I remember reading the newspaper reports of an epidemic in Raccoon City. Not that it created zombies, or that monsters of all kinds were running around. I would learn that later. Jill, of course, was right in the middle of it, being pursued by a big, hulking, fugly monster called the Nemesis. It was thanks to the Nemesis that she got her lovely collection of viruses in her bloodstream. Thankfully, an Umbrella-hired mercenary called Carlos whom she teamed up with found a vaccine. She managed to escape Raccoon with Carlos, thanks to Barry Burton coming in with a helicopter(1).

I should really fast-forward the next little bit. Jill and Chris, being amongst the founding members of the BSAA (Biohazard Security Assessment Alliance), tracked down Ozwell E Spencer, the founder of Umbrella, and all-round megalomaniacal arsehole. Wesker had beaten them to him, and had killed Spencer just before they got there. They fought, and Wesker, having the unfair advantages of superhuman speed, inhuman endurance, and subhuman bastardry, kicked their arses soundly. Jill, in a last-ditch effort to stop Wesker from killing Chris, tackled Wesker and sent him out of a window.

Whether Jill's survival was fortunate or unfortunate depends on your opinion. Long story short, Wesker brought her here, and did all sorts of nasty things to her involving pseudo-scientific experimentation.

I joined her some months ago. Shortly after that whole mess with Voldemort, I realised, I had always had to dance to someone else's tune. Mostly Dumbledore's, but also to the expectations of Magical Britain, as well as being servant to the Dursleys. And now that Voldemort was dead, along with so many friends, I realised I felt hollow.

I couldn't continue with Ginny. She took it well, better than Ron. I told her that she was right, that I hadn't been happy unless facing Voldemort, and now that he was gone, I didn't know what to do. I needed to find a new purpose in life, and frankly, I wasn't sure I could find it in Magical Britain. Ginny let me go with tears in her eyes, but a genuine wish for me to find my happiness. I think Ron and Molly were more upset than Ginny was, and certainly more angry.

As it turned out, being both the Boy Who Lived and the Vanquisher of Voldemort opened more than a few doors for me. I got into a discussion with Kingsley Shacklebolt, who was freshly sworn-in as the Minister for Magic, and after some discussion, he told me of Gringotts having their own security firm. In effect, a mercenary outfit or a PMC. Though mostly used for guarding their curse-breakers and escorting their money, the services of Ragnuk (named for one of the Goblins' most famous figures) were available to those willing to treat with them.

Now, it took a while for the Goblins to accede to the idea. I had, after all, effectively stolen an item from Gringotts, and had withheld one of their most precious items (they had this weird idea that they owned the Sword of Gryffindor) from what they thought was their rightful ownership. But a lot of gold from the Potter family vaults, and a full explanation for what happened, went a long way to smoothing ruffled feathers. And to tell the truth, I know the Goblins considered it a major coup to recruit the Boy Who Lived.

I made a name for myself, working with the curse-breakers, keeping them safe, even Bill Weasley, on the few occasions Fleur would let him out. But even then, I didn't quite know whether I had found what I was looking for. I became known as Basilisk, which was my codename in Ragnuk.

Anyway, that changed for the worse in late 2008. Gringotts had decided to try and mount an expedition to Kijuju, a small country in Africa, and to the ruins of the Ndipaya Kingdom. Recently, the magical leadership of the Ndipaya tribe had fallen silent, with the last message being a curt message to Gringotts saying that they no longer acknowledged their debts to Gringotts. Now, that meant we could do some tomb-raiding, as a form of repossession, though the higher-ups were confused. The Ndipaya tribe, while remote, had some loans from Gringotts to help with their housing, outside of the swamp, anyway, as well as to find ways to preserve their heritage. And the Ndipaya, besides being warriors (which commanded the Goblins' respect), were also very polite to the Goblins, so to have this curt discourtesy was out of character.

As it turned out, well, things went badly. One thing that will haunt me to the rest of my days would be the tribesmen, decked out in war costumes, swarming us. They resisted most of the spells we threw at them, often getting up after what suffering what would have been crippling wounds on others. I remember Bill, who was with us, being hacked to pieces. After that, in my anger, I started handing out Killing Curses like candy, only to be knocked out from behind. As it turned out, Wesker had been watching, and had been astonished to find that the would-be tomb raiders were wizards and witches.

Long story short, I ended up here, at a research facility near that ancient underground city of the Ndipaya. I don't know how long I've been here, only that it has been for some months now at least.

Thankfully, while I am still under his control, Wesker monologues about what he's going to do to the world with some new bioweapon called Uroboros. He's got some sleazy, immature nutbag called Irving as a middle-man. And he's going to have Jill and I as his personal attack dogs for when the BSAA notice what's going on in Kijuju.

Which is why I'm planning a jailbreak. Wesker has noticed that he has had to replace the injector device on my chest once. I didn't dare do so more than that. Apparently using enough magic causes a short-circuit inside it. Plus, I'm hoping that I can get Jill's out with a summoning spell. That's what I've told her. And we've got means of escaping. Unfortunately, our plan is a lot of 'Step 1: Break free', 'Step 2: ?', and 'Step 3: GLORIOUS FREEDOM!' The finer details haven't been worked out. They can't be worked out in advance.

As I float in my cold prison, I hear Jill's voice echo along our link. _Heads up, Harry. Wesker's just taken me out. He's about to take you out. Do you think this will work?_

 _I don't know. But it's our best chance of escape, isn't it?_ I replied. _Besides, Wesker ganked me before he could see what I could really do with magic. Be prepared: I've got to use the summoning spell, and it will be painful._

 _Hopefully, it won't rip out my sternum_ , Jill said wryly.

I felt the liquid around me drain, and I choked up the cold liquid that had supported me all these years. Wesker hauled me out none-too-gently, and opened up the battlesuit to check on the device injecting the drug keeping me under his control.

Which was when I flared my magic, and caused the device to explode in his face. It was painful for me, but thankfully, all I got were a few cuts and a burn. Wesker, however, clutched at his face and grunted in pain.

As Wesker reeled back, I pointed my hand at him and yelled, " _DEPULSIO!_ " Wesker was sent flying over the railing. We were on a sort of massive elevator platform, surrounded by a massive shaft filled with stasis tanks. Wesker fell over the edge with a yelp of surprise, a far cry from his usual calm and collected self.

As Jill advanced on me, I pointed to her chest and yelled, " _ACCIO_ , CONTROL DEVICE!" With a sickening ripping noise, the device ripped its way free from Jill, who screamed in pain. Thankfully, the only injuries were some small wounds from the device's anchors. I slammed it to the ground and stomped on it, and then rushed to the control panel, and began activating the massive elevator.

Jill, rubbing at her chest, muttered, "I didn't think that was going to work."

I spared a glance at her. Damn, she looked hot in that skintight battlesuit. Blonde hair framing a lovely face, although her eyes were far paler than they should have been. Blame the exposure to the viruses Wesker put into her. But there was no mistaking, even as she recovered from having that device ripped from her chest, that she was ready for action. She could kick some serious arse. As I returned to the panel, I said, "We're lucky it did work. Now comes the hard part."

"Indeed," purred a familiar, hated voice. I whirled from the control panel to see Wesker in the process of leaping off the wall of the shaft back onto the platform. "Clever little bastard, aren't you?"

"Well, I see we have one thing in common," I said, backing away, and grabbing onto Jill's hand. There was one possibility that I could use, but I didn't know whether it would work. "We're hard to kill."

"Oh, I know you're called the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter," Wesker said with a smile. "But that is mere hyperbole. You won't die yet, as I still have need of you. But your usefulness is coming to an end."

As he blurred towards us, ready to beat us into submission, I closed my eyes, and hoped beyond hope that this would work…

* * *

With a deafening crack, Jill and I sprawled to the ground. I hate Apparation. Well, most forms of magical transport, really, save for broomsticks. Riding a Dragon or a Thestral wasn't so bad either. But Apparation? Floo Network? Portkeys? The Knight Bus? No thanks.

I had enough time to realise that we were in the middle of a rather dank and filthy-looking butcher's shop when we were confronted by a man with a hooked nose, wearing a turban, staring at us both. "Who are you?!" he demanded, not unreasonably, in accented English. "What are you doing here?!"

Jill merely glared, and took a battle stance. But then, the man peered at her, and murmured, "Impossible…"

"How do you know her?" I asked.

Jill's eyes roved around the shop, and I saw what she did, things that were partly concealed, things that had no place in a remote butcher's shop, before she looked at the man. "BSAA?"

The man nodded. "Reynard Fisher, West African branch. Agent Valentine…is it really you?"

"Yeah. We'll talk in a moment, we both need first aid. But where are we?"

"The Kijuju Autonomous Zone," Reynard said. He shook his head, turning away. "I had thought that image they had found to be a hoax. Clearly I was mistaken."

"What image?" Jill demanded.

"One of you, Agent Valentine." He rummaged around in one of the shelves, before finding a first aid kit. "I'll treat your wounds. Then, you both have to tell me what is going on…"

* * *

Over the next day, we spoke to Reynard, who debriefed us. It turned out that Reynard was one of BSAA's main agents in the area, feeding information about local events to the BSAA. He also turned out to know about the magical world: he was a Squib, and so knew who I was, saving a lot of hassle in that regard. The BSAA was launching an operation to intercept Ricardo Irving, though the knowledge that not only Wesker was involved, but Excella Gionne, head of Tricell, was even more so. Tricell, after all, was one of the companies who had founded the BSAA. And the knowledge that the Las Plagas was being disseminated amongst the populace was only icing on the cake, explaining the xenophobic nationalism spreading amongst the citizens of Kijuju. Jill and I knew that Wesker was using a modified form of Las Plagas to bring the populace under his control.

The intel we sent on Wesker, Uroboros, and Tricell doubtless sent shivers down the spines of the BSAA's commanders, but they didn't intend to cancel the mission, merely expand its scope covertly. Jill had requested that the operative being sent not be told of her status, especially once she learned who it was: none other than Chris Redfield. Another local agent, Sheva Alomar, was to accompany him.

Early the next morning, the two operatives arrived. They were definitely an odd couple, I noted as I watched them approach from a window. One looked like a stereotypical meathead, musclebound and with a handsome face framed by brown hair. But you could see the twinkle of both compassion and intelligence in his eyes, as well as the haunting loss he had suffered. This had to be Chris Redfield.

The other was a young African woman, slim and slender, dressed deceptively casually, but with the gait of a soldier and seasoned operative. She was quite beautiful, I thought. This must be Sheva.

Jill and I made our way to the back of the butcher's shop, and waited for Reynard to allow them in. All that Chris and Sheva were being told were that they would be joined by new operatives, something that didn't sit right with either of them, judging by their apprehension.

After giving them their weapons to check, and telling them where they needed to go, I heard Chris say, "The brass said there were complications, and that our mission parameters have been expanded."

Reynard replied, "Yes. You've heard of Uroboros?"

"Just rumours. Something about a doomsday project." Chris' tone was uneasy. He obviously didn't like hearing about new bioweapons. Given that he had encountered more than one, I couldn't blame him.

"Doomsday is about right, and they're no rumours. Yesterday, two people ended up here by accident. What they had to tell paints a terrifying picture. They're the ones accompanying you to the deal location. While their intel is good, we still need to bring a man called Ricardo Irving into custody."

"Who are these people? Can we trust them?" Sheva asked.

"I know you, Redfield, can trust one of them personally. The other has something of a big reputation in certain circles." Reynard then called out, "You two, come out here."

As we walked around from behind a wall, I could see Chris Redfield's jaw dropping. Sheva looked at us bemused. We were still dressed in the battlesuits (they're surprisingly comfortable, even in African heat), and we were now armed to the teeth.

"Jill? But…"

"Hi, Chris," Jill said. "Been a long time, hasn't it?"

Chris seemed unwilling to believe that it was real. But then, the warring emotions on his face ceased, and he strode up to Jill, embracing her in a massive bear hug. I grinned, and even Jill laughed. Sheva watched on with a bemused but indulgent smile. Reynard, however, had to spoil it all by clearing his throat pointedly and loudly. At least he didn't act like Umbridge, despite the similar throat-clearing habit.

"As good as it is to see a heartwarming reunion, you have a mission. The clock is ticking…"

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Well, hope you enjoyed that. Jill, with Harry's help, has escaped Wesker's clutches, and there are now four BSAA agents ready to kick Majini arse.**

 **1\. I'm taking the best ending of** ** _Resident Evil 3_** **as canon for this work.**


	44. Resident Evil: Basilisk Chapter 2

_**RESIDENT EVIL: BASILISK**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **REUNION AND RAZING**

Sheva frowned as we finished an abridged version of what had happened. "So, what you're saying is that this Albert Wesker has teamed up with Excella Gionne of Tricell?"

"And we're facing possible Las Plagas infectees, like the Ganados Leon Kennedy encountered?" Chris asked.

Jill nodded. "If it weren't for Harry, I might still have been under Wesker's control."

"Have the brass accepted Harry coming with us?" Sheva asked.

Reynard nodded. "He may not look like much, but Harry has a decade's worth of experience in the Ragnuk PMC. Of course, it goes without saying that, while BSAA personnel are allowed to know about magic, it must be kept secret."

"Magic," Chris said, shaking his head. "Well, half the stuff I saw some of Umbrella's monsters do seemed like magic. Why not actual wizards?"

"You seem quick to trust me," I said, looking at Chris. "Not that I'm complaining, mind, it's a refreshing change, but…"

"If the brass think you're on the level, then I'll go with it. And you did get Jill out of there," Chris said.

"Thanks," I said, thinking back to the wonderful and glorious times of the Fourth and Fifth Years at Hogwarts, where distrust towards me was high, especially in Fifth Year. I could tell Chris was slightly wary, but willing to accept me being around.

"You're welcome." His eyes flickered to the wand at my hip. "You even have a wand and everything."

I nodded, pulling it from its holster. The satchel containing the Cloak of Invisibility was also on the battlesuit, Wesker having attached it to the battlesuit along with the wand holster when he realised how much of an asset they could be. "Yep. Normally, I don't cast lethal spells, but these infectees, sadly, are too far gone to be cured of Las Plagas. They use an engineered form that takes over the host body in less than a minute. However, I'll probably be the team medic, so give me your first aid stuff. I won't be using guns. I don't need them."

"All right. But keep in mind, we're a team. We stick together," Chris said.

"Sure." I found myself liking Chris already, despite my impression of him being a meathead. He certainly had the charisma needed to be a good leader, and also didn't talk down to others. Then again, while we were still in stasis, Jill often spoke to me through our link of him. She admired him, even loved him, and it was easy to see why he was admirable. Jill's survival had taken a weight off his broad shoulders.

"In the event of any big crowd of Majini or an Uroboros monster," I continued, "stay back. I've got a few high-level spells in my arsenal, but they're dangerous to get in the way. In narrow areas or single ones, I'll use less powerful spells, or else leave it to you guys. Just keep in mind that my magical ability isn't infinite. I can run out."

Chris nodded, and then looked at us. To his three comrades in this mission into the unknown, he said, "Okay, let's move out…"

* * *

Now, for those of you who are confused, let's have a nice primer on Las Plagas. It's not a virus as much as a parasite, found only in a remote part of Spain. Some years ago, Leon Kennedy, himself an alumnus of the Raccoon City School of Zombie Apocalypse Survival, became part of an organisation charged with protecting the family of the President of the United States. Just as Leon was fully inducted, the President's daughter, Ashley, got kidnapped, and Leon had to rescue her. She had been taken to Spain by agents of Los Illuminados, a small but powerful cult that had taken control of a remote Spanish village, using Las Plagas. You see, when Las Plagas infects someone, it removes their sentience. Not their intelligence: the infectees (dubbed the 'Ganados' or 'cattle' by Los Illuminados' leadership) are capable of using cars and weapons, and they can speak to each other. But their free will is gone, and they're not really people anymore.

Of course, some Las Plagas parasites allow the infectee to retain their free will. Apparently the Los Illuminados leader Lord Osmund Saddler, along with Castellan Ramon Salazar, had these special parasites. Saddler wanted to implant Ashley, and then Leon, with these things. Thankfully, Leon and Ashley managed to remove the parasites before they fully matured. Unfortunately, once fully mature, the person the infectee once was dies. And Wesker's engineered Las Plagas parasites mature within a minute.

Wesker and Excella, in a fit of dark humour, decided to call the infectees 'Majini'. The local language is Swahili, and 'Majini' means 'evil spirits'. A perverse joke, at the expense of so many people's lives.

* * *

As we made our way through the back-alleys, trying not to gag on smells that weren't normal, even for a relatively poor African country, we stayed alert. Sheva looked at Jill and I, and asked, "Aren't you hot in those suits?"

"The latest in Umbrella battlesuit technology," I replied. "Whatever it is, it's surprisingly cool. Personally, though, I think Wesker had a fetish for this sort of thing."

"What can you tell us about Irving?" Chris asked.

"Annoying, sleazy, acts like he's high on something most of the time," Jill replied. "Ugly little bastard too, inside and out. Thinks himself a businessman, when in reality, he's just a small-time weapons merchant specialising in bioweapons. He's competent, but not all there, and when stress gets to him…"

"He loses it," I concluded. "He's like a petulant toddler with a screw loose and a New Jersey accent."

"And he is selling bioweapons to terrorists," Sheva murmured with a shudder.

After making our way past a cow carcass and a hut filled with skulls and other lovely things, we heard a scream coming from a house. Bad things were happening there, obviously, and we rushed to a door, and opened it, weapons at the ready.

A pair of men were forcing something down the throat of another man, who was on his knees, and crying out in pain and fear. The two men turned to face us. They both snarled upon being discovered in the process of some kinky violation, and fled.

"Harry, they've infected him!" Jill said.

I nodded. "Lemme try something. _ACCIO_ , PARASITE!"

A writhing mass of tentacles flew out of the man's throat, a spray of spittle and blood in its wake. He coughed and gagged, while I set the parasite on fire with an _Incendio_ spell. I hoped that I had gotten it out before its removal could do any major damage to the man.

Chris rushed over and helped the man. "Hey, are you all right?"

The man looked at him, and spoke in Swahili, his voice rasping and punctuated by coughing. Sadly, neither Jill or I spoke it (although I could use a Translation Charm), and it seemed neither did Chris. However, Sheva walked over, and spoke, gently and calmly. I cast the charm on all of us, discreetly. "… _monsters attacked me!_ " the man babbled. " _They were going to shove that…THING down my throat!_ "

"How come I understand him now?" Chris asked.

"Translation Charm," I said, waggling my wand. To the man, I said, " _Are you all right, sir?_ "

" _Of course I'm not all right!_ " the man snapped, understandably upset. He then peered at me. " _How did you get that thing out of my throat? Are you a warlock?_ "

" _The good kind, I hope_ ," I replied. " _Sir, we need to ask you some questions. I know you might not know the answers, so please, be patient. We're with the BSAA._ "

" _I know. Sheva told me. What do you want to know?_ "

" _Do you know or know of a man called Ricardo Irving? European?_ " Chris asked.

" _That demented lunatic? Yeah, I've met him once or twice. He's got an office beyond the mines_ ," the man said. " _I don't know much more, though. Guy gave me the creeps._ " He began coughing again. " _But I heard he's hanging around Tricell, the ones doing the oil drilling and refining out in the swamps. Damned Tricell! It's only after they really started messing around that this trouble started. Even with the civil war and all…I think they're behind the nationalists who are gaining power, the ones who are possessed._ "

" _They're not possessed, not exactly_ ," Jill said. " _You know that thing they were going to put into you? It's a sort of parasite, it controls your mind. And it's another man behind Tricell who made them even worse than they were. Have you ever seen a man with blonde hair, sunglasses, and dressed in a long black coat?_ "

" _Him? Oh, yes. He's been a couple of times, stirring trouble. He feels like the very devil. I heard him say his name was Albert. Is he the one behind my people's enslavement?_ "

Chris nodded. " _We're trying to get him. Do you have anywhere you can hide?_ "

" _I know of some places. Just be careful. The enslaved ones…they are like demons, and it will take more than bullets and sorcery to take them down_ ," the man said, finally getting to his feet. " _And they detest foreigners. Thank you, though, for your help._ "

As the man left, Sheva shook her head. "They must be trying to increase their numbers to use as footsoldiers. They're getting bolder."

"Wesker's plans are almost complete," Jill said. "He's probably trying to make sure the BSAA are delayed before they can be a threat."

"Can't you use that teleport thing to get us closer?" Chris asked.

I shook my head. "Not really. Firstly, your orders are to capture Irving. Secondly, I need to visualise where we go to, and I've been only to a few places in Wesker's lair. He may have unleashed Lickers, for all I know."

"Lickers?" Chris asked. "Those damned things Kennedy talked about?"

"If you mean those mutant flayed corpses with sharper tongues than my old Potions teacher, then yes," I retorted. "Finally, one of the better places I can take you to is really just one big elevator shaft. If I teleport you there, and the platform's not directly underneath us…"

"A long drop and a sudden stop, I get it," Chris said.

"Good. It's better if I use it to try and get us out of danger, or past some stubborn obstacles. Jill told me about what happened in the Spencer Mansion." Filled with ridiculous puzzles and keys, all because Ozwell E Spencer had a hard-on for such things. At least the obstacle course for the Philosopher's Stone was meant to delay or deter Voldemort from getting the Stone. Maybe the old goat, the late and slightly lamented Dumbledore, should have taken notes from Spencer.

* * *

We encountered some of the Majini along the way, shouting imprecations in Swahili at us. Bullets and some Cutting Curses made short work of them. But in the distance, I could hear someone snarling and shouting harshly in Swahili through a megaphone. Oh, this wasn't good, to say the least. It seemed that Wesker and Excella were already stirring the populace up. I remembered what they called the 'Instigator Majini', who had special megaphones that also projected sound at levels the Las Plagas parasites could hear, and thus helped enhance the power of orders(1).

We made it to a house in time to see we were close to a square of some sort. And in that square, a bunch of the locals, all Majini, were being stirred up by the xenophobic rantings of an Instigator. I couldn't see him yet, though. But then, I heard a familiar voice yell, in English, "You don't know what you're talking about! You can all go to Hell!"

I paled, looking at Sheva. "Wasn't that Fisher?" I rushed to the window, in time to see Reynard on an elevated platform, his head on some sort of chopping block, an Instigator Majini with sunglasses giving an order, and a massive lump of muscle, covered in nails and wearing a hood, wielding a massive axe.

Quickly, I concentrated, Apparating onto the scaffold, and startling the Instigator and the Executioner. I would have doffed my hat Sylvester McCoy style if I had one(2). " _Hello_ ," I said in Swahili, the Translation Charm still working. " _I'm here with the official pardon!_ " Even as I bullshitted through this situation, I looked around briefly, before seeing a stone building nearby. Which was good.

Of course, the bullshitting couldn't last for long.

" _Kill the traitor!_ " the Instigator roared. Clearly, Wesker or one of his underlings had told them about me and Jill.

I grabbed Reynard and ducked around the Executioner's swings. Thank Merlin for experience as a Quidditch Seeker. I managed to leap over to the rooftop I wanted, calling into my earpiece, "Jill, Chris, Sheva, put as much distance and walls as you can between you and the square!"

" _Why? What're you gonna do?_ " Chris demanded.

"Unleash the magical equivalent of napalm on them," I said, grinning despite myself. "It needs utmost control to use properly, though."

I deposited Reynard on the ground, who looked up at me with an understandable look of fear. "Are you going to use Fiendfyre?"

"Fuck the hell _yeah_ ," I said, still grinning. I looked at the Majini, shouting and swearing at me. I bellowed, albeit in English rather than Swahili, " _I AM THE GOD OF HELLFIRE! AND I BRING YOU…_ _ **FIENDFYRE!**_ "

I'm sure Arthur Brown would have approved of my modified lyrics(3).

Diabolical flames burst from my wand, smashing into the scaffold that Reynard nearly met his end on, disintegrating it and sending any Majini on it screaming into an inferno. Then, I directed the flames around the square, Majini consumed by the flames, explosions occurring when the Fiendfyre hit oil barrels.

I hadn't had this much fun for a very long time. I had some pent-up issues from both my time at Durzkaban and Hogwarts, as well as my time imprisoned by Wesker. Killing Majini was good stress release.

Reynard was, of course, all but pissing himself. After all, one didn't summon Fiendfyre lightly. It was difficult to control and disperse, after all. But I managed it, spurred on by anger and hatred and frankly, a bloodlust Bellatrix Lestrange would have been proud of. I actually found myself seeing the faces of Death Eaters amongst the Majini.

And then, it was over. The square was now a blackened, smoking parody of itself. The Majini were all ashes. The buildings were still standing, but many were blackened. I had been holding back somewhat.

As I dismissed the Fiendfyre, I swayed. Woowoowoo, can someone make the world stop spinning? And oops, down into unconsciousness I go…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **What can I say? I wanted to write Harry being awesome. Don't worry, the other characters will get their chance to shine…**

 **1\. Ada's Report in** ** _Resident Evil 4_** **states that the Las Plagas can be influenced by special sound waves. I thought this was a plausible theory as to why the Instigator Majini exist, beyond stirring the other Majini up.**

 **2\. Sylvester McCoy played the Seventh Doctor in** ** _Doctor Who_** **. He had a habit of doffing his straw hat in odd situations. In the last classic series story,** ** _Survival_** **, he does so shortly after tripping up a Cheetah Person.**

 **3\. Harry's bellowing is a reference to the opening of the song** ** _Fire_** **by Arthur Brown.**


	45. Resident Evil: Basilisk Chapter 3

_**RESIDENT EVIL: BASILISK**_

 **CHAPTER 3:**

 **MEMORIES, MAJINI, AND MASSACRE**

Unleashing Fiendfyre was, admittedly, not one of my smarter moves. Then again, being Sorted into Gryffindor sort of ensured my impulse control was a bit on the dodgy side. So, as I recovered from a slight case of magical exhaustion, I had a brief trip down memory lane.

It was the day I first was able to talk to Jill. I don't know how it came about, and I'm not sure when it happened, only that it was about a couple of weeks since I was captured.

" _Well, this bites_ ," I was muttering to myself in my mental landscape. After being recruited by Ragnuk, I had worked on my Occlumency with teachers who were a damned sight better than a certain big-nosed, greasy-haired, grudge-holding son of a bitch known as Severus Snape. I had learned how to create a mental landscape as a form of defence against intrusion, and now that I was in stasis, trapped in my own mind, it was better than the darkness of unconsciousness. I'd based my mental landscape on Hogwarts and the grounds, but with a lot more sunshine and warm weather. Hey, it's a picturesque place, but it's also in Scotland, and was cold as fuck in reality, especially in winter. " _Whose dick do I have to suck to get some decent conversation around here?!_ " I then howled.

Then, I had heard a reply, one that I wasn't expecting. And in a woman's voice. " _Oh, God, I must be going mad from whatever Wesker's done to me. I'm hearing a Limey going on about fellatio._ "

I blinked. " _Wait, what? Who's there?_ " After a moment, I had snapped, " _I am Captain Harry Potter of the Intergalactic House of Pancakes, ordering you to speak(_ _1)_ _!_ "

Which, admittedly, didn't do much in the way of reassuring my conversational partner of my sanity. But considering I had been trapped within my own mind for what felt like a fucking eternity, I wasn't too sure of that either. Eventually, I had found what looked like a crack in the air. You know, like a common or garden jagged-edged portal into another world. I had poked my head through, and exclaimed, " _GAAARBAGE DAY?! Oh, wait, wrong film. Let me try again. HEEEERE'S JOHNNY(_ _2)_ _!_ "

I found myself face to face with a rather bemused woman in a rather fetishistic black battlesuit, rather like the one I had, only this one was more tailored to the female form. And it had heels. Seriously, high heels on something designed for combat, I ask you. Anyway, her rather beautiful face was framed by long, blonde hair, and her eyes were pale. She was sitting in what looked like a fairly ordinary apartment.

She could've screamed, she could have hit me. Instead, she did something very unexpected.

She held up a large card with the number '6' on it.

I scowled. " _I AM NOT A NUMBER, I AM A FREE MAN(_ _3)_ _!_ "

" _Are you going to quote TV shows or films all the time? I have enough trouble holding onto my sanity as it is_ ," the woman remarked. " _Who the hell are you, and why are you in my head?_ "

" _My head? You're in_ _ **my**_ _head!_ " I retorted indignantly. I looked her up and down. " _Then again, given the outfit, I'm guessing we're both prisoners of Mister Tall, Blonde, and Megalomaniacal, as well as the Italian with the breast implants._ "

" _Tall, Blonde and…you mean Wesker, don't you?_ "

" _Yeah. Seriously, is he wearing sunnies indoors as a lifestyle choice, or because of a medical condition?_ "

" _Sunnies…I thought you were a Brit, not an Australian._ "

" _I got partly trained by an Aussie mercenary_ ," I replied. " _You know him?_ "

" _We go way back. What about you?_ "

" _Only met him recently, though he's an even worse douche than a Malfoy. And considering they elevate being blonde arseholes to an artform, that's saying something. Murdered my team while I was leading them through Kijuju, and now, here I am, a guinea pig stuck in a stasis tank. So, evil ex-boyfriend, is he?_ "

The woman scoffed. " _Hardly. He used to be my superior officer in STARS at Raccoon City._ "

" _Wait, what? Isn't that the city that got nuked because of some epidemic or other?_ "

" _Yeah. What outfit are you with? Army?_ "

" _Corporate PMC, working for a financial institution_ ," I had replied. No need to break the Statute of Secrecy just yet. Then, I frowned. " _Actually, I think I remember you now. Wesker was gloating about having you in his power. Jill Valentine, isn't it?_ "

" _Yeah. And you are…?_ "

" _I shouted my name earlier. Okay, my name and rank weren't exactly right, but I'm Harry Potter of the Ragnuk PMC._ " I reached my hand through the crack. " _Nice to meet you, Jill._ "

From then on, though it was a slightly rocky beginning, we were neighbours, of a sort. Then, comrades with a shared suffering, and a shared desire to get the fuck out of whatever prison Wesker had us in, and kick his blonde-haired megalomaniacal arse. And we even became friends.

Of course, you already know how I escaped, so I'll just get back to the story. And consciousness…

* * *

I woke up a few minutes after my little conniption, it seemed, being slapped (gently) awake by that dark-skinned angel that was Sheva Alomar. There were certainly much worse sights to wake up to, and not that many better ones. She was very beautiful, after all. The fact that she was an intelligent and compassionate person, and a competent operative, merely compounded that. "Hey, wake up, Harry!"

"I'm awake, I'm awake," I said, shaking my head to try and get rid of the spinning. I got up, finding myself and the others standing amongst the ashes and ruins of that village square. "Shit, I must be more out of shape than I thought. Is everyone okay? Well, everyone who isn't a Majini?"

Chris nodded. "What the hell was that?"

"Fiendfyre," Reynard said, looking shaken. "Perhaps the strongest fire-summoning spell one can use. Certainly one of the hardest to control. The fainting was from his exhausting a significant portion of his magical reserves in a short period."

"Still, you've got less of these guys to deal with," I said, grinning shakily. "I think in future I'll save it for somewhat more powerful foes. I just needed to work out a few issues."

Chris looked me up and down, before asking, "Are we going to have any incidents?"

"Chris, I was left with abusive relatives who kept me in a cupboard under the stairs until I was eleven after my parents were murdered. A man I considered a mentor was shaping me into a weapon, albeit with the best of intentions. And I was targeted by a wizard who would certainly have much to talk about with Wesker. I have a lot of issues, man. It's less a case of 'when am I going to snap', and more of a case of 'who am I going to snap at'."

"Chris…you can trust him," Jill said. "I've seen into his memories. Harry is not a bad person."

"How did you see into his memories?" Sheva asked, curiously.

"Telepathic link, somehow caused by the viruses Wesker pumped into him, and the ones I was infected with thanks to the Nemesis and Wesker," Jill said. "We don't know how, but we're not arguing. It was only thanks to that we could plan an escape."

"I can also use magical means, Legilimency, but that's less linking to another's mind, and more breaking and entering," I said offhandedly. "An old teacher with a grudge mind-raped me repeatedly under the pretext of supposedly teaching me how to protect my mind."

"Snape?" Reynard asked.

"Snape," I agreed. As brave Snape had been to go undercover, I reflected, he was a self-serving twat with no loyalty, save to himself, and probably my mother. Not me, not Dumbledore, and not Voldemort.

Reynard sighed. Then, he said, "I will head out of the Kijuju Autonomous Zone and make contact with the BSAA proper. Your orders are to apprehend Irving. Once Irving is secure, we will need you to stop Wesker from fulfilling his plans. Be careful, though. If the intel from Agent Valentine and Potter are correct, Excella Gionne of Tricell is working with Wesker, and Tricell has a lot of pull with the BSAA and its backers. Bring Excella in alive. As for Wesker…use your discretion."

Which was basically saying, _Kill the bastard if you have to_. And I knew that that ersatz-Malfoy (although he pulls off being a Malfoy better than any Malfoy) would never be taken alive.

As Reynard left, Chris looked at me. "You ready to keep going?"

"Yeah."

* * *

Of course, things were never simple. For one thing, I was involved. The Potter Luck tends to complicate things something fierce. And given what Jill told me about her own adventures involving Umbrella and their little viral menagerie (not to mention those she heard of involving Chris, his sister Claire, and a certain Leon Kennedy), they have not dissimilar luck.

We were told over the radio that Alpha Team was about to move in. We warned them to be wary of Irving, and to use incendiary weapons if they should encounter anything that looked like someone literally opened a can of homicidal black worms. Sadly, despite the warning from Jill and I, the next thing we heard from Alpha Team was panicked screaming and death. And judging by the noises we heard in the background, it sounded like Irving had unleashed an Uroboros monster on them.

We had our own little problems to deal with: more Majini. And even when a lull in them seemed to come in the waves of homicidal pseudo-zombies, it was merely a false calm.

We suddenly saw a young woman with blonde hair and in a black dress burst out of the second storey of a house, and scream at us. "HELP ME! FOR GOD'S SAKE, HELP ME!"

Just as a pair of Majini grabbed her, ready to take her back inside, I used an _Accio_ to get her away from them. Well, in theory. In practise, they went along for the ride. I ended up sprawled underneath the lovely young woman, while the Majini got bullets to the brains.

"Oh, God, what the hell was that?" the woman groaned.

"It's classified," I said, as Chris helped her up. "Are you okay? They didn't force anything down your throat?"

She shook her head. "They were about to. I'm Allyson. Who're you guys?"

"We're with the BSAA. Biohazard Security Assessment Alliance," Sheva said. "Allyson, do you know anything about anyone by the names of Ricardo Irving, Excella Gionne, or Albert Wesker?"

"I know Irving. Annoying little runt. Tried to come on to me in a bar, made himself out to be a big businessman. I don't know the names of the others."

I looked at the others, then at her. "Look, I'll take you to where there should be some others not infected. They'll get you out of this part of Kijuju."

"But how are you going to do that?"

With Apparation.

* * *

I Apparated to the butcher's shop, where Reynard and the man they had rescued, who turned out to be called Petero, and a white miner called Adam(4), were just about to get ready to escape the area. Reynard was going to arm them so that they could shoot their way out if they had to.

Four people saved, out of hundreds if not thousands. Then again, Wesker was moving ridiculously fast now.

I left Allyson with the three men to escape, before Apparating back to Jill, Chris, and Sheva. It was Reynard's problem to explain how I could do that.

As I arrived, there was a radio broadcast from Kirk, the leader of this operation. They wanted us to find out what the hell happened to Alpha Team at the 'deal'. We got there quickly enough, but there was the distinctive black oily excretions of an Uroboros monster.

"Stay sharp," Jill said to her former partner and best friend. "If they unleashed an Uroboros creature here…"

Chris and Sheva nodded. We soon found the room with the deal location. More of that oily ooze everywhere, bullet holes, and corpses. One of the men was still alive, but he wouldn't be for long, even with the healing magic I could use.

Chris dashed forward to the man, whom he identified as Dechant. "What the hell happened here?" he asked quietly but urgently. "Who did this, Dechant?"

"Something…attacked us…Irving…he got away…it was a setup…"

"Tricell," I muttered as I tried to use the healing spells anyway. Dechant handed Chris a CD.

Suddenly, we heard a noise from outside, of someone dashing away. Jill rushed to the door, and glared. "It's Irving! He's just taken an elevator down!"

Chris nodded, before looking at Dechant. "…What's on the disc?"

"Data regarding the deal…downloaded from their computer…transmit it to HQ…" Then, Dechant died.

I snarled angrily and stood. "Dammit!"

"Harry…you tried."

"And failed." I ran fingers pensively through my hair.

Chris nodded sympathetically. "I knew him well. Thanks for trying." He then activated the radio. "Kirk, do you copy? We got the data, but Alpha Team has been wiped out by what Jill and Harry are claiming is an Uroboros BOW. Irving's flown the coop."

" _Roger that_ ," Kirk replied. " _There's a vehicle storage facility nearby, with a computer that should still have an uplink. Upload the data to HQ from there. If you can intercept Irving, do so._ "

"Copy that," Chris said. "Dechant was saying this is a setup. Any news on the sponsor matter?" That was the code for the investigation into Tricell and Excella, in case of bugging.

" _No joy, Redfield. The sponsor is being obtuse, and we need to tread carefully where she is concerned. Contact us when you get to the uplink. Kirk out._ "

"Didn't think there'd be any news," Jill muttered. "Tricell's too big a part of the consortium that founded the BSAA."

"We'll have to do what we can," Sheva said.

Chris nodded. "Let's move out."

* * *

A trip down the elevator, and we were in a furnace area, where the door was locked. And just as we found a key, well, surprise, surprise, we got ambushed.

You see, there were corpses, presumably from Alpha Team, strewn around this basement furnace area. And then, from the ceiling, something very large, very messy, and very malevolent fell down with a wet splat. A mass of gigantic writhing black worms, the metaphorical can of worms opened.

I sent a couple of _Incendio_ s at it, even as it began absorbing the corpses, growing stronger, and forming a whole new body. And what was worse was that it was blocking our escape.

"What the hell is that thing?!" Sheva demanded.

"That's what killed Alpha Team!" Jill yelled. "It's an Uroboros creature!"

Even as we began retreating for the furnace, it emitted a triumphant roar as it began to lumber towards us. To it, we were food. Nothing more, nothing less.

And if we weren't careful, we were going to go the same way as Alpha Team…

 **CHAPTER 3 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Sorry about the wait. Hope this was worth it.**

 **Review-answering time!** **Squadpunk 2.0** **: This Harry is not actually sadistic per se, but he's got issues. Well, more of a subscription, really. He was rather like this before Wesker pumped him full of viruses. He's seen a lot of death both during his Hogwarts years, and his time in Ragnuk, and his sarcasm and flippancy is his way of coping. He wouldn't use Fiendfyre on something other than Majini or something similar though, but there's a bit of a pyromaniac about Harry in this story.**

 **knightblazer85** **: I'm not doing that, as I have way too much on my plate to do it, but you could ask someone else to do it.**

 **The Fanfic Stealer** **: Yeah, well, still calling it a genocide. :P**

 **AnthonyR89** **: It's not for everyone, but it's a bloody good show. Even the classic series will have stories you can enjoy.**

 **1\. In the excellent humorous** ** _Half-Life_** **machinima series** ** _Freeman's Mind_** **, Gordon Freeman yells this as he tries to exit the test chamber just after the Resonance Cascade. This version of Gordon Freeman makes an appearance in my Harry Potter and Portal crossover Is Your Great-Aunt an AI?!**

 **2\. 'GARBAGE DAY?!' is a by-now infamous line from what would have been an otherwise obscure horror movie,** ** _Silent Night, Deadly Night Part 2_** **. I first heard it in the first episode of** ** _Yu-Gi-Oh! Season Zero Abridged_** **. As for 'Here's Johnny', it originally came from The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson, but is perhaps more famous worldwide for being delivered by a gurning Jack Nicholson during the Stanley Kubrick adaptation of** ** _The Shining_** **. Little bit of trivia for those of you who haven't read the book: Jack Torrance uses a roque mallet.**

 **3\. Harry is of course quoting Patrick McGoohan's famous line from The Prisoner. And considering his character is called Number 6, it's kind of appropriate, given Jill's score.**

 **4\. I didn't intend on naming the Kijuju local Harry saved from Las Plagas, but quickly looked up names in Swahili. Petero is Swahili for Peter. Adam, meanwhile, is the writer of a blog used to promote** ** _Resident Evil 5_** **,** ** _Experience Kijuju_** **. It is here that the blonde woman attacked by the Majini, Allyson, is named.**


	46. Resident Evil: Basilisk Chapter 4

_**RESIDENT EVIL: BASILISK**_

 **CHAPTER 4:**

 **OF LUNACY**

"We need a plan!" Chris yelled. "Can you use that Fiendfyre in here?"

"Not in a confined space! It's basically superheated plasma with a bad attitude!" I yelled back. "Fire's a good idea, though! I think Wesker bitched about the fact that it was weak against it!"

We ran into the furnace area, and Sheva looked around. "This furnace, can it do the trick?"

"Yeah, but the controls are out here. And I'm guessing they take a while to activate," I muttered. "Looks like someone's going to have to be bait. Lure the damn thing in there, then get the fuck out before they get cooked. Being the mage with the teleportation powers, I volunteer."

"I'll go with you," Sheva said. "If there's too many of us at the control panel, it might try to attack them instead of a single person."

"Sheva, it's too risky!" Chris snapped.

"Chris, we're being attacked by a homicidal BOW. At least with my Apparation, I can get us both out at the last moment." The Uroboros creature burst into the room with a shriek. "Moot point. Boring conversation anyway!"

Sheva and I dashed over near the Uroboros creature. I spotted some gas canisters. "Sheva, when I entangle that canister into the creature, shoot it!"

Sheva nodded, and I used a _Wingardium Leviosa_ to dangle the canister in front of the creature. It promptly, and stupidly, absorbed it. We backed away a little, before firing at the canister. Gas shot out, and ignited in a ball of flame, sending us all sprawling to the floor, and causing the creature to scream.

Sheva helped me up. "Come on!" she yelled.

We scrambled into the furnace, the Uroboros creature loping behind us, realising we had hurt it, and hurt it badly. And it wanted revenge, on some animalistic level. " _Incendio! Incendio!_ " I yelled, firing spells at it to goad it onwards. " _COME ON YOU STUPID OVERSIZED CAN OF WORMS! DON'T YOU WANT YOUR DINNER? YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO WORK FOR IT!_ "

 _Harry_ , Jill sent to me, _try not to piss it off any more than you have to!_

 _I'm fine! It's going to be…_ A tentacle sent me sprawling, putting the lie to my assurances. It loomed over me, ready to smash me into pulp, or perhaps make me into the impromptu star of an Uroboros-style tentacle hentai.

Sheva dragged me away. "Chris, do it now!" she yelled.

"No! He's dazed, he might not be able to do it!" Chris yelled back.

I shook my head, and yelled, "Chris, just do it!"

Alarms rang out, and the doors began shutting. As the Uroboros loomed over Sheva and I, ready to kill us both, I flipped it off, and said, "See ya, wouldn't want to be ya!" And then, I Apparated, bringing Sheva with me.

Sheva helped me up to my feet, and I shook my head to get rid of the dizziness. Beyond the doors, we heard the dying screech of the Uroboros creature as it got cooked. Chris glared at me. "That was reckless."

"That was Gryffindor," I retorted, but he had a point. I knew he was flashing back to the time when Jill sacrificed herself to save Chris from Wesker, a sacrifice Chris thought had ended with her death. I tapped the side of my head. "The viruses Wesker pumped me and Jill full of do wonders for brain injuries. Concussions go away in seconds. Believe me, I've done stupider things against bigger monsters than that."

"Like what?" Chris demanded.

"My codename in Ragnuk is Basilisk," I said. "It was partly because I killed one when I was twelve. Think the biggest, most deadliest snake you can imagine."

Chris and Jill looked at each other, before they looked at me. "Harry, we fought a pretty big snake at the Spencer Mansion," Jill said. Over the mental link, she sent a memory image of a pretty big snake. Seriously, I was surprised they won against such a thing. Then again, Jill took on the Nemesis creature and won. I whistled, before sending back an image of the Basilisk, albeit once its eyes got pecked out by Fawkes.

As Jill gaped, I said, "The poison is almost completely lethal. As far as I know, only Phoenix tears are the cure. But the thing about it is, if you make direct eye contact with it, you're dead. Even indirect eye contact will petrify you." I would have rolled up my sleeve and showed them where it bit me, but in a skintight battlesuit, it's a touch difficult. "I, rather stupidly in hindsight, took on that thing alone and won to save the sister of a friend, although I got bitten into the bargain. My meddling old fart of a headmaster's Phoenix saved me, thankfully."

"At twelve," Sheva murmured. "That sounds like sheer lunacy."

"I'm not arguing with you Sheva. I wouldn't be surprised if the aforementioned meddlesome headmaster wanted to shape me into a weapon. He left me with abusive relatives deliberately after all, for my own protection from my enemies. Don't get me wrong, I think he had the best intentions. But you know what the road to hell is paved with."

"You said that earlier, about your mentor. Harry…I trust your skills, I'm just worried about your judgement," Chris said. "If you had been too concussed, the Uroboros creature might have killed you, or else you might have been trapped there in the furnace when it was activated. Sheva might have died with you."

"Fair enough," I said. "Sometimes…I'm not so sure I care about my own life. But I promise, I'll avoid endangering anyone else with my actions."

Now, you would think that I would have gotten angry at Chris for his remarks. To tell the truth, I was far more angry at myself, though I didn't show it. I had nearly gotten Sheva killed. Not only that, but as I said, Chris was probably having flashbacks to the castle Spencer was holed up in, when Jill tackled Wesker out of a window down into a ravine.

It was true, what I said. I did have a self-preservation instinct, just a stunted one. Dumbledore, after all, shaped me up to sacrifice myself to get rid of the Horcrux, even if he hoped that I would survive the experience. Chris was right to be worried about my judgement. The fact that Bill had died in front of my eyes thanks to Wesker didn't help. I wasn't sure I wanted to face Fleur afterwards.

Had they already notified the others about Bill's death? Had they received admittedly premature news of my own demise? Then again, the way I was going, it may not be so premature yet.

* * *

We made our way to an elevator, and after emerging into a garage, Chris went over to a car and began uploading the data. Jill went over to him, while Sheva stayed with me. "Harry…thank you anyway," she said.

I turned to her, and smiled, a little shakily. "Thanks. But…Chris is right. I risked your life as well as mine."

"I had faith in you," Sheva said.

I chuckled bitterly. "Too many people had faith in me. Too many of them died."

"You're not the only one who has lost loved ones," Sheva said quietly. "My parents died thanks to an accident in an Umbrella factory they ran. I later learned BOWs were released in that factory."

I nodded. "I'm sorry for your loss. I never knew my parents. Voldemort murdered them when I was only one. My survival when nobody else survived that damned spell made me famous. I never wanted that fame. Too many people looked up to me as a messiah…or down on me as being, supposedly, a spoilt attention whore."

"In short, you had all these different opinions about you," Chris said from where he was uploading the data. "And those who looked up to you died."

"Not all of them. But too many."

Chris nodded. "You feel their deaths."

"A good friend of mine told me so many times, I have a saving people thing. I take it personally when I can't."

Chris nodded again, and indicated Jill. "I took it very personally when I thought Jill had died. And Jill was only the latest."

"Like the Spencer Mansion," Jill said. "Only Becky, Barry, Brad, and the two of us got out alive. Well, unless you count Wesker."

"I don't," Chris said. "He's a dead man walking. Standing orders are that he is too dangerous to be taken alive."

I nodded, before saying, "Chris…I'm sorry I reminded you of what happened with Jill and Wesker at that castle." As he looked at me sharply, I said, "That's part of the reason you were stroppy with me, right?"

After a moment, Chris nodded in acknowledgement. "Anyway, I need to contact HQ." He activated his radio. "HQ, do you copy? Did you get the data?"

" _This is HQ. We copy. Excellent work out there. We're starting to analyse the data. Reynard has arrived with the civilians. What's the status of the town?_ "

"The abridged version? It's gone to hell. Virtually everyone left here are Las Plagas infectees. What's worse is that we had an encounter with an Uroboros BOW. It wiped out Alpha Team, and we barely managed to destroy it ourselves. We're lucky to still be breathing."

Sheva nodded. "Our transport's gone too. Requesting a mission update."

" _The mission stands._ " As the four of us looked at each other in shock, HQ said, " _Capturing Irving is still the top priority. So too is eliminating Wesker, and arresting the rogue sponsor. Irving is believed to have fled to the mines on the other side of the train station._ "

Jill frowned. "HQ, there's only the four of us. Alpha Team are no more. Is there any back-up?"

" _Delta Team have been dispatched and are on their way, Agent Valentine. In addition, a BOW expert has been dispatched. Basilisk, I believe you may be familiar with her._ "

"Her? I didn't know anyone in the BSAA. Not until I met Jill, anyway," I said, puzzled.

" _She's a relatively new recruit, but she's a rising star. This is her first field assignment, but given the circumstances, we felt someone with a magical background and knowledge of your methods may help. She volunteered once she heard of your being here in Kijuju. She told me to tell you 'Wit without measure is humanity's greatest treasure'_."

My eyes widened. Could it be…? "You know her?" Chris asked.

I pursed my lips. "If it's who I think it is…well, you think I'm crazy? You ain't seen nothing yet."

Chris frowned. "I think I know who you're talking about."

" _She'll be with Delta Team. You'd better get a move-on. We can't afford for Irving to get away. Proceed to the mines beyond the station. Over and out._ "

Sheva scowled. "This is lunacy."

"Ever get the feeling you're expendable?" Chris asked.

"All the time," I snarked back. "It's called being outnumbered by homicidal monsters."

* * *

We pushed on for a while. Between Las Plagas-mutated dogs, Majini driving a truck, and now Plagas creatures that could fly like the mutant offspring of facehuggers and bats, we had a bit of a hard time. It was alleviated when Kirk Mathison in a handy chopper came in and picked off the Majini in a seaside marketplace and port area, but shortly thereafter, we saw the chopper being attacked by the flying Plagas creatures. And soon, we got news we were dreading: the helicopter had been downed.

Our problems hadn't gone away either by a long shot. We got confronted with a huge fucking Majini with a chainsaw. And I was beginning to flag, my magical reserves beginning to run dry, along with the ammo reserves of my comrades.

We eventually made it to that crash site. The helicopter was ablaze. Worse, Kirk had been pulled from the wreckage, and whether alive or dead, was shoved onto a pyre of tyres.

Before we could do much more than gape in horror at the sight, a motorcycle, driven by a belligerent Majini, revved up. He lashed out with a chain. I shoved Sheva out of the way, only to end up going for a ride myself, the chain wrapped around my ankle.

Now, I'd like to say that I did some brilliant spellcasting and got out of it, but the truth is, it was only Sheva's sharpshooting that severed the chain before any real damage could be done. I got to my feet rather shakily (try being dragged along the ground at speed involuntarily, see how you like it), and watched as the Majini, frustrated at my escape, snarled, his face peeling back like the petal of a flower for emphasis.

As a rebuttal, I sent a wandless _Reducto_ spell at his head, turning it into pulp. He slumped down, as I used a wandless _Accio_ to get my wand, dropped when I went for a ride. But more motorbikes came flying from the surrounding areas, landing, Majini snarling at us belligerently. Chris and Jill had to dodge one lot, and Sheva and I another.

Suddenly, a gunshot, and one of the Majini's heads exploded. Most of the Majini were shot, but then, one got hit with something very familiar. A Body-Bind curse. The Majini looked distinctly unhappy at that, but then again, are they ever happy? I think not.

Then, with the distinctive _crack!_ of Apparation, an extraordinary figure appeared in front of me. Dressed in jeans and a shirt, with a mokeskin pouch at her belt. Blonde hair and wide, pale eyes looked at me. Then, she threw her arms around me, and laughed. "Oh, it is you! It IS you! Harry, you have no idea how much you made people worry back home!"

"Yeah. Well, I'm okay more or less now."

"No, not yet. But you may be," she said. She then sniffed. "Ooh, you have viruses in you. Nice bouquet." She then sniffed Jill. "Ooh, similar smell. Nice. Better than the smell of zombies or Las Plagas."

"Umm, who are you?" Jill asked.

"I'll introduce her," Chris said. "I only met her a few times, but she makes quite the impression. Sheva, Jill, this is Agent Luna Lovegood, a BOW expert. And, it seems, a friend of Harry's."

"You can say that again," I remarked. For the first time in what felt like a very long time, a friendly face. And Luna turned to me, and smiled, not that ditzy little smile, but a wonderful smile of relief.

I just had to hope that she hadn't just gotten herself killed by coming here…

 **CHAPTER 4 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Luna's in the house, and Harry's struggling with his demons.**

 **The pairing will still be Harry/Sheva. But Harry and Luna have had a bit of history. Since the break-up with Ginny, they had a 'friends with benefits' relationship for a time, until Harry joined Ragnuk. Details in the next chapter.**

 **Review-answering time!** **jonesy757** **: Harry'll use a gun or a knife if he needs to. And as funny as that is, Harry and Jill's link is not active all the time. They have to consciously activate it. That being said, I might write in a scene to that effect.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	47. Resident Evil: Basilisk Chapter 5

_**RESIDENT EVIL: BASILISK**_

 **CHAPTER 5:**

 **REUNIONS**

As we followed the imposing dark-skinned leader of Delta Team, into a nearby building, I looked at Luna, who was using a spell to levitate the Majini. "How long have you been working with the BSAA?"

"Not long. Rolf and I got an interest in magical viruses, and we became intrigued by the T-Virus and the G-Virus."

Rolf being Rolf Scamander, the grandson of the famous magizoologist Newt Scamander, he of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ fame. And, more importantly, Luna's husband. "Wait, wait, hold up…are you implying that the viruses Umbrella used were magical?" I asked.

"I'm not _implying_ ," Luna said. This brought Jill, Chris, and Sheva to a halt.

The leader of Delta Team then said, "We can talk about this inside." That stopped the conversation, for the time being, anyway…

* * *

Ah, Luna. Luna Lovegood. It was not long after my break-up with Ginny that I consoled myself with her. Luna, while she's rather scatterbrained, was very intelligent. And while Hermione was an excellent friend, I didn't want to get in the way between her and Ron, especially has Ron got upset with me. Luna, however, gave me a shoulder to lean on. One thing led to another, and, well, we had a friends with benefits thing going on for some time. But in the end, Luna could only treat the pain, not get rid of it, and we broke up, albeit amicably, shortly after I was accepted into Ragnuk.

We remained friends, even after she hooked up with Rolf Scamander. I have to admit, I hadn't seen much of her lately, in the past year or so. I guess this was why.

As we entered the building, Chris looked at the leader of Delta Team. "I'm glad to see you guys."

The leader of Delta Team nodded, as Luna laid out the restrained Majini on a nearby table. "I'm Captain Josh Stone of Delta Team. A pleasure to meet you, Chris Redfield. And the same to you, Jill Valentine. I am glad rumours of your death were exaggerated."

Sheva stepped forward. "Thanks, Josh. I owe you one."

Josh smiled, and Jill looked at them. "You know each other, then?"

Sheva nodded. "Josh trained me, taught me everything I know."

"Sheva became the little sister of the team," Josh said, before he became serious. "You must continue your search for Irving. According to the data you uploaded, we believe he moved to the mining area. HQ transmitted some data to here. Some of it, we found before. Others, we got with this lot." He handed Chris a USB stick. "Agent Lovegood, assist them in apprehending Irving."

"Gotcha," Luna said with a smile.

"Okay. We'll clean up around the town before we follow," Josh said. "Keep your radio handy."

"Thanks, Josh," Sheva said. "And good luck. You'll need it."

I nodded. "If you need to, run like fuck. Especially if an Uroboros creature is involved. If you get confronted by something that looks like a big ol' mass of worms, you need incendiary weapons to do any damage."

"I have incendiary grenades, but thanks," Josh said.

As Josh left, Chris plugged the stick into his PDA. He gave a rather grim grimace. "There's a picture of you in stasis," he said to Jill.

"Reynard saw a picture like this earlier," Jill mused. "Any other info?"

"Names for the various creatures we faced, most of them in Swahili," Chris muttered. "Data on BOWs, financial details…but nothing linking Tricell to this mess, as far as I can tell."

"There will be," Luna said, as she began examining the Majini, before casting a spell that looked like a diagnostic spell on it, setting some paper and a ballpoint for the spell to write down the results. She then turned to us. "Now, there's something I've learned, something you need to know too. You may not know this, but this is something I have researched for some time with my husband. The various viruses created by Umbrella, as well as the Las Plagas, are magical in nature."

Chris and Jill frowned, as did I. That made a ridiculous amount of sense. Sheva looked at Luna. "In what way?"

"There's something rather obvious, actually," Luna said. "Many strains of the T and G-Viruses can cause symptoms to develop within only a few hours. Sometimes days, depending on the strain, but often only a few hours. But to my knowledge, normal viruses take days usually to present symptoms. Even the common cold takes at least 16 hours to cause symptoms. The fastest mundane virus, as far as I know, is viral gastroenteritis, which usually takes a minimum of twelve hours."

Chris muttered, "Rebecca was talking about that just after that business at the Spencer Mansion. That's the thing about some strains of the T-Virus that puzzled her."

"Oh, I've worked with Becky," Luna said with a smile. "We're calling it the Chambers-Scamander-Lovegood Paradigm of Magical Viruses."

"Becky?" I asked.

"I told you about her," Jill said. "Rebecca Chambers. A wunderkind in medicine and virology. She works with the BSAA now, but she used to be a medic and mechanic with STARS Bravo Team."

"Anyway, the point is that the Tyrant, God, and Veronica viruses all have magical properties, as does Las Plagas. And what little we have learned of Progenitor suggests that it may be the source of that magic, in everything but Las Plagas, anyway. And what little we know from Spencer's records suggest that he found the original source for Progenitor in Africa. In fact, we learned it was not far from here," Luna said.

Chris frowned. "I knew Umbrella had something of a presence in Africa, but…"

"Ironically, it's only thanks to Tricell that they found Progenitor," Luna said. "The company that became Tricell was founded by Thomas Travis. A descendant of his, Henry, explored Africa, hoping to become as famous as Livingstone. However, according to rumour, Henry's brother, the head of the company at the time, deliberately poisoned Henry's reputation, making out that Henry had fictionalised much of what he wrote." I realised that Luna felt a lot of sympathy for Henry Travis, given that a lot of people never believed her about the weird animals she spoke of.

"Why would they do that?" Sheva asked.

"To maintain a monopoly on the resources they could exploit in Africa. Henry died considered to be a fraud."

Sheva scowled. "How disgusting. Both destroying the reputation of a man, and doing so to exploit resources that were never their own."

Luna nodded. "However, his account of his expedition still had a cult following, and the 72 volumes of this account had a prominent place in Spencer's library."

"Which lends some credence to Progenitor coming from here," Chris said.

"There're more indications amongst Spencer's papers, what little we could decode. Umbrella held a very tight grip on this area, until its collapse. Tricell took over." There was a merry little _ting!_ , like the sound of a bell, and Luna blinked. "Oh, excuse me, the spell's finished." She then took a look at the papers. "Huh. _Shit_. This seems to be a very different type of Las Plagas to that Leon encountered. There's leech genes in it, plus a few other things that accelerate its growth."

"They seemed to be infected by force-feeding them the parasite," I said. "Infection is swift, but I managed to use an _Accio_ to get one out of a man within seconds of infection."

"You must have been lucky, Harry," Luna said. "According to this, irreversible takeover happens between ten to twenty seconds. This is fascinating. A shame it has to be at the cost of a human life. Wesker must have wrackspurts up the wazoo. Which is a rather painful place to have them."

"Excuse me?" Jill asked, confused.

"Luna's like that. Back at school, she was often called 'Looney'," I said. "As far as I know, only Ginny did it in a friendly manner."

Luna nodded. "I'm still tracking down the Crumple-Horned Snorkack, Harry. This just pays better. And it's so fascinating. And so sad." She pointed her wand at the chest of the Majini. " _Vivisectus._ "

Suddenly, the chest of the Majini was torn open, and Luna looked down into the bloody cavity. Sheva turned away with a grimace, Chris and Jill stared in horror, and even the Majini looked astonished at the fact that his chest was torn open, and he was still alive. And I winced. "Luna, give us some bloody warning, will you?" I muttered.

"What the hell did you just do?" Jill demanded.

"It's a vivisection spell. I can perform what is basically a vivisection, like a dissection, only you're still alive. It prevents the subjects from feeling pain, though according to the spell I used earlier, Majinis' pain processes are dulled compared to humans, and thus helps keep them alive," Luna explained, as she peered into the chest cavity. I could see the Plaga parasite wriggling away within.

"It's still disgusting," Sheva remarked, looking like she wanted to vomit copiously.

"It looks like something Umbrella would use if they had the spell," Chris remarked, Jill nodding in agreement.

"You've been shooting at them all day. I'm sure their remains looked disgusting too. I'll send this one to the secure lab for Rolf to get started on," Luna remarked as she closed up the Majini, who seemed bemused by the experience, as well as annoyed. She then activated her radio. "Agent Lovegood to HQ. I am sending one Plaga infectee to the secure biohazard lab containment cell via Portkey. Please be on standby."

" _Acknowledged, Agent Lovegood. After you send the infectee here, get going. We need you to catch Irving._ "

* * *

Which we did. Thanks to some Apparation, we caught up on lost time, and a Lumos spell helped us get through the mines. Luna proved surprisingly adept at combat whenever we encountered Majini and the other Plagas creatures. Or maybe not so surprising, considering she was part of Dumbledore's Army, and had fought during the Battle of Hogwarts.

We finally came to a building outside the mines, where Irving was. We knew this, because, as we approached, we heard a lot of hurried rattling around, of someone trying desperately to search for something…or hide something. So we burst in, with Chris, Jill, and Sheva aiming their guns, and Luna and I aiming our wands at Ricardo Irving.

Now, I would think that arms dealing would be a business where, while amorality would be a boon, so would charisma. Charisma is a boon when you're a salesman anyway, and when dealing in weapons to desperate types, one would have to have decent charisma and a silver tongue. Sadly, when these were being handed out, Ricardo Irving played hooky. He was ugly inside and out, his eyes bulging and looking outwards, like a goldfish or a pug, he spoke with a New Jersey accent that made him sound like a bratty kid wanting to join the Mafia, and he was skittish and vicious. He reminded me of the bastard mutant offspring of Peter Pettigrew and Dolores Umbridge.

And now I'm imagining Peter Pettigrew and Dolores Umbridge having sex. **_WHY DO I KEEP DOING THIS TO MYSELF?!_**

"Freeze!" Chris yelled at Irving, who had snatched up a handgun hurriedly.

"Shit," Irving hissed, as he looked at the five of us. He was sneering, putting on a brave face, but he knew he was screwed.

"Ricardo Irving, I presume?" Sheva asked.

"Well, I sure as hell ain't Livingstone," Irving chuckled. Noticing the lack of laughter, he scowled. "Stupid BSAA can't take a joke. Do they take the sense of humour outta youse when you join up?"

"No, we just don't find bioterrorism funny," Sheva said.

Irving snorted. "I'm no terrorist. I'm a businessman, with standards."

"They're standards lower than the chances of you escaping, Irving," Chris said. "Drop the weapon."

"Or hows about you drop yours?"

" _EXPELLIARMUS!_ " Luna yelled by way of reply, sending a Disarming Spell at Irving, who was surprised to find the handgun flying from his hand and into Luna's. I used an _Incarcerous_ on him, and he fell to the ground with an indignant squawk, magical ropes confining him.

"You freaks!" he yelled at me, and Jill. "Wesker must have his brain rotting from all those viruses if youse managed to escape!"

"No, that's just his megalomania," Jill snarked. "Luna, can you use that Portkey thing to send him back to HQ?"

"Sure. I'll have to adjust it so that he ends up in an interrogation cell rather than a biohazard lab," Luna said, pulling out an amulet, and began casting a spell on it.

"You won't find it easy," Irving sneered. "You think you guys can stop Wesker and Excella? Youse must be stupider than you look! Then again, you've got a wizard and witch here. S'no wonder. IQs drop pretty quick around magic."

I looked at him, saw the contempt in his eyes, and made a guess. "You're a Squib, aren't you?"

"Perceptive, aren't ya?"

"It's not too hard a guess. You look like you came from a family that got too much into inbreeding," I remarked.

"You take that back, you bastard! Just 'cause you got magic, and you're the precious 'Boy Who Lived', you think you're better than me?"

"I don't think I'm better than you, Irving," I said, kneeling down next to him and meeting his eyes. "I _know_ I'm better than you. Because I'm trying to make the world a better place."

"That's what Wesker and Excella think too," Irving said with a sneering grin. "What's the difference between youse?"

"I'm not trying to wipe out the world through bioterrorism," I said, just as Luna finished, and placed the amulet on him.

" _Bon voyage, salaud_ ," Luna said in French, before Irving vanished with a pop. That was one part of the mission over, securing Irving. But now, the real challenge began, getting to Wesker and Excella's evil mastermind lair. And that was going to take some effort…

 **CHAPTER 5 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Because Irving is captured, two of the big boss battles don't happen, as he never released them: the one against the Popokarimu (the bat-caterpillar thing) and the Ndesu (the El Gigante of** ** _Resident Evil 5_** **). Although there'll be a timeskip to the marshlands sequences for the next chapter, obviously, there won't be a battle against a mutated Irving either. Seriously, doesn't he look like the product of an incestuous relationship in the game? I hope you liked the improved (even if only slightly) dialogue in the confrontation scene. Some dialogue from** ** _Resident Evil_** **is great, and other times…well, 'Jill Sandwich', anyone?**

 **I hope you like Luna's debut. She's a bit more serious than in the books, but she's done some growing up. There's still some of the old Luna in there. And while I am not a virology expert, the stuff I wrote in is true, and the stuff about the T-Virus and G-Virus being magical in nature was something I wrote in to explain the sometimes rapid infection time of the viruses. I will also be using the same explanation in** ** _Henry Ashford and the Goblet of Fire_** **, though I hinted at it in an earlier chapter in that work, again from Luna's lips.**

 **Oh, and how many of you are reaching for the brain bleach now that you have the mental image of Peter Pettigrew and Dolores Umbridge getting it on? :)**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	48. Resident Evil: Basilisk Chapter 6

_**RESIDENT EVIL: BASILISK**_

 **CHAPTER 6:**

 **A TALK IN THE MOONLIGHT**

I won't bore you with the details of what happened afterward. First, we had to make our way up a mountain road where the Majini were attacking us, including one persistent bugger who was using a mounted Gatling gun. Luna had a potion that restored my flagging magical reserves, much to my gratitude (she called it an Ether, after the medicine from the _Final Fantasy_ games). At the top of the mountain, we were picked up by Dave Johnson of Delta Team in a BSAA jeep. But as we made to rendezvous with Delta Team, well, a bunch of Majini on motorbikes decided to make their presence known. Thankfully, said jeep had no less than two miniguns, and two wizards as well. We had to shoot our way past a roadblock that the Majini made up too. And then we had to make a risky jump across a broken bridge. We made it, but a few Majini on motorbikes pursuing us weren't so lucky.

We made it to a nearby village where Delta Team was going to hook up with us. As it turned out, they'd encountered nothing too nasty. I guess if Irving got free, he might have unleashed a few BOWs to occupy us with. I remember Excella bragging about the Popokarimu, which looked like the massive bastard incestuous mutant offspring of a bat and a caterpillar, and the Ndesu, which she said was a ripoff of the Spanish 'El Gigante'. Jill later explained, via our mental connection, that El Gigante was the name Los Illuminados gave to a Las Plagas-enhanced mutant human created through experimentation. You know that troll in the move of _The Fellowship of the Ring?_ Yeah, like that. Poor Leon Kennedy encountered no less than four of the buggers, and survived. Hell, he _prevailed_. With at least one encounter being while he was shepherding the president's whiny daughter.

Captain Stone had received authorisation to investigate Tricell holdings in the area, which meant the oil refinery. For the time being, we were to look into how badly Wesker and Excella affected the local tribes. After that, we were to infiltrate Wesker's base. We were resting here for the night: it had been a tiring day, and we couldn't do much more than we already had. And Wesker, while he could accelerate his plans, could only do so much to hasten them. In fact, I was sure he'd want to see to Chris and Jill's deaths personally, and would want them to arrive before he enacted his plan. And if they died, well, then he'd do it anyway.

A side-effect from the viruses Jill and I were pumped full of was that we didn't need as much sleep. Hell, we could probably function without it for days on end with less side-effects, but the crash afterwards would be pretty big. So Jill and I opted to take the main watches during the night.

As I took over from Jill, I saw Sheva standing not far away. I found my eyes drawn to her rather attractive rear, clad in khaki shorts. _Mmm, callipygian_ , I thought to myself.

 _Eyes front, soldier_ , Jill said in an amused tone through our mental link. Clearly, I'd accidentally sent that to her through our connection. It normally takes some conscious effort to do so.

 _Hey, you're callipygian too_ , I sent back with a laugh. _And that battlesuit is_ _ **very**_ _flattering._

 _So is yours, Harry. Let's just say that if I wasn't with Chris, I'd be on you like a zombie on fresh meat_. I heard her flinch from her unfortunate metaphor.

 _Yeah, well, I ain't getting in the way of you and Chris,_ I sent back. _I could do without the pair of you kicking my callipygian arse_.

Laughter echoed up the line, laughter that we probably badly needed after today's events. "Couldn't sleep?" I asked Sheva out loud as I approached her.

"I could for a time," she said. "But…the nightmares. Chris is lucky, he's got Jill to help him through those. And I guess being a survivor of the Spencer Mansion and Rockfort Island is nothing to sneeze at. But…I've my own bad memories. We each have a universe of our own terrors to face(1). I heard that once in a TV show."

"…Is it about your parents?" I asked.

The dark-skinned woman nodded. "After they died, I was sent to live with my uncle. I ran away from home, and fell in with anti-government guerrillas. It was while I was with them that I learned about Umbrella releasing BOWs in the plant they worked in. But later, when I was fifteen, I learned from a government agent who I met that the very group I was working with were planning to buy a BOW from Umbrella, despite the fact that I thought they were opposed to Umbrella as well as the government of the time. I helped stop the deal, and I was given a new life in America, including an education. After that, I joined the BSAA."

"You sound British, not American," I pointed out.

"My mother was a British expat," Sheva said(2). "While we spoke Swahili more often at home, she taught me some English." She looked at me. "I'd ask what keeps you up at night, but given what you've said, I'd be surprised that you can sleep at all."

"I'm surprised Chris and Jill can sleep, given what they've seen. Jill showed me some of the stuff she faced, and it's pretty nasty shit. I've grown used to nightmares. Hell, there's even a creature that brings your worst memory to the forefront. Pray you never meet a Dementor, Sheva. Anyway, I still have nightmares. I've just grown used to them."

"You don't have anyone?" Sheva asked.

"No. I actually broke up with the nearest person I had for a girlfriend years ago," I admitted. "Luna knew her. Ginny accepted that, though it was hard as hell to do, especially when her mother and her brother, my best friend, got involved. After that, I had a 'friends with benefits' relationship with Luna. We broke off the 'with benefits' part years ago, before she married Rolf Scamander." A bitter chuckle wormed its way out of my mouth. "My mentor, Dumbledore, he once told me love was the most powerful thing in the world. But the truth is, I'm not sure I can feel it anymore, partly thanks to him. Thanks to him, people I loved died who didn't have to. That's part of the reason I joined Ragnuk: to fill the void in my life. I wanted to be free of the expectations of being the Boy Who Lived. But…it hasn't helped. All I can do at this moment is focus on stopping Wesker and Excella. They killed the people I was working with, and they intend to unleash a bioweapon on the world. What other reasons do I need?" I sighed. "What about you? I mean, do you have anyone?"

"Not really. Josh is like a big brother, but I haven't really got that many people. Haven't had much time to, I guess. Anyway, we've got a mission to finish. And like you, I'm in it not only to stop Uroboros from being unleashed, but also, well, to get revenge on Umbrella. I mean, I know it's not a professional attitude, but…one can't remain completely detached and objective. Or else you're just a machine, no better than some of the BOWs the BSAA have fought."

"Yeah, Jill showed me some of them through her memories. Like the Tyrants, or Nemesis. Or the Hunters. Scary shit. I mean, I've faced down a Basilisk and a dragon, but I don't think I want to have to deal with something like the Nemesis. And she told me of some of the shit other survivors of Raccoon went through. But I get what you're saying." After a while, I said, "You know, after this shit is over, let's sit down, have a drink in a pub somewhere, and trade tales of crappy pasts and BOWs."

"I know a really good one," Sheva said.

I nodded, before saying, "Try to get some rest, Sheva. We've got a big day tomorrow."

"I'll stay out here for a few more minutes," she said. And she did. We stood there, looking at the moon, until finally, she retired to the building we were using as accommodation for the night. And I stayed there, for the rest of the night. It wasn't uneventful. Twice during the night, a group of Majini would approach, and I'd send Cutting Curses their way. But it was relatively peaceful.

Of course, well, you know that cliché about the calm before the storm? Well, it's a cliché for a reason…

* * *

As it turned out, our suspicions about Wesker and Excella affecting the local tribes in the marshlands was right on. They had become Majini. Worse, they seemed to be enhanced Majini, more resistant to bullets, even spells. Occasionally, there'd be massively tall ones.

In one of the villages, we came across the diary of a young man. I scowled as Sheva read it out, as did the others. Tricell had tricked the village into receiving 'inoculations' against disease, which, in all likelihood, were actually injections of Las Plagas. The young man's mental state deteriorated as the diary went on.

After Sheva had finished, Jill looked at Chris. "Peter Smith's journal, remember that?" Jill asked.

Chris nodded solemnly. On my questioning look, he clarified, "Peter Smith was the animal keeper at the Spencer Mansion. He kept a diary that we read when we investigated that mess. He got infected by the T-Virus, and you could see his mind beginning to waste away. In one of the last entries, he said, ' _Fever gone but itchy. Hungry and eat doggy food. Itchy itchy Scott came. Ugly face so killed him. Tasty_ (3).' And then, for the last entry…"

Jill concluded, "It had ' _Itchy. Tasty_ '."

Sheva grimaced in disgust, a grimace shared by me. Luna, meanwhile, was nodding. "They have the diary in the BSAA library. I've read it. That was one of the slower-acting forms of the T-Virus he was infected with, as it took several days. Umbrella had vaccines, though. I'm surprised they didn't use them. Then again, considering the Spencer Mansion outbreak was caused by Dr Marcus…maybe he destroyed them."

"Umbrella's not exactly caring about its employees," Jill said with a scowl. "We can all attest to that…"

* * *

We had to make our way through an execution ground. Well, more like an execution lake, complete with homicidal crocodile, presumably mutated by Las Plagas. Thankfully, a spot of Apparation bypassed that little problem, much to the bemused frustration of the Majini.

Soon, after going through a tunnel, we came to a small passage between a couple of hills, something I'm not sure I could even call a valley. We were near the oil refinery, and a few tents with Tricell logos on them were present.

As we did so, we got the call from HQ. They'd finished interrogating Irving. Enough pressure on the little bastard had him squealing. Delta Team found the small cache of evidence he had hidden in the oil refinery, directed there by HQ. We had proof that Excella was collaborating with Irving.

Now, I forgot to mention that Excella wasn't actually the head of the entirety of Tricell, so I sort of made a mistake earlier. My mind's got a fuckton of viruses buzzing around it, so sue me. Rather, she was the head of the African branch. That being said, that meant she had a lot of pull in the company. She was such a politically-savvy woman, she might as well be the head of Tricell. She also had significant influence with the BSAA. But with the evidence we got now, we could move in for the kill, so to speak.

Already, she was trying to get the BSAA to order us to retreat, according to HQ. But HQ stuck to their guns. They didn't tell her she was going to be arrested: no need to make her accelerate her plans. Instead, they just said that the investigation was ongoing. Apparently she tried to make out that Jill and I couldn't be trusted…but wouldn't give a reason why, and only claimed that she had her sources when she was asked how she knew of us.

Even so, we all knew we were entering the endgame. Umbrella and its legacy had poisoned Kijuju for long enough. We each had a stake in this, a too-personal stake, but one that would ensure that we would fight to the bitter end.

Wesker had murdered my comrades and turned me into a guinea pig.

Wesker had betrayed STARS, and Jill and Chris' comrades, turning the former into a guinea pig.

Umbrella had killed Sheva's parents, and its remnants were killing her people.

And Luna? Well, Wesker and Excella had hurt me. And Luna is scary when something truly rouses her ire. I remember that one time Theodore Nott and some of his buddies harassed me and Luna after a date, tried to molest her. The last I heard, he was still having trouble re-learning his toilet training, and how to speak.

Josh and the others in Delta Team were going to work to secure the oil refinery completely, before following us. And now, the clock was ticking before Wesker's insane plans consumed the world…

 **CHAPTER 6 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **And there you have it. A bit of nice interaction between Sheva and Harry, some pathos, and some shades of things to come. There'll be a timeskip to the underground garden for the next chapter, which won't be written for a while.**

 **Review-answering time! I'm perversely pleased by people's reactions to my hypothetical pairing of Pettigrew and Umbridge. Buy your own brain bleach if you don't like it. :P**

 **Reishin Amara** **: Sadly, relationships should be more than about looks. Lucius Malfoy is an unrepentant bigot, and Bellatrix Lestrange is a fucking lunatic. I looked up that pairing in the pure Harry Potter fanfics. There seems to be (through the pairing search) 12 stories in English of that pairing. And Lupine Horror, unlike me, is eminently more sensible, only doing so many stories at once, albeit with longer chapters.**

 **1\. The Doctor tells Ace this in** ** _Doctor Who: Ghost Light_** **while trying to explain why he brought her to the very haunted house she hated, a century before she destroyed it. Ace retorts that she wants to face them on her own terms.**

 **2\. I think this helps explain away two things: why Sheva's skin is a lighter colour than many other natives of the area, and why she speaks English with a British accent, despite being educated in America. I'm strongly considering having her mother be someone who fled Voldemort's war in 1980.**

 **3\. Although I consider the remake canon, I actually preferred the original translation of this last barely coherent part of the keeper's diary from** ** _Resident Evil_** **. And the name wasn't pulled out of thin air: apparently the diary has 'Peter S' on it in the game.**


	49. Gorgon and Thanatos (Original) Chapter 1

**This story came about because I wanted to do one that focused on a Harry/Medusa ship from the Nasuverse. I did, admittedly, do a harem with Medusa in it for _Perils of Magical Investigative Journalism_ , but I wanted to do something different. While this seems a little like _Ex Umbra in Solem_ , this story doesn't have a Master of Death Harry, though he does have an interesting link to Death. This story will, if it does become a full story, have Harry as a big brother figure to Illya, and inject some much-needed critical thinking into the von Einzbern household.**

 **Incidentally, this story would never have come about without a challenge by Gabriel Herrol, probably the only one I have decided to take inspiration from (incidentally, that is NOT an invitation to send me challenges: _do so at your peril_ ). Although this story would bear little resemblance to the challenge, titled _Everything For My Family_ , it was inspired by it. It also inspired another story which I am posting with this Christmas Update. It basically answers the challenge, but instead of Harry Potter, it is Kuja from _Final Fantasy IX_. The story is _Kuja von Einzbern_ , and the first two chapters should be up by the time you read this.**

 **For anyone who wants to take up Gabriel Herrol's challenge, well, here's the link:**

 **s/12185872/1/Everything-for-my-family-challenge**

 **EDIT: (31/12/2016) _Gorgon and Thanatos_ will be posted later today, but in a radically different form, though some parts will be taken from this story. However, it begins with Harry already in Fuyuki, will have him adopt Sakura before she is sent to the Matous, and was considerably more enjoyable to write. Hopefully, it will be as enjoyable for you to read.**

* * *

 _ **GORGON AND THANATOS (ORIGINAL)  
**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **AVALON**

 _"What a desolate place this is," he murmured, as he walked around the Shapeless Isle, his purple-haired lover by his side._

 _His lover scoffed quietly. "You can thank Athena for that." Her voice was a musical hiss, even when they weren't using the serpent's tongue._

 _"I know. But there is little I can do. As it is, she's complaining to her father about my being here for one last time. But after that whole business with Sisyphus, Zeus gave me what he called compassionate leave. I hope Hades makes that smartarse suffer. Sisyphus used his own shackles on me, and they hurt." He closed his eyes. "This will be the last time we can see each other, until you die. And when you do, the part of me that loves you will die with you. I am sick of the gods and their games with the mortals. First the Primordials to which I belong, then the Titans, and now the Olympians. Of them all, the only one I respect is Hades, and not just because I work with him. He at least can keep his cock in his pants, unless his wife is involved. And Artemis. She's got a temper, but at least her attacks on others are mostly justified. And you three, of course. I used to respect Athena until she did those things to you and Arachne, and out of petty jealousy. She's spreading word that you and Poseidon had it off in her temple."_

 _His lover scowled. But then, something changed in her eyes, which began to glimmer with tears. Those beautiful eyes, now turned into something deadly. If it weren't for his divine nature, not to mention his position, he would have been petrified on meeting her gaze. "I…don't know for how much longer I can protect my sisters. Humans come here to slay us, their love for us turned to hatred. I feel like you are the only one who still loves us. My sisters…and you. Three people who love me in all the world. And my sisters love to tease me for my growth."_

 _"They shouldn't. Stheno may be the most mature in mind, but her body is that of a child still. It's rather disturbing. Whereas you, you are truly beautiful and desirable, inside and out. Athena has made you a monster out of jealousy. One day, she will send someone to slay you. When she does…the part of me that dies with you will take you to Elysium."_

 _His lover smiled, wiping away the tears. "You know how to say things to comfort me, but Hades' domain is not what awaits me, and you know it. Still, if you wish to take me to Elysium…" Her smile became a little lascivious. "Why not do it today? You've done it before."_

 _He laughed at her little euphemism. "As you wish. We have a day. I think I can certainly try taking you to Elysium as many times as I can today…"_

* * *

Emerald eyes flickered open. For an instant, the pupils seemed darker than the blackest void, the colour of oblivion. And then, the moment passed, so quickly that it would have been dismissed as illusion or delusion to any onlookers, had there been any. The young man with the messy mop of black hair framing handsome, if weary features yawned.

A year had passed since that fateful battle. Ever since he had held the three Hallows, Harry Potter had been getting dreams like that, apparently of Ancient Greece. Of arrogant gods, and a purple-haired beauty who deserved the title of goddess more than any of those on Mount Olympus. But the dreams were only half-remembered when he woke, her name never recalled.

The covered sleigh was slowing, and he was glad he had woken up. It wouldn't look good to be napping while he was escorting something very valuable for some very important clients. This was to be his last job for the Goblins as restitution for that fiasco involving the Cup of Helga Hufflepuff. They had him as their little errand boy. At least the jobs were high profile. Even the Goblins baulked at making the Boy Who Lived do menial work. And they at least acknowledged he was trying to destroy a Horcrux. Which was why he got off lightly.

It was just as well. It was only a year since Voldemort had been vanquished, and things were still pretty chaotic. Harry had knocked back Ginny, and that had caused some friction between him and the Weasleys, a friction that had Hermione going to some place called Clock Tower to further her studies. She still kept in contact with Harry, and it was through her that he first learned of the Magi, the 'cousins' of wizards and witches. Perhaps more progressive than wizards and witches in some regards, Magi were more prone to cruel experimentation with magic, and certainly with a different type of magic. And still conservative and obsessed with blood lineage, even if the latter was for a surprisingly good reason. Even if it still wasn't good enough. Hermione was no Magus, but apparently Luna had a contact in Clock Tower, an honorary uncle called Zelretch, who could find her a position. The last Harry heard, she was dating some guy called Waver Velvet.

The sleigh came to a halt. Harry got out, taking the box with him, an elongated thing with a number of security charms placed on it. He was glad he was wearing a thick coat, as he stepped out into a winter wonderland like something out of a fairytale. So too was the magnificent castle in front of him, whose courtyard he was currently in. It was almost worth travelling to the arse-end of a remote corner of Germany for.

He walked up to the doors, to find a pair of pale woman with red eyes looking at him, standing guard. "You are expected. Enter," one of them said.

He nodded, and opened the doors, to find himself in an entrance hall, opulently decorated with statues and paintings of all kinds. Standing at the head of a staircase was an ancient-looking bearded man in robes. Not like Dumbledore: no, this man was a chilling, paternal presence that reminded Harry more of Lucius Malfoy or Snape. Of the horrible scrutiny that found you wanting on some level. He had seen a photo of the man before he came here, so that he could identify the client, but they gave little of the presence of the man. It was like meeting Old Man Winter in the flesh, with the snow white hair and cold, dark eyes.

"Are you Jubstacheit von Einzbern, Elder of the von Einzbern family?" Harry asked.

"I am," the man said with a deep voice. He descended the stairs with a calm grace. "You are Harry Potter. The Goblins informed me that you were the one to deliver the item we requested. You are not what I expected, but fame does tend to distort expectations."

Harry relaxed slightly. The man was not in awe of his reputation, so that was something, he guessed. He put the package down gently, and said, "I need to check for things first. Your magical signature, whether you're a Metamorphagus or using any kind of polymorphic potion. That sort of thing. The Goblins insisted, as what I've brought here is apparently very valuable."

"Very well," Jubstacheit said resignedly, and Harry cast the appropriate charms with his wand. He nodded, satisfied, picked up the parcel, and handed it to Jubstacheit. "Do you even know what it is you were delivering?" the old man asked.

"All I knew was that it was valuable, had been found in Cornwall, and has some link to King Arthur," Harry said. "I have to open it myself, by the way. Security." He waved his wand, and the box sprang open.

He whistled when he saw what lay within, a wedge of metal, made of gold with blue patterns. He realised it was a massive scabbard or sheath of some kind. He had to wonder what sort of sword was sheathed in that, though given the link to King Arthur that it was supposed to have, he had a rough guess.

After a moment, Jubstacheit said, "My contact with Gringotts said that this was your last contract with them in restitution for the mess you caused last year. They also said that you are somewhat eager to get away from Britain for a while, given that your fame has soared since Voldemort's demise."

"Yes. Why do you ask? Do you have a job offer for me?" Harry asked, a bit worried about where this was going.

"Not I. However, as you have delivered something very valuable to us, I would ask that you stay here as our guest. Indeed, I am sure you would like to witness some true magic, not the petty parlour tricks of wizards and witches. It is why we wanted this. This is Avalon, the scabbard of Excalibur."

Harry's eyes widened. "Really? So…why do you need it?"

"You shall see. Are you aware at all of the Holy Grail Wars, Harry Potter?" Jubstacheit said, handing the box back to Harry.

"…No. I only recently learned of Magi. A good friend of mine got recruited by a guy called Zelretch to work under him at Clock Tower. Why?"

"I would pity your friend. Zelretch is a fiend without mercy, and it is not because he is a Dead Apostle Ancestor, what you would call a vampire. He is harmless as far as vampires go, but he is an unrepentant gadfly and prankster who drives associates and apprentices to insanity."

"Hermione's dealt with the Weasley Twins for years, never mind the adventures I dragged her into. She's ready for anything Zelretch could put her through."

* * *

Hermione stared at the Kaleidostick sitting on the desk in front of her, and said, firmly, " _No._ "

"Don't be like that, Miss Granger," Zelretch said in his deep voice. "It's not actually dangerous."

"I'm a witch already, I don't need to be a magical girl like out of that _Cardcaptors_ show," Hermione said with a scowl. "And if you try to sneak one onto my person, I will use a Translocation charm to relocate it somewhere very painful, embarrassing, and inconvenient on your person, and it will take a skilled colorectal surgeon to remove it. Am I understood?"

Zelretch merely smirked. "Is that the best threat the 'brightest witch of your age' can come up with?"

"Well, how about a carrot? I knew two of the biggest pranksters from our time at Hogwarts. I think George Weasley would be elated to meet someone who is as big a prankster as you are."

"Ah, incentives. They do work so much better than threats. Very well. Incidentally, you had better stay close to me while that whole business with your boyfriend blows over."

"I don't know what Waver was thinking, if he was thinking at all! Stealing something from Lord El-Melloi? Given what El-Melloi is like though, I don't know whether to strangle Waver or kiss him when he comes back. It's like the sort of thing Harry would have done…"

* * *

Harry sighed. "So, where are we going?" he asked as they went down the corridors of the castle.

"To the von Einzbern family chapel. We are expected."

"By whom?"

"By those who need Avalon," Jubstacheit said.

He would say no more, until they opened the doors to a surprisingly large chapel, like a church back home, where two people awaited, a man and a woman. The woman was an albino, with pale skin, snow-white hair, and crimson eyes. She seemed eerily and even inhumanly beautiful. The man appeared to be Japanese, dressed in a dark suit and long coat, with a messy mop of black hair and handsome features marred by stubble and a strange weariness. He had a strange, red tattoo on the back of his right hand.

"Harry Potter, this is Irisviel von Einzbern, and her husband, Kiritsugu Emiya," Jubstacheit said.

Harry shook the hands of the woman and the man. The woman seemed warmer than the man, who seemed to appraise him, before nodding. "Pleased to meet you, Harry," Irisviel said, her voice a musical lilting thing.

"Likewise," Kiritsugu said. He didn't seem as sincere as his wife, but he did seem to mean it. "I would have come to Britain to deal with Death Eaters myself, but I had work elsewhere. And Magi don't get along with wizards, normally, so I doubt they'd appreciate it anyway."

As if sensing Harry's question, Jubstacheit explained, "Kiritsugu Emiya is infamous in Magi circles as the Magus Killer, a mercenary who kills rogue Magi that the Magus Association deem to be a threat. He has been chosen as our proxy in the coming Holy Grail War."

"Yes, what is that, exactly?" Harry asked.

"We will explain later," Jubstacheit said, before he turned to Kiritsugu and Irisviel. "Nine years ago, Kiritsugu Emiya, you were received into this family for this very purpose. We have finally obtained the relic we were looking for. Mr Potter brought it here. Using this relic as a catalyst, you will be able to summon the most powerful Heroic Spirit that falls under the Saber class. This relic is the greatest aid our family can offer you. This time, there can be no other surviving Servants. Destroy them all, and fulfil the Third Magic, Heaven's Feel!"

"As you command," Kiritsugu and Irisviel replied simultaneously, and with that, Jubstacheit left, with Harry wondering what the hell was going on. Soon, though, he would learn…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Well, there you have it. Harry's link with Medusa/Rider will be explained much later in the story, when the events of** ** _Fate/Stay Night_** **happen. It was Irisviel, as we will learn, who suggested that Harry be brought in as Illya's bodyguard/big brother figure. Why? Well, without Kiritsugu, Irisviel wouldn't have been able to appreciate her life, short though it was, as much as she did. Kiritsugu, after researching Harry, agreed, and they helped convince Acht to ask for Harry to deliver Avalon to them.**

 **While some of these chapters will resemble** ** _Ex Umbra in Solem_** **to a degree, remember that this has different elements. Harry won't be heading to the Fourth Holy Grail War, nor will he be immortal…not all the time, anyway.**

 **The next chapter will have Arturia's summoning.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	50. Gorgon and Thanatos (Original) Chapter 2

_**GORGON AND THANATOS (ORIGINAL)**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **SUMMONING KING ARTHUR**

Harry frowned. He had just received an explanation for the Holy Grail War. How it was some tournament cum battle royale between Magi, who were fighting for the chance to make a wish on the Holy Grail. Not the drinking vessel of Jesus, but rather, a powerful magical artifact that acted as a gateway to Akasha, the Root of All Things. All taking place in the Japanese city of Fuyuki.

In order to power the Grail, familiars known as Servants were summoned. They were the spirits of long-dead heroes, known creatively as Heroic Spirits. Seven would be summoned, each under a certain class, like that in a video game. Sabers, known for their expertise with the sword and close-range combat, often considered the most powerful class. Lancers, masters of spears and polearms, able to fight from outside arm's reach. Archers, experts at ranged combat, whether it be with a bow, a gun, or any other means of attacking from afar. Riders, alacritous and known for mounts and vehicles. Berserkers, those who traded their sanity for raw strength and tenacity. Casters, magic users who were at their strongest on their home turf. And Assassins, stealth users who struck from the shadows. Once six of these Servants had been slain, the Grail would be primed and ready to be used for a wish.

So, it seemed that the von Einzberns wanted Avalon to act as a catalyst to summon King Arthur. And they thought that Arthur would be their trump card.

Harry had to admit, he had ambivalent feelings about Kiritsugu. The man's attitude towards the man he was going to summon was pretty harsh, talking about how Servants were tools, but there was something in the man's attitude that had Harry staying his tongue. There was a deep undercurrent of self-loathing within Kiritsugu. And to be fair, he could understand Kiritsugu's pragmatic attitude. If more people thought like that during his school years, there wouldn't be so many people dead.

He had to admit to liking Irisviel more, and not just because of her looks. She had a genuinely likeable personality. She reminded him a lot of Luna, albeit with less near-lunacy. There was the same strange mixture of childish wonder and sharp intelligence and warm-heartedness.

It was Irisviel who told him why he was here. "Harry…if I may call you that…"

"As long as it's not the Boy Who Lived or Mr Potter," Harry said. "I've heard too much of the first, and I was called the second too much by a teacher with a grudge."

Irisviel smiled, and Kiritsugu actually chuckled at that. "Then you may call me Iri. I must confess, it was I who had asked for your presence here. As the Goblins told us your delivery of Avalon was to be your last work for them, at least for compensating them for…troubles, we asked whether we could offer you work, of a sort."

"If it's to participate in this Grail War…" Harry began, but Iri shook her head vehemently.

"No, no, nothing of the sort!" Iri chuckled. "No, it's a somewhat more mundane form of employment. It took some persuading to have Kiritsugu agree. He finds it hard to trust others, especially those who are famous, or are heroes of one stripe or another. However, he did a background check on you, and he has agreed to this. It's all contingent on your agreement, of course. You have the option to refuse, naturally. If you do, we will send you back to Britain via Portkey. Gringotts have sent a small ring that can act as one in advance."

Harry, after a moment, nodded. "I'll hear you out, that's all I can promise you."

Kiritsugu gestured at Iri to explain, which she did. "I am not actually human, not by normal standards. I am a Homunculus, somewhat akin to a biological robot created by alchemy, a specialty of the von Einzbern family. I was created as a guardian of the Lesser Grail, the vessel which develops into the Holy Grail itself. Kiritsugu was hired partly to be the von Einzbern's representative in the Grail War, but partly as a guardian for myself. I owe Kiritsugu much, for if it weren't for him, my existence would have been a dull, joyless one. He taught me much about the outside world. We married, and we even have a child, a beautiful daughter by the name of Illyasviel."

"When we depart for Fuyuki, we will be leaving Illya here," Kiritsugu said. "While she will not want for company here, there are few children in this castle for her to socialise with, and in truth, few would wish to socialise with her. The von Einzberns are not the most loving of families."

"A harsh assessment, Kiritsugu, but not untrue," Iri said. "Which is why I decided that Illya would benefit from a companion, not of the family, but one who can be family. And no, I am not expecting you to marry her. Illya is but eight years old, biologically and mentally. Few with Homunculi heritage have a childhood. We are born into adulthood. I actually thought of something like a companion and tutor, like a big brother or an uncle. You can regale her with adventures from your life. While we only require you to do so while we are at Fuyuki, which should be a month at the very most, should you accept, we were hoping you would stay longer."

"So, I'm to be a nanny and tutor to your daughter?" Harry asked, not sure how he should feel about that. "Bodyguard too?"

"Only if it comes to that," Kiritsugu said. "In truth, while I sneer at the word 'impregnable', this castle is one of the safest places in the world, with wards, what we call Bounded Fields, at a level approaching that of Hogwarts. There is a small army of Homunculi on the grounds, too. Only something on the level of a thermobaric or nuclear bomb could destroy it. It's extremely unlikely that Illya will be allowed to leave this castle, as there are many rival Magus families who would vivisect her to obtain secrets of von Einzbern alchemy."

"The von Einzberns were also collaborators with Nicholas Flamel, and your preventing the theft of the Philosopher's Stone by Voldemort helped gain favour in our eyes," Iri said.

"Okay, I get the picture. Mostly be the big brother to your daughter. I get that. But I am curious. You probably know this, but even with what the Goblins took out in fines, I could live off my fortune for the rest of my natural, so you can't entice me with money. I won't say no to getting paid, I'm just curious about any other incentives."

"Acht…I mean, Jubstacheit, has considered a Homunculus spouse as payment, but I thought you would be offended," Iri said. "However, we can certainly help deflect many of the marriage contracts that will come your way. Our family has considerable favour with Gringotts, which is one of the reasons we were able to obtain Avalon in the first place. If there is a career you wish to take up, or further study you wish to undertake, we can use our connections to help where merit alone cannot. We also have a number of tomes of interest, including those about various magecraft abilities that wizards and witches can use."

Harry considered the offer. "…Okay. I'm interested in the whole getting those marriage contracts away from me. And don't get me wrong, I will do it. I just wanted to know exactly how you were going to entice me into it. And you were right, Jubstacheit would have offended me with the Homunculus. Don't get me wrong, you're very beautiful and kind, Iri, and I'm sure I would love to be with a woman like you. But getting a wife as part of a payment seems a bit medieval. I left Magical Britain to get away from that shit."

Iri smiled. "Thank you for your compliment, Harry. So, you will look after Illya?"

"Yes. I said that."

"I am grateful," Iri said. "You will see her around dinner. Then, after that, we will be summoning King Arthur in the chapel. I am sure you'd want to watch. It is a rare thing to witness the summoning of a Heroic Spirit, even within the Magus community…"

* * *

Dinner was an interesting affair. Harry got to meet the child who was to be his charge. Like Iri, Illya had white hair, red eyes, and a cheerful demeanour. She seemed curious to meet Harry, having apparently heard a little about him. He was reminded a little of Ginny, at least before the worse traits of Molly Weasley began to emerge, as well as the fangirlish tendencies making a comeback. Harry found her immensely likeable. She seemed rather small for her age, which Iri had told him was due to her unusual biology, a mixture of both human and Homunculus.

"Is it true you faced a dragon during the Tri-Wizard Tournament?" Illya asked. She seemed more curious than fangirly.

"Yes. A Hungarian Horntail. I had to summon my broom to try and lure it away from its nest." Harry sighed. "I dunno what that idiot Bagman was thinking when he thought sending even seventeen year old students against nesting dragons was a good idea. Then again, I don't think he can think. He got hit by Bludgers enough times, there's not enough brain to damage anymore."

Kiritsugu scoffed. "Quidditch makes most normal sports look sane. You're in mid-air, with enchanted cannonballs trying to hit you, and players use dirtier tricks than most games. I saw that for myself when I was in England at the time of the Quidditch World Cup in 1994."

"I was there too, actually. Are you talking about the Veela, or the Wronski Feint?"

"Both, though using the Veela against the referee was a dirtier trick. I left after the game via Portkey. I was meeting a wizarding contact of mine who had intelligence about a rogue Magus with a number of Sealing Designations. A shame I didn't stay. I would have incapacitated the rioters if I had."

 _Probably would have kneecapped them_ , Harry thought. Kiritsugu was a self-professed ruthless man, after all. Out loud, he said, "Actually, the dragon wasn't the most dangerous creature I've faced. When I was 12, I had to kill a Basilisk. Nearly died myself in the process. It was only thanks to Fawkes that I succeeded."

"Fawkes?" Illya asked.

"Professor Dumbledore's Phoenix," Harry explained. "If he hadn't brought me the Sorting Hat, or pecked out the Basilisk's eyes, or used his tears to heal me of the Basilisk's venom…I wouldn't be here. And I've come up against Dementors, too."

Iri gasped in horror, and Kirtsugu scowled. "What's a Dementor?" Illya asked.

"Be thankful you've never met one, Illya," Kiritsugu said quietly. "Hope that you never will. A Dementor is a foul creature, like a sort of solid wraith that feeds on happiness from living creatures, like a living embodiment of depression. Worse, it can consume the soul in what is known as the Dementor's Kiss. Magical Britain used to use them as guards and executioners at the prison known as Azkaban. No soul consumed by a Dementor can return to Akasha."

Illya shuddered at the thought. Harry did too. He hated the damned things with a passion.

"I don't think that is suitable dinner conversation," Iri said mildly. And Harry had to agree. So he changed the subject to Hogwarts in general, which Illya listened to raptly…

* * *

After dinner, and Illya was sent to bed, Harry accompanied Kiritsugu and Iri to the chapel again, where Avalon was placed on the altar, while Kiritsugu bustled about, making preparations. He began drawing a ritual circle on the floor with a silvery substance. Mercury? Harry didn't know. At least it wasn't blood. He doubted even Kiritsugu would use Unicorn blood.

"For the origin, silver and steel. For the cornerstone, gem and the Archduke of Contracts. For the ancestor, my great master Schweinorg," Kiritsugu murmured. "The alighted wind becomes a wall. Close the gates in the four directions. From the crown, come forth. Trace the three-forked road leading to the kingdom. Fill, fill, fill, fill, fill. Repeat fivefold, and when each is filled, destroy it(1)."

"Is the ceremony supposed to be so simple?" Iri asked, frowning.

"Doesn't look simple to me," Harry remarked as Kiritsugu finished the circle.

"It is by most ritual standards," Kiritsugu replied. "And in truth, the Grail is what does most of the work. Masters need only supply the mana during the ritual."

"Didn't you say Schweinorg as part of the ritual?" Harry asked. "Isn't that part of Zelretch's full name?"

"He was one of those involved in setting up the Grail War," Iri said. "The three families who founded the Grail War also contributed. We von Einzberns contributed the vessel for the Grail. The Tohsakas of Japan contributed the land they owned, the land where Fuyuki now stands. And the Makiris of Russia, now the Matous of Japan, contributed the means of summoning Servants, as well as the Command Seals."

"Command Seals?" Harry asked.

Kiritsugu indicated the tattoo on his hand. "A stigmata that denotes a chosen Master, either by the Grail, or by performing the summoning. Some summon a Servant, and are granted the Command Seals after the fact, while some are granted Command Seals long before they summon a Servant. The Command Seals allow me to issue an order to my Servant that they cannot countermand, unless they are particularly resistant. However, I can only use three. Should I use them up, then the Servant may turn on me if they wish. The contract between Servant and Master would be broken, regardless."

"Hermione had better not get word of this," Harry muttered. "She had a conniption when she first heard about House Elves. I'm not sure I like it."

Kiritsugu chuckled sardonically, before indicating for them to stand back. He then thrust his palm out at the circle, which began to glow, and began to speak. " _Heed my words. My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny. If you heed the Grail's call, and obey my will and reason, then answer my summoning! I hereby swear that I shall be all the good in the world, that I shall defeat all evil in the world! Seventh Heaven clad, and the great words of power, come forth from the circle of bindings, Guardian of the Scales!_ "

The circle dissolved in a flare of actinic light, and a blast of wind battered at Harry. Then, as he blinked the afterimage from his eyes, he found himself staring at the circle. Someone was indeed standing inside it. But if this was King Arthur…well, the legends got something very wrong.

True, the figure had a regal bearing, armour adorning their clothing. Stern, green eyes so much like Harry's own peered out from a face framed by blonde hair. But the figure was very feminine. Androgynous to a degree, yes, but if this was King Arthur, then King Arthur had been a woman, wearing an armoured dress. No, not even that. She could only have been in her late teens at the oldest, at least in appearance, though the set of her expression was far older. She then looked at Kiritsugu.

"I have answered your summons. I ask you, are you the one who summoned me?"

Kiritsugu did something very odd. Harry could understand the look of surprise on his face, but he couldn't understand the scowl that came across his features, before he strode away. "Kiritsugu!" Iri protested, but to no avail. Kiritsugu just stormed out.

"He was the one who summoned you, FYI," Harry said. "Sorry, but…are you actually King Arthur?"

"Aye, though your confusion is understandable," the young woman said, looking a bit put-out. "I was born Arturia Pendragon, but to history, I would doubtless be known as a King."

"Huh. King Arthur was a woman. Who knew…" Harry mused. "Anyway, I'm Harry Potter, this is Irisviel von Einzbern, and that was Kiritsugu Emiya. Unfortunately, he's your Master."

"I see. Well met, anyway," Arturia said. But she seemed a trifle uncertain, and Harry had to admit, he shared that uncertainty. He had to wonder why Kiritsugu reacted so badly…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, there you have it. Harry's met Illya and Arturia.**

 **1\. I used a mixture of the ritual from the manga, as well as Third Fang's** ** _From Fake Dreams_** **. The final incantation is from the English dub of** ** _Fate/Zero_** **.**


	51. Res Nullius Prologue

**My most popular Harry Potter crossover seems to be _Haemophilia_ , which was derived from the only three chapters published (as of publishing this chapter, anyway) of _It's in the Blood_ , by sakurademonalchemist, one of my favourite authors on this website. It is thanks to her generosity that I am adapting another of her stories, or at least the basic concept of it.**

 **Her story _Gorgon_ involved what was presumably an iteration of Illya from _Fate/Stay Night: Unlimited Blade Works_ tumbling back in time after being killed by Gilgamesh. She ends up in an eleven year old body in Diagon Alley at the same time as Harry Potter does, and Illya ends up going to Hogwarts with Harry, where they're both Sorted into Slytherin. Sadly, _Gorgon_ never made it past seven chapters. But the idea of Illya being shipped with Harry was an intriguing one, though it needed tinkering with for blatantly obvious reasons: to whit, getting rid of her childish appearance.**

 **With sakurademonalchemist's permission, I have written my own version of _Gorgon_ , where an UBW Illya is sent back in time in a body her actual age (18 or 19 instead of a kid's body, which bypasses the main problem with shipping Illya with, well, just about everyone and anyone) to try and stop the events of _Fate/Stay Night_ from happening, and ends up with a post-Hogwarts Harry. I originally had Illya have her memories intact, but the story got bogged down in too much exposition, and didn't get to the Harry/Illya quickly enough. I thought it might be more interesting to have Illya lose most of her memories thanks to Angra Mainyu being a dick, and have her regain them in time for she and Harry to get involved in the events of _Fate/Zero_. And Harry would be forced to confront the possibility that what he knew about his wife was wrong. Oh, and Illya will actually get to see her father in action as the Magus Killer.**

 ** _Res Nullius_ (which means 'nobody's property', and is meant to refer to Harry and Illya shaking off their manipulators) may have taken _Gorgon_ as a basis, but it is, hopefully, its own beast, and I hope you enjoy the sample chapters I post. I will also be posting the first four chapters of _Underground's Champion_ and the first NINE chapters (!) of _Gorgon and Thanatos_ at about the same time as this, so keep an eye out for them...**

 **EDIT (2/1/2017): _Res Nullius_ , due to some consideration, may not see the light of day, at least as a Harry Potter crossover, as I think Harry is superfluous to the story. I'm strongly considering adapting it into a pure _Fate/Zero_ Peggy Sue story with the same premise, pairing an adult Illya with either Waver or Kariya, or even Kirei (yes, I am considering that, believe it or not). I will be posting the existing chapters already written, for the interest of those who want to see what I've written so far: three chapters including the prologue.**

* * *

 _ **RES NULLIUS**_

 **PROLOGUE:**

 **TIME WARP**

 _She hadn't expected to wake after the blonde-haired Servant with the blood-coloured eyes literally tore her heart from her chest. She had expected oblivion. Instead, she woke within the Grail, on a dark beach._

 _She only remembered her time in there but dimly, but her mother was there, with the truth. Her mother, the last vestige of her mother's soul that wasn't corrupted by Angra Mainyu, the Avenger Servant her own damn family had summoned to cheat during the Third Holy Grail War. She held her, comforted her, told her what had really happened, how the von Einzberns deliberately kept her father away from her, and then shaped his daughter into a killing machine to murder a boy she was told her father had abandoned her for._

 _She had cried, and cried, while her mother soothed her. Then, her mother outlined an audacious, insane plan. The core of the Grail still worked. With the right boost, it could fulfil its purpose without unleashing Angra Mainyu on all creation. And with that boost, she would have a second chance, even a new body that wasn't stuck so young._

 _When the arrogant Gilgamesh, Archer of the previous Grail War, was sucked into the Grail, they knew the time had come. The sheer raw power of that Servant would work well. Plus, the irony was appealing, to use her own murderer to give herself a second chance._

 _Her mother was going to send her back, to where she was needed. She was going to find the best protector for her, as well as someone who could be her friend, give her the happiness she had been yearning for all her life. She hoped so. She fervently hoped so._

 _As the landscape around them turned from darkest night to brightest day, the daughter looked at her mother. "Goodbye, Mummy. I'll see you as soon as I can."_

 _As everything dissolved into white light, her mother said, "Good luck, my daughter…"_

 _But even as she left, she felt something reach into her. Angra Mainyu, unable to stop her, was trying to tear away as much as it could. She felt her memory being shredded to ribbons, not actually gone, but tattered and left in useless ribbons, trailing in her wake as she hurtled back. To the beginning. And beyond…_

* * *

It wasn't exactly the worst day of Harry Potter's life, though it was tentatively making it into the Top 10. It was certainly in the Top 3 of worst days that didn't happen on Halloween (automatically excluding the night of his parents' deaths, as well as many of his Hogwarts worst days). However you sliced it, Harry was in a foul mood.

Vernon Dursley had died. Predictably, it was of a heart attack. Harry felt it was good riddance to bad rubbish, but went to the funeral anyway. Unfortunately, his aunt had verbally attacked him, calling him a freak (ironically, it was Dudley, of all people, who tried to calm his mother down). And then, the fucking wizarding paparazzi had to show up.

Not content with intruding on Harry's life once more, during a time that was meant to be private (though Harry was secretly hoping for enough alone time to piss all over Vernon's grave), they began asking questions as to which eligible witch he would be marrying. He told them to piss off. And then, one of them claimed that Ginny Weasley had announced her betrothal, which was news to him, as he had only just started going out with her on a few tentative dates. He had reacted badly to that, saying he hadn't consented, and if Ginny had stated that, then it was over.

Sadly, she had, and she and Molly wouldn't take no for an answer. Ron seemed to just stay out of it: with Hermione dating Neville (of all people!), he had decided to stay out of the dating game, and he wasn't surprised that Harry wanted to too. Harry had managed to declare the betrothal null and void, despite Ginny and Molly's protests, and had decided to shut himself away in 12 Grimmauld Place. There, he had availed himself of his godfather's rather large collection of spirits and liquors, and was trying to drink himself into a stupor. As it was, he vomited up too much to get drunk beyond 'mildly plastered', and he resigned himself to less of a buzz than before. To try and cheer himself up, he decided to raid Sirius' pornography collection, hidden in the Black family library, and thankfully not removed by Molly Weasley (more by accident than design, he guessed).

So when a naked albino girl about his age seemed to fall out of the middle of the air in the library, he took a moment to look at the glass still in his hand (the rather raunchy book in the other), wondering whether he was hallucinating. After a moment, he decided that he hadn't drunk enough to hallucinate anything, let alone albino girls about his age somehow Apparating into this house.

"Kreacher?" he asked, tentatively.

The ornery, ancient House Elf appeared. "Yes, Master?" he asked. He had gotten better disposed towards Harry since destroying the Locket that had gotten Regulus Black killed.

"We appear to have an unexpected guest. Could you please bring her to one of the bedrooms…and find some clothes in her size?"

Kreacher nodded, before he sniffed the girl. "Half-breed," he hissed.

"Kreacher, what have I told you?" Harry said warningly.

"Master, she is a half-breed, not even a witch. She is half-Magus, half-Homunculus."

Harry blinked. Magus? He sort of vaguely knew what a Homunculus was, but a Magus? "Just do what I told you, please, Kreacher."

* * *

Consciousness returned slowly, gradually. She thought she heard English, rather muzzily. But she slept on, dreaming. Of a boy with red hair and golden eyes. Of a dark-haired girl with a red dress. Of a blonde girl with green eyes and a regal demeanour, wearing a blue, armoured dress. Of a tall, tanned man with white hair, wearing a red coat over black armour. Of her two maids, almost identical in appearance, but not in demeanour. Of a massive, musclebound giant with skin that made him look like he was a statue, hewn from dark stone. Of her mother, those features so much like her own, and yet an adult body. And of her father, dark-haired and weary, with a sadness in his eyes.

Eventually, she woke, slowly and reluctantly. Her first realisation was that she was in bed, and utterly naked. A quick spell showed that nothing untoward had been done to her. But her body seemed strange now. So did her mind. So full of holes.

As she managed to get out of the bed, she found herself facing a body-length mirror, and she stared in shock. Okay, she should have realised the moment her limbs seemed longer than they had been, or that her chest was much heavier than she was used to…and yet, she was still surprised. She stared at the body of a stranger…

No, not a stranger. It was her. She had managed to reach her true age, somehow. She was eighteen, but stuck in the body of a pre-teen. She didn't remember much, but she could remember that much. Now, she actually looked eighteen, and a very good eighteen at that. She had proper breasts now, for crying out loud! And those legs! Long, graceful legs! A small chuckle wormed its way from her lips. A last gift from her mother, she thought. An actual body that wasn't a prison.

She twirled in front of the mirror, giggling quietly to herself. She could still feel her Magic Circuits, too. She was still as powerful as she was before, if not more so. The rush of power was intoxicating.

She brought herself into calm with difficulty. She was still naked in an unknown situation. Pursing her lips, she studied the room, reaching out with senses honed by her abilities as both a Magus and…something else. She couldn't remember what that was for the life of her. The magic ambience already told her one thing: she wasn't in a Magus household. She was in a wizarding one.

That could be good or bad. Wizards and witches were the old-fashioned 'cousins' of Magi. They had a Magical Core rather than Magic Circuits, which meant they were far less at risk of incurring the wrath of Gaia, and they were less ruthless, but on the other hand, many were even more contemptuous towards non-magicals than Magi, due to Blood Purity issues that were a corrupted version of Magus doctrine (that of longer-established Magi lines having a better connection to magic). Not to mention that they were backwards and conservative, even compared to Magi, their magic was less versatile and required foci more often than Magecraft did, and they actually believed in prophecy. She didn't know all the differences, and she could care less.

The décor was pretty dark, and while she couldn't be certain, she was guessing she was in England. There was a portrait (with the occupant currently missing, thankfully) of someone called 'Cassiopeia Black', and the Black family was one of the more notorious in Magical Britain.

Still, no spells keeping her in the room, and there was clothing folded up and placed on a nearby chair. A knee-length skirt, a blouse, and undergarments. She opted to get dressed once she had finished her morning ablutions, which she did, savouring a nice, long bath.

Getting dressed, she opened the door, and found a faint smell of cooking wafting into her nose. She snuck downstairs, and carefully padded her way through the rather dark and dreary house, trying to find its origin. It was hunger and curiosity both that led her to the kitchen.

As she opened the door, she soon saw her host, and stared. Of all the people to be cooking breakfast for her, it had to be the Boy Who Lived. About her age, with that infamous scar fading. Scrawny, but handsome, with messy black hair framing his face, emerald eyes flashing behind glasses as he cooked.

With that, she cleared her throat to get his attention.

* * *

Harry suppressed his surprise when he heard her clear her throat, instead, saying, "Breakfast is almost ready. I had to persuade Kreacher to let me do it. You want some?"

The girl, after a moment, smiled. "Yes, I would, actually. Thank you," she said, in a voice that actually had more than a touch of a German accent.

Harry nodded, and began serving it up, as it was finished. As he did so, he took the time to properly scrutinise his guest. Given his inebriated state last night, he hadn't managed to do so before (plus, he still had to take a bloody hangover potion). As it was, he wished he had been sober last night.

The girl was surprisingly tall, about as tall as he was (and he had been rather short for his age, thanks in part to the Dursleys). Her skin was so pale as to be white, and her hair was like snow and ice spun into hair. Her features were inhumanly beautiful, and he had to wonder briefly whether she was part-Veela. Her eyes had a slight epicanthic fold, suggesting Asian heritage, though her irises, strangely enough, were blood red. Her figure was attractive too.

She took the plate gratefully, and began to eat with a surprising dignity and grace. They didn't speak over breakfast, instead committing merely to eating. After she had finished, she said, with a smile, "Thank you. It is rather plebeian food, but well-cooked."

"Plebeian?" Harry asked, annoyed. "Are you a Pureblood?"

She blinked. "I…I'm not a wizard. I'm a Magus. But I cannot remember where I grew up. I'm sorry. And that's not saying your food is bad. Far from it," the girl said. She pouted in a manner that made her almost endearingly childish. "Damnation, this is hard. I don't know how I got here, I'm missing a lot of my memories, and I'm tripping over myself. I didn't intend to offend you, Harry Potter. Yes, I know who you are. The scar's pretty distinctive."

Harry frowned. She was claiming to have amnesia? Something about her made him a little wary, understandably. But after a moment, he asked, "Well, do you remember your name?"

The girl blinked again, and frowned. Eventually, she said, "Yes, I do." A smile lit up her face. "I remember my name!" Her face fell. "Well, my first name. And I can't remember my parents, though. But I am Illyasviel. Call me Illya. Pleased to meet you, Harry Potter…"

 **PROLOGUE ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, here you have it. Illya's ended up with a post-Hogwarts Harry. And in case you're wondering, Irisviel (as part of the Grail that isn't corrupted by Angra Mainyu) has sent her back with a body that is her actual age, and back shortly before the events of** ** _Fate/Zero_** **. For the purpose of this fanfic, the events of** ** _Fate/Zero_** **take place in early 2001 (rather than the generally accepted 1994), with this chapter taking place in mid-1999. That means plenty of time for some Harry/Illya before the Grail War kicks off.**

 **I thought of Illya as looking like a version of her mother in her late teens. I mentioned epicanthic folds due to her father being the Japanese Kiritsugu Emiya, and Iri does mention in the opening episode of** ** _Fate/Zero_** **that Illya has his eyes.**

 **Now, originally, I intended to have Illya come back in time with her memories intact, but I thought that'd create too many problems, having her know too much about the future. So I decided to have Angra Mainyu be a dick and take a good chunk of her memories. She knows her name, her magecraft, and about the Grail War, but she's forgotten her family, along with the events of** ** _Fate/Stay Night_** **. She'll recover them in time for the events of** ** _Fate/Zero_** **.**

 **There's another reason for that. Because she retained her memories, the chapters I initially wrote were filled with exposition, and it would have taken forever to get to the Harry/Illya romance. I'm going to skip forward to shortly before the events of** ** _Fate/Zero_** **, with all the lead-up to the romance taking place offscreen, and Harry and Illya already being spouses and lovers. And with her regaining her memories…**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	52. Res Nullius Chapter 1

**Thanks for the overwhelming support for _Res Nullius_ , but I have some bad news...and some good news. The bad news is, I realised that this was a pretty weak crossover with Harry Potter, and could work well without the Potterverse elements. The good news is that it can work very well as a pure _Fate/Zero_ story, as a Peggy Sue/time travel fanfic. Instead of Harry, I'm considering one of three pairings for an adult Illya: Waver, Kariya, and Kirei Kotomine (yes, I am seriously considering that: I think the Kirei of _Fate/Zero_ can be steered away from becoming his _Fate/Stay Night_ incarnation). It's still in its early stages. As I have written three chapters of _Res Nullius_ already, I thought I would post what I have written here already for your reading pleasure, as well as give a taste of what might be in store when I get around to writing the actual fic. Hope you enjoy it, and hope you guys aren't too disappointed.**

* * *

 _ **RES NULLIUS**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **A LIFE REGAINED**

 _Over a year and a half later_ …

 _She's so cute when asleep_ , Harry thought as he woke up to find his wife curled up next to him, as naked as he was. He gently ran his hand through her hair, causing her to giggle softly. "Harry…" she murmured, half-asleep. She opened her eyes, and propped herself up on her elbows, looking at him with those crimson eyes of hers, smiling that gorgeous smile. "Good morning."

"Morning," Harry said. "Sleep well?"

"I always sleep well with you. Especially when we have a good time the night before," Illya said, her smile becoming a somewhat lascivious smirk. "Kreacher's probably glad we put up those extra privacy charms."

"I must be doing a good job if you're screaming that loudly in pleasure, Illya," Harry said, matching her smirk.

She leaned forward, and kissed him, a brief peck on the lips. "That you do, Harry." She began stroking his member until it was standing to attention, before shuffling over and straddling him, allowing him to enter her, Harry casting a contraceptive charm as she did so. "Let's work up an appetite for breakfast, shall we?" she asked, a wry smile on her face.

* * *

Over a year and a half had passed since Illya fell almost literally into his life. A mild distrust of the young woman soon gave way to friendship, and sometime after that, it developed into love. It was an uneasy love: even if it wasn't suspicious, which it was, Harry knew that he could be loving a young woman who may already have a husband, or at least a boyfriend. And yet, despite the unease, it had developed into something strong and undeniable, even as they both tried to piece together her past, with limited success.

Illyasviel, they had surmised, had probably been born of a human and a Homunculus, in all likelihood, the von Einzbern family, a reclusive but powerful Magus family who resided in a remote corner of the Black Forest of southwestern Germany. They specialised in alchemy and the creation of Homunculi, the latter of which often had the distinctive albino-like look.

Illya, upon learning this, had asked Harry that they not attempt to make contact. Harry agreed, as she seemed worried about what they'd do to her, which could be vivisection at the very least. He had learned that Magi were notoriously amoral as a whole, and at best.

Partly to protect her from the von Einzberns, and partly to prevent any betrothals to Harry from getting anywhere (especially from a desperate Ginny and her mother), Harry and Illya married a few months ago. Harry and Illya would have been happy to remain lovers, but the pragmatism of the protections offered by marriage helped solidify their decision.

Harry, through his wife, learned about magecraft. He could only learn the theory, as well as what few spells that could be learned by both Magi and wizards. She seemed to retain her ability to use magecraft, and knew a little of its history.

Of course, he learned as much through his new position. In order to distance Harry from the scandal his continual rejection of the Weasley betrothals (amongst others) were causing, Kingsley had suggested Harry for a post that many in the Ministry saw as a joke. The Head of the Magus Liaison Department, effectively meaning he had an office in Clock Tower.

That was actually a surprisingly interesting job, and not just interesting in the curse sense of the word, though it certainly was that. Clock Tower was rife with intrigue and politics that was the equal of the Ministry of Magic. Thankfully, Harry had managed to get on the right side of a few of the key members of Clock Tower, most important of whom was Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg, or Zelretch for short. A tall, powerfully built man apparently in his seventies, he was actually a vampire, or rather, a Dead Apostle Ancestor, a specific type of vampire. While not evil, Zelretch was an inveterate prankster who had, on a couple of occasions, had corresponded with the Marauders after they left Hogwarts. He was also one of George Weasley's biggest customers. And he was Luna Lovegood's honorary grandfather, of all people, which showed how small a world it really was.

Through him, he met the woman who was Zelretch's honorary granddaughter, and Luna's honorary sister, Arcueid Brunested, aka Arc, the White Princess of the True Ancestors, a somewhat different breed of vampire. While not actually affiliated with the Magus Association that ran Clock Tower, being able to claim a friendship with her and Zelretch kept a lot of people off his back. The fact that Arc was a good-natured person helped matters.

Not that he didn't make enemies, though. His cheerily iconoclastic attitude made him a few. There was one rather nasty instructor who was basically a more competent and intelligent Malfoy that got Harry's ire up. He had the improbable name (though not as improbable as some wizards he knew) of Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald, an elitist ponce who unfortunately could back up his haughtiness with actual ability. That didn't stop Harry from taking him down a few pegs, as well as encouraging one of his students, Waver Velvet, in writing a thesis about how hard work can allow a Magus to become more powerful than one from an older family with a longer connection to magic. Okay, the Magi actually had an intelligent reason to discriminate against those with a more recent Magus lineage, as the longer a family existed, the more powerful the connection to magic (of the magecraft variety, anyway), but that didn't stop Harry from taking every opportunity he could to annoy them. He hated that elitist attitude.

While Harry worked at Clock Tower, Illya opted to work at Diagon Alley, at Flourish and Blott's. Not that either of them needed the money, what with his family money to fall back on, but neither liked to be idle.

Of those he knew, the only ones who had actually met Illya were Hermione, Neville, Ron and Luna. He didn't really trust anyone else. Ron had the unenviable task of relaying to his mother and sister that Harry was married now.

All in all, it was a good life. Not quite quiet, but certainly a good life. Unfortunately, today was the day it would change…

* * *

After their little morning workout, Harry and Illya showered, dressed in silk dressing gowns, and went down to have breakfast. It was Saturday, and Harry intended to take his wife out for a day trip around London. She enjoyed sightseeing and going to the various attractions of London. Yet Harry noticed a strange melancholy, even an anticipation. As if Illya knew, on some level, that something was soon to happen.

Harry began reading through the morning mail, brought by Owl Post. Zelretch sometimes used the wizarding method of messaging, simply because the conceit of using owls as messenger birds amused him. There was a lengthy letter from him now.

As he read down the letter, Harry scoffed quietly. "What is it?" Illya asked.

"Zelretch wrote to me. Apparently something called the Holy Grail War is starting up in Japan before long. He thinks he can get me a spot, as the Magus Association is only sending in that wanker Kayneth. He thinks it'd be interesting to have a wizard as a Master, whatever that means. He says I can see him tomorrow to learn further details." A strangled noise from his wife brought his attention away from the letter rather hurriedly. He realised that Illya was quaking and quivering. "Illya? What's wrong?"

"I…Grail…remem…ber…" Her eyes rolled up in the back of her head, and she toppled out of her chair to the floor, convulsing and writhing, as if in the grip of a massive seizure. She began screaming in pain, her voice rapidly hoarsening. Harry was by her side in a flash, holding her, hoping to stop her from hurting herself.

As if by his touch, she calmed, subsiding, her eyes, instead of rolled up, were now staring straight ahead, fixed into the distance, twitching rapidly. What was she seeing?

* * *

Illya _remembered_.

She nearly drowned in a deluge of memory, memory that had been nearly torn away by Angra Mainyu. It wasn't until she felt Harry's touch, the feel of his magic, that she was able to stay afloat in the flood. Part of her managed to calm down. The rest of her still felt all those memories flooding back.

She could have been left a vegetable, but Illyasviel von Einzbern was stronger than that. She had controlled Heracles as a Berserker! She was the daughter of the Magus Killer! And the wife of the Boy Who Lived!

It was hard keeping her head above water, to use a metaphor, but she managed. It was an effort, but she managed. After what seemed like an eternity, the flow of memories slowed, and then ceased. It was still a chaotic swirl, but she now knew she had everything. What's more, she knew that something had to be done about it.

She came back to herself to find her husband staring at her in fear and concern. His words finally came to her, as if through a mist. "…ya?! Illya! Are you all right?"

"Harry," she said quietly, reaching out a hand to touch his face.

"What's the matter, Illya?" he asked. Oh, sweet Harry. He could tell that something was bothering her.

The next three words to come from her lips were amongst the hardest she had ever spoken, surpassed only when she first told Harry " _I love you_ ". But speak them, she had to. So much was at stake.

And so, she spoke them.

"I remember _everything_."

* * *

An hour later, Harry emerged from the Black family Pensieve, staring at his wife in horror. She had offered proof of what she knew via copies of her memories, and thankfully, the Black family had their own Pensieve. Illyasviel's story was a tangled one, as much as his own life had been. Illya was born to Irisviel von Einzbern, a Homunculus created by the von Einzbern family, and Kiritsugu Emiya, a Magus of some infamy as a mercenary and assassin, known as the Magus Killer. Thanks to experiments on her while she was in the womb, as well as when she was a child, her physical development was slow, and ground to a halt before she reached puberty. Until now, she had been stuck in a child's body, despite having lived to the age of 18.

Anyway, her father had been retained as the chosen Master representing the von Einzbern family in the Fourth Holy Grail War, a magical tournament that made the Tri-Wizard Tournament look like the Ashes(1) by comparison. Seven Magi would summon the spirits of heroes from myth and history (dubbed 'Servants') to do battle, each in a specific class, in the Japanese city of Fuyuki. Her father had been the Master of Saber in that Grail War, but had never come back from Fuyuki, having destroyed the Grail and betrayed the von Einzberns.

Illya's 'grandfather', Jubstacheit, along with a dream vision of Illya's mother, had claimed Kiritsugu had abandoned Illya, in favour of adopting a Japanese boy called Shirou. In truth, Illya would later learn from the soul of her true mother within the Grail that Kiritsugu had tried to retrieve Illya, only to be rebuffed by the von Einzberns. And the von Einzberns not only expected Illya to be a Master in the next Grail War, but also become the next Lesser Grail, a vessel designed to become the next Greater Grail, the Holy Grail proper, when charged with the lifeforce of at least six Servants.

Oh, and they wanted her to murder her stepbrother, as her father had by then died from a curse.

Illya became the Master of Berserker, who was actually Heracles. Heading to Fuyuki, she had a number of battles, including with the very Saber Servant her father summoned, and who was now protecting her stepbrother. But during the Grail War, she was attacked by a mysterious Servant with golden hair and red eyes, whom she later identified as Gilgamesh. He tore her heart from her after defeating Berserker, and used it for his own version of the Grail.

It was there that Illya met her mother for the first time in years. Irisviel was still part of the Grail, and part of her had remained untouched by the entity corrupting it, Angra Mainyu, supposedly the devil-figure from ancient Zoroastrianism. And through Irisviel, they had enough power to send Illya's soul, along with a new body (closer to her actual age) back in time.

Harry knew now, given that he had seen her memories, that his wife was a dangerous young woman, more so than he had before. But he had also seen her heartbreak and her hurt. And she was shaped into a sacrificial weapon by an ancient old man, like he was. Only, Dumbledore had at least good intentions, despite what the road to hell being paved with. At least Dumbledore wanted Voldemort dead, and had tried to find ways for Harry to survive the experience. Jubstacheit, however, just wanted the Holy Grail, despite him sacrificing the happiness of a young girl who only wanted to see her parents again.

Illya, after a moment, said, "I'm sorry. I mean, if you hate me, I…"

"I can't hate you, Illya. I'm a little angry at you for wanting to murder Shirou based on Acht's say-so, but…you know what you did was wrong now. Anyway, you showed me your memories the moment you regained them." Harry gave a sardonic grin. "And Dumbledore had a thing for giving second chances."

Illya laughed sadly, tears running down her face, before throwing her arms around Harry and embracing him. "Harry…thank you," she said quietly. "You're the first, you know. The first boy I ever loved. Had it been in my original time, I would not have even given a wizard a second glance. But you've been so good to me."

"It's kind of hard to get a boyfriend when you're stuck in an underage body," Harry remarked. "I'm glad you look your age now."

"Of course you'd be," Illya said with a cheeky grin. But then, her face became serious. "Harry…I need to ask you…I need your help. You know what lurks within the Grail. Angra Mainyu, the Avenger Servant my family tried to summon. I need to find a way to destroy the Grail, or else dismantle it so that it isn't in danger of contaminating Akasha, not to mention destroying humanity. I don't think contacting my family is a good idea: they'd either kill me for being an impostor, or vivisect me. I might be able to persuade my parents once we're in Fuyuki. Zelretch may believe me, but…"

"You want me to go with you, fight in this Grail War, against a group of ruthless Magi, including your own father?" Harry asked. After a moment, he muttered, "Too much to ask for a quiet life, isn't it? Okay, I'm in. Two's better than one, and if we're summoning Servants, then four's better than two, right?"

Illya smiled. "I'm glad you see it that way, Harry. Now, I think we should change the destination of our daytrip. I think we should take a little trip to Cornwall…"

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Illya remembers, Harry knows the truth, and it seems that Illya has a plan. For those of you familiar with** ** _Fate/Zero_** **, Illya's plan is somewhat obvious. For those of you who are not…well, wait and see.**

 **1\. For the Americans, the Ashes is a test cricket series between England and Australia.**


	53. Res Nullius Chapter 2

**While I am heartened by the number of people who enjoyed _Res Nullius_ so far, I am also annoyed at the people insisting that this be continued as a Harry Potter crossover. I have already written two chapters of the new version, a pure _Fate/Zero_ fic. Once at least three or four chapters have been written, I will consider posting it. The new version will have Illya shipped with Waver. I have used a lot of copied and suitably edited text from what I have written of _Res Nullius_ , and the basic plot remains the same. It may not be published for a while, though.**

 **In the meantime, feel free to enjoy this, the last whole chapter written of _Res Nullius_ to date. It's in this chapter, actually, that I realised how overly complicated I had made things, and how much more simpler it'd be as a pure _Fate/Zero_ fic rather than a crossover with Harry Potter, a crossover where Harry is, unfortunately, relatively superfluous to the story.**

* * *

 _ **RES NULLIUS**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **PREPARATIONS**

Hours later, Harry was staring at the wedge of metal. It was beautiful, a work of art, gold and blue, with inscriptions in an eldritch tongue on it. It even seemed to glow, ever so faintly, with its own inner light.

They had taken a Portkey to Cornwall, taking the time to disguise themselves, just in case, before heading to an archaeological dig. Harry was rather annoyed that they had to steal the item in question and Obliviate every archaeologist present, carefully modifying the memories to avoid rousing the suspicion of wizarding or Magi authorities, but Illya needed to get this item before her family could. While it meant putting her father at a disadvantage, the Magus Killer was a devious opponent, devious enough to be able to overcome any deficiencies.

Harry ran a hand over the wedge of metal. It was a scabbard, a scabbard of a very famous sword. Avalon, the scabbard of the legendary sword Excalibur, the signature weapon of King Arthur.

Except…King Arthur was actually a woman. Illya had met her a couple of times before her father left for the Fourth Holy Grail War, and had encountered her a number of times during the Fifth Holy Grail War, when her stepbrother Shirou had summoned her. Arthur's real name was Arturia Pendragon. And in Illya's memories, she appeared to be a young woman about their age, or perhaps a little younger, in her late teens, oddly petite, but no slouch when it came to combat.

They had used the living room of 12 Grimmauld Place as their planning room, and Illya was currently writing on a whiteboard she had purchased. "Acht made me study what was known about the Masters of the Fourth Holy Grail War. He had some files left over from my daddy's computer. And my mother showed me her memories of the Grail War, as well as the Servants who died. We don't know much about the Master of Caster of this Grail War, only that he was a serial killer later identified as Ryuunosuke Uryu. He was the last of the Masters to summon a Servant, and Acht believed he did so purely by accident. His Servant was Gilles de Rais, and I think one of us should summon a Caster to prevent him from summoning someone, or else make sure my father does so."

"So, we've got your father, the infamous Magus Killer," Harry said. "If we're stealing Arturia from him, who will he summon?"

"I don't know. Anyway, the other two families had their own representatives. Tokiomi Tohsaka was the one who summoned Gilgamesh, the Archer who killed me in the future," Illya said. "The Matou representative was Kariya, but I don't know much about him, save that he was the white sheep of the family. Something drove him to go back, and his Berserker was Lancelot of the Lake. And as you know, Kayneth Archibald intends to fight. My family later received information that he initially had a relic as a catalyst that had once belonged to Alexander the Great, but that was stolen by Waver Velvet. Kayneth used a relic from Diarmuid of the Love Spot as a Lancer, while Waver summoned Alexander the Great or Iskandar as a Rider. My mother showed me her memories of his most devastating weapon: a Reality Marble."

Harry frowned. Zelretch had told him about such things, a sort of mental world that could be summoned to temporarily override reality. "What was the Reality Marble?"

"His army from ancient times. He used them to attack Assassin, who was, if what my mother told me was correct, the Servant of Kirei Kotomine. Kirei became fixated on my father. What's more, he's the son of the Overseer in this Grail War, and they were in cahoots with the Tohsakas. It wasn't against the rules for the son of the Overseer to be a Master."

"Can we prevent your father from participating in the Grail War?" Harry asked.

"No. Some Masters gain Command Seals years in advance, like he did, or Kirei Kotomine. No, we can target either Kayneth or Waver."

"Waver's a good kid, but he'd be out of his depth in the Grail War," Harry said. "We can steal his catalyst for ourselves, or else make sure it finds its way to your father. As much as I don't want to face him…"

Illya nodded. "He may be our best ally, if we can persuade him. But we can't do it while he's with the von Einzberns. But I don't know when Kayneth has his relic delivered, and when Waver steals it. My father told my mother that Kayneth had a very dangerous Mystic Code called the Volumen Hydragyrum, a sort of programmable, animated blob of mercury."

"Well, either Waver or Kayneth will be our targets," Harry said. "What do you reckon?"

Illya pursed her lips. After a moment, she said, "My father wouldn't get along well with Iskandar. He wouldn't get along with many Servants, but Diarmuid would be able to be professional about it. If we can get Waver on board, Iskandar can be a big asset to our cause. Let's see if we can find a way to get Kayneth out of the Grail War."

"Okay, though I don't like the idea of Waver getting caught up in this," Harry said.

"I'd rather he go through it. Apparently, it was a learning experience for him," Illya said. "He became one of Clock Tower's most respected lecturers and researchers. And I don't want to change the future _that_ much."

"Fair enough, though I'm going to keep an eye on him." Harry sighed. "So, are we going to summon Arturia?"

"Yes. I've decided. I will summon Arturia, while I have you summon a Caster. I can modify the incantation to guarantee the class. It's still a few months out from the Grail Wars, but the Grail should be able to allow you to summon it."

"I would have thought you would have preferred to summon Heracles as Berserker again," Harry remarked.

Illya smiled sadly. "As much as I'd love to, the Berserker class is not without its own problems. I want to take Caster out of the running to prevent Ryuunosuke from summoning one. Hopefully, all the Servants will be summoned before Ryuunosuke can summon one. Then we'll deal with him…"

* * *

12 Grimmauld Place had its own ritual room, and it was here that Illya began drawing out the circle, having sent Kreacher to get some animal blood to draw it out with. "For the origin, silver and steel. For the cornerstone, gem and the Archduke of Contracts. For the ancestor, my great master Schweinorg," she said quietly. "The alighted wind becomes a wall. Close the gates in the four directions. From the crown, come forth. Trace the three-forked road leading to the kingdom. Fill, fill, fill, fill, fill. Repeat fivefold, and when each is filled, destroy it(1)."

"Is that it? You told me a lot about magecraft rituals before you regained all of your memories, and this seems pretty simple," Harry said.

"The reason is that the Grail itself does most of the work in summoning the Heroic Spirit from the Throne of Heroes and providing a body," Illya said. "I just have to supply the mana. That's why I'm summoning Arturia: I have an excess of Magic Circuits doubling as Command Seals, which means I can summon her at her strongest, and supply enough energy for her to use her trump cards more often…if we have to. Avalon will act as the catalyst." She looked at Harry, and smiled. "Now, sit back and watch this."

As Harry backed away slightly, Illya thrust out a hand. As the circle began to glow, along with the Magic Circuits in her body, she called out, " _Heed my words. My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny. If you heed the Grail's call, and obey my will and reason, then answer my summoning! I hereby swear that I shall be all the good in the world, that I shall defeat all evil in the world! Seventh Heaven clad, and the great words of power, come forth from the circle of bindings, Guardian of the Scales!_ "

The circle dissolved into a flare of actinic light, and a blast of air assaulted them. As Harry blinked away the afterimage, he saw who was standing in the centre of the circle, proudly and regally. And he smiled, as did Illya.

The woman was seemingly dressed in a blue dress with a wide skirt, and armour plated areas. Clutched in one hand was the vague outline of a sword that wavered and shimmered, almost entirely invisible. Her face was beautiful, if a little androgynous, her blonde hair done up in a severe bun, her green eyes so much like his own as they gazed at them both. She seemed to be a little younger than them, perhaps in her late teens at most. "Servant Saber has answered your summons. I ask of you, are you my Master?"

"Saber, King Arthur, Arturia Pendragon, I am your Master for this Grail War," Illya said, smiling. "I am Illyasviel Potter. This is my husband, and soon to be fellow Master, Harry Potter."

Arturia nodded. "Well met. The pact is sealed."

As Arturia stepped off the circle, Illya scurried over and took Avalon off the altar they had it on, acting as a catalyst. Arturia noticed it. "Avalon?" she asked.

"Yes," Illya said. "We'll talk later. We have much to talk about, Arturia, things which you may find hard to believe. But we need your help."

The blonde-haired knight nodded, and went over to Illya's side. Harry moved forward, took a deep breath, and then thrust out his own hand, pumping magic into the circle, which once more began to glow. " _Heed my words. My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny. If you heed the Grail's call, and obey my will and reason, then answer my summoning! I hereby swear that I shall be all the good in the world, that I shall defeat all evil in the world!_ " Then, he began using the modified chant.

Apparently, one could modify the chant slightly to guarantee a certain class, assuming it hadn't already been summoned. The Berserker chant addition, for example, went along the lines of _Then let thine eyes be clouded with the fog of turmoil and chaos, thou who are trapped in a cage of madness, and I, the summoner, who holds thy chains!_ But they wanted a Caster, so Harry remembered what Illya coached him to speak.

" _Let thy ways be the hidden and mystic ways of sorcery supreme, of magic and mystery! Magus unto Magus, I call thee, peer, to answer me! Seventh Heaven clad, and the great words of power, come forth from the circle of bindings, Guardian of the Scales!_ "

Once again, the circle dissolved into a flare of light, and Harry felt a brief stab of pain in his hand. He felt like he had just run a marathon. As the afterimage faded, he found himself facing a robed, hooded figure he recognised from Illya's memory.

It was the figure of a woman, dressed in rather elegant robes, a hood concealing her head and most of her face, save for her nose and lips, and part of her blue hair. The figure could have been sinister, and yet…despite Harry knowing what she did from Illya's memories, mostly due to this one ending up in the Grail…he nonetheless actually felt sorry for her.

"Harry, isn't this…?" Illya said, before the Servant interrupted her.

"Servant Caster has answered your summons," the robed woman said. "I ask of you, are you my Master?"

Harry held up his hand, showing the Command Seals. "Of course."

"Then the pact is sealed," Caster said with a smile. "Are we in alliance with these two?"

"Yes, that's my wife Illya, and her Servant, Saber. Or rather, well, since we're allies, let's introduce you two. Arturia Pendragon, meet Princess Medea of Colchis. Princess Medea of Colchis, this is Arturia Pendragon."

"…How did you know my name?" Medea asked, a little bemused, understandably.

"It's a long story. Very long story," Illya said. "And complicated. You probably wouldn't believe me unless I showed you my memories via Pensieve. Just know that there is something very wrong with the Holy Grail."

Arturia shared a look with Medea, before she returned her gaze to Illya and Harry. "I think you both have some substantial explaining to do ere we continue any further."

"Would a drink help?" Harry asked. "I can raid the Firewhiskey cabinet."

"I would prefer a strong wine of a good vintage, if you don't mind," Medea said. "I just hope the impending headache is from the explanation, and not from a retroactive hangover."

 _You and me both_ , Harry thought to himself. _You and me both_ …

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, we've got Arturia and Medea as the Servants of Illya and Harry. Yeah, I know, I've brought in Medea as a Caster again (having done so in** ** _Perils of Magical Investigative Journalism_** **, and** ** _Light the Blue Touch Paper and Run Like Hell_** **), but I love to see her as a protagonist rather than an antagonist. It was either going to be her as a Caster for Harry, or EMIYA as a Caster for Illya (which EMIYA can be summoned as).**

 **Anyway, we'll sort out the mess this has made of the lineup of Masters in the Grail War later. Kiritsugu will be getting Diarmuid as Lancer, while Kayneth and Ryuunosuke will not be participating.**

 **Incidentally, I made up the Caster-specific summoning chant inspired by the Berserker-specific summoning chant, which Kariya uses in** ** _Fate/Zero_** **. It got me thinking, there may be specific chants for each class for those who don't already have Command Seals, and who aren't trying pot luck, so I made this one up for Casters. I hope I got it right.**

 **1\. I used this version of the preparation incantation in** ** _Gorgon and Thanatos_** **. I used a mixture of the ritual from the manga, as well as Third Fang's** ** _From Fake Dreams_** **. The final incantation is from the English dub of** ** _Fate/Zero_** **.**


	54. Ofiuco Amduat and the Goblet of Fire CH1

**Fans of _Res Nullius_ should not despair. I have been reconsidering making it into a pure _Fate/Zero_ fanfic, but I haven't decided whether to keep it as a Harry Potter crossover, or do the pure fanfic. However, I have decided to put working on it on the backburner while I work on my non-fanfics.**

 **That being said, I had this weird notion for the past little while. I've been reading _Homestuck_ , and there's a lack of substantial crossovers with Harry Potter, save for a few. Then again, lengthy _Homestuck_ crossovers are thin on the ground anyway. And I had this really weird notion: what if Harry became a Troll, somehow?**

 **Now, _Homestuck_ 's story is incredibly convoluted, and on doing some research, I decided to do away with the explanation the webcomic has for why Troll society is so violent and such. Here, it's not due to outside influence, or at least not that from characters in the webcomic. Sburb and Sgrub don't exist. Instead, I'm transplanting Alternia and the twelve main Trolls into the Potterverse, albeit far from Earth.**

 **This is more of a pilot episode. I won't be making this into a full fic any time soon for a number of reasons. Firstly, I want to actually finish _Homestuck_ first to get a better handle on the Trolls' characters (at the moment, I've only just begun the _Hivebent_ arc). Secondly, as stated above, I want to take a break from fanfic writing, and this was more to get an idea onto paper and out of the way so I can write my normal stories with less hindrance (in theory, anyway). I hope you enjoy it anyway.**

* * *

 _ **OFIUCO AMDUAT AND THE GOBLET OF FIRE**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **THE TROLL WHO LIVED**

 _They called him mad. But madness was a relative thing on Alternia, and he was sure that if they saw these bipeds known as humans, they'd call them mad too. Such was the lament of_ _those who dealt with_ _dull and boring minds._

 _Doctor Apollo Amduat(_ _1)_ _was having a wonderful time on Earth, though it was starting to pall a little. He had vivisected a few humans (after anaesthetising them, of course: the sound of screaming aliens were rarely pleasant, save for a few planets), taken samples, had managed to steal select samples of the primitive media on this world (they didn't even have a proper computer network, or at least one as widespread as back home), and even now was looking for a test subject. Not for vivisection, of course. Rather, for making into an heir._

 _Apollo Amduat was considered insane by Troll standards because he enjoyed innovation and thinking outside the square. In fact, only some damned good inventing managed to prevent him from being culled when he couldn't produce the material for the filial pails. The human way of reproducing, while not necessarily better (it certainly seemed more messy), at least looked fun. None of that cold formality._

 _He was also considered insane because he stayed behind on Alternia, one of the few adult Trolls to do so. Oh, he knew the Condesce kept a fairly close eye on him, at least when he was home. She kept an eye on any adult Trolls who were on Alternia, of which there were few, the rest being part of her armies. Paranoid about revolt._

 _In any case, Apollo was merely continuing the family tradition of mad science. The problem was, his father, Yttral(_ _2)_ _, had removed that very ability during an experiment involving a particle accelerator, a malfunctioning Sylladex, and Apollo's Lusus. Apollo was therefore desiring to find a potential heir. Not just because he wanted an heir, but also because he was worried a mite about the possible stagnancy of the almost literal gene pool of the Trolls, and thought introducing the genes from an alien species might help shake things up. Certainly, the human genome, with the right modifications, could be compatible._

 _Of course, finding the right heir, test subject, etc was difficult. Human children got rather samey after a while, in much the same way their adults did. Oh, they had more variety than trolls in terms of hair and skin colour, but once you got past that, they got a little boring. All of them had red blood, for crying out loud! He didn't know whether a lack of haemospectrum was good or bad._

 _Apollo was currently looking at the feeds from a microprobe he had set up on the roof of Little Whinging Primary School. It was a school in a place called England. The local language spoken here was, at least in terms of the spoken language, virtually identical to that spoken back home. The alphabet was another matter, but what could you do?_

 _The reason why he was looking at said microprobe was that he had just obtained interesting readings from it. A discharge of exotic energy had just happened nearby, and he was now watching a recording, trying to pinpoint it. He didn't need to look far._

 _A group of rather obnoxious children (okay, not quite as obnoxious as many Trolls, but obnoxious by human standards, anyway) had been chasing another. But the chased boy had suddenly and somehow ended up on the roof, teleporting! Even now, he was standing there, practically next to the microprobe. He had the dark hair of a troll, messy, barely covering a jagged scar on his forehead. His green eyes were interesting, though. They seemed unusually vivid for a human._

 _What was more, his audio feed was picking up the boy's mutterings. "How…how did I do that? Uncle Vernon's not going to like this…he hates freaky stuff. He'll lock me in the cupboard."_

 _Which was interesting indeed. While Troll upbringing was somewhat fractious and dangerous, it wasn't so for many human children, especially in certain countries. And in general, human children were nurtured rather more than Troll children. So to hear of such a Troll-like upbringing…_

 _Apollo smiled. It seemed that he found an heir. Well, it was more of a whim than anything else, but a kid with a Troll-like upbringing in a relatively soft country, and with a mysterious ability to teleport?_

 _Which was why he used the Appearifier to zap him on board his ship. When the boy appeared, stumbling out of the very air, Apollo greeted him with a grin. "Greetings, human grubling! You have been selected at not-at-all random to be my heir!"_

 _The child gaped at him, with understandable fear. But mixed in with that fear was, well, interest. Apollo would be unusual, a tall, grey-skinned biped with sharp teeth, a mop of messy black hair, eyes with orange sclera, and similarly-coloured horns. He was dressed in his most flamboyant sciencecoat today, which one of his colleagues once generously called a 'rainbow having dysentery(_ _3)_ _'._

 _"I am Doctor Apollo Amduat! Now, what is your name, human grubling?"_

 _After a moment, the boy finally spoke his name in an understandably timorous voice. "Harry Potter…"_

* * *

There were many ways that Petunia Dursley would want to wake up, and many ways she didn't want to. One of the ways she didn't want to wake up was tied to a chair with a bruised face and a headache rivalling just about every hangover she had ever had. And yet, here she was, doing so, her husband and her son also tied to chairs, and also stirring.

They were in a darkened room, and she could see little outside of a circle of light. Strange smells permeated the room, and Petunia knew she could hear the sound of raspy breathing. Hell, she even thought she heard a malicious snicker.

Vernon, of course, once he regained consciousness, took umbrage at his situation. "What the bloody hell is going on here?!" he bellowed hoarsely.

Once more, the malicious snicker rang out. Then, what sounded like the voice of a teenaged girl rasped out. "Hell's a pretty appropriate term, humans."

"Terezi, cut the fucking drama and let's get this fucking thing over and done with. I don't want to look at these freaks any longer than I have to, or else I'm going to be fucking puking things up from meals I haven't even had yet! Seriously, Ofiuco, did you live in a fucking zoo?" This was a teenaged boy's one, as was the next one.

The voice that came was strangely familiar, if aged, but Petunia couldn't quite recognise it. "Well, there was a walrus, a giraffe, and a baby whale, so I guess so, Karkat. I had to be zookeeper and servant to these animals."

"Fuck. I thought we had it fucking bad with our Lusii. I take back every fucking thing I said about your whining. I'm finding it a fucking trial just looking at them. My eyes need scrubbing with the best slime we have."

"Pipe down, Karkat," came another girl's voice, a more deep, confident one. "Anyway, they're repulsive, true, but this ought to be fun. Thanks for letting me attend, Terezi."

"Thank Ofiuco for that," the first voice, presumably Terezi, said. "I may have forgiven you for that blinding me thing, Vriska, but normally I wouldn't send you an invite to such things."

"Hey, I love FLARP, Terezi. And this is going to be pretty F FLARP. I wouldn't miss this for the world. Plus, my Lusus will get off my back for a while. Or drop dead of cholesterol poisoning. Either way is fine."

Vernon had decided to bellow. "Shut up! I demand to see my lawyer! I have rights!"

Again, the snicker from Terezi. "Silly human. You mean a defence lawyer, right? Well, we don't have these things on Alternia. Troll law is very different to your quaint Earth customs. Tavros, lights!"

Suddenly, the lights snapped on, and the Dursleys found themselves…in a courtroom. Well, an almost childish mockup of a courtroom, decorated in scrawls of chalk. The judge was a cartoonish scrawl, labelled His Honourable Tyranny, and had horns. A gallows was scrawled next to it.

There was also a small stand, doubling as what was either a jury box…or a public gallery. And it was populated by a number of children, all about thirteen or so. Another was standing near a box labelled, rather messily, L3G1SL4C3R4TOR T3R3Z1 PYROP3. And they were all clearly not human.

Oh, they looked vaguely human, enough that, if you ignored the twilight-coloured horns and the grey skin and the orange sclera of their eyes, they could pass for human, all with messy black hair. Oh, and the teeth, the very sharp teeth they were showing.

Vernon's complexion purple in anger and a little fear. "Freaks! You freakish brats let us go this instant!"

"Newsflash, you corpulent fuck," a boy with a shirt with the astrological sign for Cancer sneered. His voice was that of the one addressed as Karkat. "Here on Alternia, you're the fucking freaks. And you're a long way from home, fuckface. Like, we're talking fucking light sweeps, or years, whatever the fuck you have on your dirtball of a planet. You even know what that means? It means you're in the shit. And we Trolls are shitting on you."

The one standing near the box, a girl who was wearing red-tinted sunglasses and a shirt with the sign for Libra, spoke. "Karkat, as much as I like to hear you swear up the place, need I remind you that this is a courtblock, and any further outbursts will have you summarily ejected?" This was the voice Petunia had associated with Terezi. She then turned her gaze to Vernon, and said, "And any further outbursts from you will have you summarily executed."

"You can't do anything to me," Vernon sneered. "I have rights."

Terezi sighed. "Ofiuco?"

"On it." This came from a boy, wearing glasses, and with a very familiar face. As he emerged from behind another of these things, Petunia felt her breath hitch in her throat. There was the scar, jagged, zig-zagging out from his messy fringe, faded now. His eyes had green irises, so much like that bitch of a sister of hers. His shirt bore what looked like a U with a wavy line on it(4).

"You! BOY! YOU'VE…" Suddenly, Vernon couldn't speak.

"Silence in the courtroom," Harry Potter, or at least the Troll he had become said, having waved a hand. "I mean, courtblock. I forget, Terezi, do you have bailiffs to maintain order?"

Terezi cocked her head. "Hmm…Linewhippers keep order in the court, so I guess you're the Linewhipper here, Ofiuco."

"Ofiuco?" Petunia asked, confused. "But his name is Harry."

Harry glared at her. "I wouldn't know it, given how many times you and your family called me 'freak' or 'monster' or, when you were feeling very, very generous…'boy'. I am not Harry Potter anymore, save to my friends. You aren't my friends, or my family. The best outcome for the day you can hope for is being eaten alive by a Lusus. Vriska's, to be precise."

A girl with glasses, the sign for Scorpio on her shirt, and horns that looked like the pincer and tail of a scorpion, waved with a vicious grin. "And my Lusus is a giant spider. Just saying!" Vriska said with cheerful sadism.

"My name is Ofiuco Amduat(5)," Harry said with finality. "Terezi?"

The girl with the red-tinted glasses grinned. Well, she almost always grinned, but her grin, filled with a lot of sharp little teeth, widened. She waltzed up to Petunia, a cane in hand (was she blind? She didn't act blind), and then began staring at her, the Troll's lips set in a scowl rather than a grin. They stared at each other, Terezi in cold contempt, and Petunia with fear. Then, Terezi slapped her, once, then twice.

"Stop hitting Mum, you freak!" Dudley screamed.

"Oh? Would you rather I did the same for you?" Terezi purred. "This is the job of a Legislacerator, Dudley. Plus…" She slapped Petunia hard enough to draw blood. "Red blood. Not quite candy-red, but still…" She sniffed it, and then licked it off her face. "Delicious. I love red things."

"Careful, Terezi," said a girl who was dressed like a cat, and whose horns looked vaguely like cat ears. "Kanaya might think you're purrloining her rainbow-drinking thing."

"It's fine, Nepeta," Harry said. "She likes seeing my blood too. I'm used to it."

"Monster," Petunia choked out.

"Troll, actually," Terezi said. "Now…I wanted to ask you a few questions. I doubted I would get it from the walrus or the baby whale, as Ofiuco here puts it, but I thought I'd ask you. Oh, your guilt has been determined. Don't get me wrong, the stuff you put Ofiuco through when he was still Harry is stuff some of us have to put up with. But, well, I didn't think humans would stoop so low. And, well, we know Ofiuco has magic, even before his old man Trollified him. So…I'm going to ask you a few questions, and you're going to answer them. Now…how did his parents die?"

"A car crash! They were drunken dolescum, and…"

Terezi tapped her gently with the cane, but the gesture was enough to shut Petunia up. She sniffed the air. "As I thought…the sweet scent of deceit. Ooh, how I love it!" This time, she hit Petunia across the face with her cane. "Try again. Pulling wool over my eyes doesn't work when I'm blind."

Petunia snarled. "They were freaks, like him! They got blown up with some other freak who was attacking them! WE NEVER WANTED HIM! HE WAS LEFT ON OUR DOORSTEP BY THAT OLD FREAK DUMBLEDORE!"

"Who's Dumbledore?!" Harry demanded.

Petunia, after a moment, sneered. "Headmaster of the magical school your whore of a mother went to!" And then, it all spilled out of her, the hatred and jealousy for her sister, and for magic, of the wizards and witches, of what little she knew about the war her sister got caught up in. "If I knew you were going to turn out like this, I would have strangled you in that damned basket!" she finished.

Harry looked at her calmly, too calmly, and Petunia realised her mistake too late. The calmness was a serene anger. You could see it in his eyes, so much like her sister's. After a moment, he said, "Terezi, I think I have heard enough."

"As have I. But…I believe in sporting chances." Terezi grinned viciously, and pulled out a coin, double-headed, but with a scratched face. "I see the clean side up, you go free. Otherwise…Vriska?"

Vriska scurried forward, what looked like a raygun in her hands. "This thing is an Appearifier. It's currently set to where my Lusus is, and my Lusus is a big fucking spider. You'll get zapped there, and become its next meal. Any questions?"

Petunia didn't trust herself to reply. Dudley merely squealed, "You can't do this!"

"Jegus, he's so fucking dense, he makes black holes look envious!" Karkat snarled.

"He eats like one too," Harry snarked. "I had to cook for them, and not a single thank you either. At least Lusii are animals. They didn't have an excuse. Terezi?"

Terezi's grin widened, and she flipped the coin. When it landed on the floor, Petunia, seeing the clean side show, sighed in relief. "What are you so happy about, Horseface?" Terezi demanded.

"The coin's exonerated me," Petunia said.

"Coin? Surely you jest?" Terezi snarled, whipping off her glasses, revealing eyes that were little more than seas of solid red. "The prosecution counsel sees no coin. I'M BLIND, REMEMBER?!"

Vriska grinned, wielding her Appearifier. "Time for the sentence to be carried out?" she asked.

"Yes," Terezi said, replacing her glasses. "Any final farewell to your former family, Ofiuco?"

Harry merely shrugged. "Have pity on me!" Petunia wailed.

"I have pity for you. Goodbye, Aunt Petunia. It hasn't been pleasant."

Before Petunia could protest any further, Vriska shot them with the Appearifier…

* * *

…and they were somewhere else. With a massive pale spider looming over them. Petunia had enough time to scream for a long time, as it ate Vernon first, then Dudley, and then herself. Her last thought was regret that she hadn't killed the little bastard when she had the chance. That, and the fact that being eaten by a spider the size of a fairly large building was enough to make anyone arachnophobic. If she knew that she and her family would kill the spider by giving it a terminal case of food poisoning and cholesterol overdose, it would have given her little comfort.

As it was, Vriska was happy that her Lusus was dead. And so too was Ofiuco Amduat, formerly known as Harry Potter (save to his friends, anyway), albeit for different reasons. Still, he never knew that, soon, he would be drawn back to the world of his birth, like it or not…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Wow. I think that's the darkest and most evil that I've ever written Harry. Then again, he has been raised for a certain number of years by the Trolls. And for those of you unfamiliar with** ** _Homestuck_** **, it's a pretty twisted, violent society. Okay, Troll childhoods make Harry's raising by the Dursleys look sane, but their guardians (the Lusii mentioned above) are monsters. And as you noted with the scene above (which is heavily based on Terezi's little mock-trial of a stuffed dragon toy, Senator Lemonsnout, from the** ** _Homestuck_** **webcomic** **), he's not nice to anyone who's wronged him.**

 **I'm going for a Harry/Terezi pairing here, by the way. And while this part of the story is set during the early events of** ** _The Prisoner of Azkaban_** **, the main part of the story will take place during** ** _The Goblet of Fire_** **.**

 **Incidentally, any** ** _Homestuck_** **fans who come across this, well, I've done my research into Troll society, and yes, I am aware that, in the webcomic canon, they weren't always a violent society, but were made that way due to outside influence. For the purpose of this story, they have been like this, and Sgrub doesn't exist, or Sburb for that matter.**

 **1\. Amduat is the name of a serpent in Egyptian mythology, symbolic of the state from which all creation arose. Apollo was chosen because of his association with healing, and with his son Asclepius, both of whom are thought to be the figure in the Ophiuchus constellation, which is what he and Harry are of (the Trolls in** ** _Homestuck_** **are themed after constellations of the Zodiac, and have six letters for each of their names).**

 **2\. Yttral is named for the mad (even by Dalek standards) and eccentric Dalek scientist from the webcomic** ** _Second Empire_** **. Apollo Amduat is partially based on him.**

 **3\. I coined this term (though it may have been used by others before me) to describe the Sixth Doctor's coat. Imagine a dark-haired, horned Hiroto Minaka from** ** _Sekirei_** **, wearing the Sixth Doctor's coat, and you pretty much have Apollo Amduat.**

 **4.** **That's the starsign of Ophiuchus. I can't copy and paste it, the formatting of this website gets rid of it.**

 **5\. Ofiuco is the name for Ophiuchus in Italian and Spanish.**


	55. Ofiuco Amduat and the Goblet of Fire CH2

**I got a few interested reviews from a number of people (and a few who weren't as interested), so let me say it right here: this probably won't be turned into a full fic in the near future. Besides wanting to keep the fics more manageable, I am trying to fully read _Homestuck_ to get a better bead on the Trolls' personalities.**

 **KazuSakai made a good point in his review that a lot of what makes _Homestuck_ what it is is its commentary on video games, internet culture, and the like, and I still intend to read _Homestuck_ to get a better feel for the characters. But I think the Trolls (and indeed many of Homestuck's characters, human and Troll alike) can be transplanted away from the SBURB part of the story and, with a bit of hand-waving and exposition, can work equally well in another setting. It just needs to be done right, and I'm not so sure I can do it right yet. These two chapters are just a sampler, a sort of test story, and while I will keep the 'Dursley trial' of the first chapter if and when I do do a proper story, it may be that I take the story in a whole different direction. This is just me testing the waters a little.**

 **Incidentally, when I do get back to writing fanfic in earnest, I am going to try and bring out sequels to _Cycle of Sin_ and _Is Your Great-Aunt an AI?!_ It'll be some time yet before I do that, though...**

 **Oh, and I've started a new collection of sample chapters. Like sakurademonalchemist, I have decided to do one based on the Nasuverse. It's called _Zelretch's Collection of Alternates_ , and contains the first few chapters of _Repetita Iuvant_ , the pure _Fate/Zero_ version of _Res Nullius_. Have a look here:**

 **s/12327121/1/Zelretch-s-Collection-of-Alternates**

 **Anyway, have fun with the second chapter of _Ofiuco Amduat and the Goblet of Fire_...**

* * *

 _ **OFIUCO AMDUAT AND THE GOBLET OF FIRE**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **FIRST CONTACT**

 _A year later_ …

"I still can't fucking believe you talked us into this," Karkat grumbled at Harry. Harry still thought of himself as Harry Potter, even now, and some of his friends sometimes called him Harry, despite what he told his aunt before having her killed. Of course, to Alternia at large, he was now Ofiuco Amduat, or, if he was on Trollian, crazedCoatlscience (or CC(1)).

Anyway, Karkat complained as a form of punctuation, like a petulant apostrophe, or a fractious full-stop, or a querulous quotation mark. Harry had gotten used to it. And he had to be. They were currently within a scouting ship, parked on the edge of a certain field in England, after having found distinctive exotic energy discharges consistent with magic, specifically those like Harry could use. So, here he was, with Karkat, Tavros, Kanaya, Terezi, Sollux, Aradia, Vriska, Nepeta and Feferi.

"Karkat, look at it this way. You get to have an extended holiday on a world where the sunlight won't blind you unless you look directly at it, fewer things are trying to kill you, and so on. Plus, messing with humans is pretty fun, right?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, I guess," Karkat said. "It's just so weird looking at them, especially knowing you used to be like these guys."

Harry nodded. What his father put him through was hellish, to say the least. But in its own way, it was worth it. While life on Alternia was as violent and painful as it was at the Dursleys, at least there he had acceptance, at least from some parts. And it was fun.

"Still getting over the fact that your dad managed to persuade the Condesce to allow us to head up a scouting expedition," Vriska mused. "She's probably hoping we fail, and fail spectacularly."

"Actually, it's either that, or we succeed in gathering enough intelligence about the humans to help if she ever does decide to invade," Terezi said. "Earth's pretty far outside her expansion zone, though."

"Well, with the rumours I heard lately," Feferi said, "there's an alliance of those who are being attacked by our people. Personally, I don't like what she is doing, but…the Condesce, I have learned from my Lusus, tends to kill off her heirs once they come of age."

"Which is partly why we're here," Harry said. "We're trying to find the magic users here, the ones my late and unlamented aunt spoke of. See if there's anything interesting we can use to take control of Alternia."

"A bunch of teenagers looking to overthrow a tyrant?" Karkat said with a roll of his eyes. "Yeah, that always works in the movies, why not in reality?"

"Hey, we've got some of the best minds on Alternia here," Harry said. "And at least we're doing it sensibly by not plotting while on our own homeworld."

"Or talking about this in front of Eridan or Equius," Terezi said. "You know how they are about the haemospectrum and the status quo."

"And yet, Equius has a thing for Aradia," Harry said, indicating the bushy-haired Troll with the curling horns, like those of a ram. "Who, according to the haemospectrum, is the lowest of the low, unless you think of red as being below burgundy. Here, we don't care about the colour of your blood."

Aradia nodded. Given her diverse range of interests, it was hardly surprising that she was the de facto lead xenoanthropologist, and thus, the one who needed to read out exposition. She gestured at the viewscreens, showing a large number of people in eccentric dress milling around in a field, setting up tents, many of which seemed to have extras tents normally shouldn't have. "In any case, let's get down to business," Aradia said. "According to recon drones we sent out, this gathering is a supposedly covert operation in order to hold a magical sports event called the Quidditch World Cup. I say supposedly, but the magic users are doing an appalling job, and the non-magical owners of the area have been subjected to repeated exposures to a memory modification spell."

"So what the fuck is Quidditch?" Karkat demanded.

"There are a number of books on the subject that a few people are reading, and the memetic content analysers of the drones have compiled a list. Thanks, Sollux, for those analysers, by the way," Aradia said to Sollux Captor, a Troll with four horns and glasses with two differently coloured lenses, one red, the other blue.

"Nice to be appreciated, unlike some people," Sollux said. "Anyway, according to the analysis, Quidditch is similar to our Puntball, as well as to the human sport of soccer that Dr Amduat already observed. However, it is played in the air. It is also considerably more dangerous than soccer, as the magic users have enchanted metal balls to chase players. While scoring with one particular ball is important, the game is won when an elusive small ball called the Golden Snitch is caught."

Karkat, who was peering at the viewscreen showing the abridged rules of Quidditch, scoffed. "I dunno whether to congratulate these acephalic grubs for making it dangerous, or deride them for these banal bullshit rules. Who thought up that crap about the Snitch?!"

"Calm down, Nubby," Terezi said. "Though you are right…for a change." Over Karkat's spluttered indignation, she added, "Seriously, these rules _are_ insane. At least with cricket, for all those rules, you've got one ball, two batsmen, and those wicket things. Does magic corrode their thinkpans or something?"

"Sadly, that is increasingly seeming to be the case," Aradia said. "The drones have observed multiple incidents of discrimination based on lineage. One person here seems to have brought a number of books on wizarding society for her own perusal, and one of them relates to how those born to non-magical parents are perceived to be inferior to those born to a more-established magical lineage. However, unlike the haemospectrum, which has some basis in our ability, this Blood Purity doctrine is possibly spurious. We'll have to do some investigation. Luckily, Dr Amduat developed our disguises. The main problem is concealing our horns, but the holographic disguises help."

"I still feel unsafe about wearing some gizmo Dr Amduat made," Karkat said, wrinkling his nose. "I mean, your dad's a great guy, Harry, but his thinkpan's very different to everyone else."

"Who else would think of turning Harry from a boring human into a Troll?" Vriska remarked with a shrug. "Anyway, I think I'd make a very sexy human."

"Sure, you'll be beating them off with a stick, Vriska," Terezi said, rolling her blind eyes behind her glasses. "You want mine?"

"Hey, I can use my dice to defend myself," Vriska snorted. "A cane's interesting, but dice are even more so."

"Try not to get into a strife situation in the first place," Aradia pointed out. "The human wizards may be backward, even by human standards, but their power is very real. Look at Harry. Ever since Dr Amduat removed those blocks on his magic and that soul fragment, he's ridiculously powerful."

Which was another reason Harry wanted to be offworld, and nowhere near the Condesce should she ever come calling. There were already rumours that Harry had more power than the Condesce, and if those rumours got too loud, the queen bitch of Alternia (as Harry and the others privately dubbed her) might pre-emptively kill him.

Of course, having so much power made it harder to control his magic. It was why his Strife Specibus in his Sylladex only held the most sturdy (from a magic-channelling viewpoint) staves. Staves that Eridan, who used wands when he wasn't using crossbows, was jealous of. Of course, given how elitist Eridan was, Harry was glad he wasn't here on this expedition. Feferi was at least good natured for a high-ranking Troll, but Eridan and Equius were elitist morons, and Gamzee…well, while he was friends with Tavros and Karkat, Harry felt wary around Gamzee, as if he was a ticking time bomb waiting to go off.

That, and some of the stuff he said while high on Sopor Slime was majorly weird. He hoped he didn't meet anyone like that on Earth…

* * *

Elsewhere in the field, a girl with blonde hair and pale eyes sneezed. "Ah, the Blubbering Humdingers are talking about me behind my back. That, or the Alternian Trolls who are lurking nearby."

Hermione Granger looked at Luna Lovegood, fellow Ravenclaw and noted eccentric, and asked, perhaps unwisely, "Alternian Trolls?"

* * *

"Shit, we've been rumbled," Sollux muttered.

"What do you mean?" Kanaya asked.

"One of the probes we have monitoring the humans has found a human who knows we are here," Aradia said. "Appearifying her so that we can erase her memories in front of witnesses is ill-advised, of course. Though judging by the reaction of her companions, eccentric utterances are normal for her."

Tavros peered at the screen, before he said, "Uh, guys, is it me, or are those two girls coming this way?"

Karkat swore vehemently. Well, he frequently swore vehemently. Terezi swatted him on the head with her cane. "Calm down, Nubby! It's not a disaster. It'd be great to have some allies on the ground."

Aradia nodded. "Remember, recruiting other lifeforms as agents is allowed under scouting rules and regulations. We only wipe their memories if they look to be troublesome."

"There's one problem, though," Sollux said. "According to the memetic data gathered from the books, Harry's pretty famous in this community. They call him the Boy Who Lived thanks to surviving some instant death curse or other."

Vriska snorted. "Wow, we had a celebrity in our midst, and we didn't know it."

"Look, he's still got green irises and that scar. Okay, the scar's faded, but still…he might be recognisable," Sollux said.

"We'll burn that bridge when we come to it," Harry said, combing at his hair with his fingers until they covered his scar. "Until otherwise, you guys call me Ofiuco Amduat, got it?"

The other Trolls all nodded. "Okay, looks like they're nearly here," Nepeta said.

On the screen, the bushy-haired girl was saying to the rather dotty-looking blonde, "… _That is probably one of the weirdest things you have said, Luna. And yet, I'd sooner believe in sentient alien Trolls than…well…half the stuff we've gotten caught up in._ " She looked around, and said, " _I'm not surprised their spaceship's invisible too. They had it in a_ Doctor Who _video I once watched, one they never finished(_ _2)_ _._ "

The blonde, Luna, took out a stick, no, a wand, and waved it at the general area of the entrance. "Alohamora." Then, the airlock opened, showing the entrance. " _There, Hermione. Now, let's go meet our new friends._ "

" _Luna, why would you want to annoy some aliens? They might be here to conquer us or something._ "

"We are if the fucking Queen Bitch of Alternia has anything to say about it," Karkat said with a roll of the eyes. "Anyway, it's us who're gonna do the fucking annoying."

"Well, let's give them a warm welcome then, eh?" Vriska said with a smirk.

* * *

Hermione Granger didn't know why she let Luna get her into these messes. Then again, she had a soft spot for the young Ravenclaw ever since she found her being bullied. Hermione had been Sorted into Ravenclaw in her first year, and she was grateful for it. But to see Luna bullied by Cho Chang and Marietta Edgecomb, just like Hermione had been back at primary school…well, the two bonded. Luna was a fantasist, and an annoying one, but she was also an excellent lateral thinker, and the two had bonded, far better than she had with either Ronald Weasley or Neville Longbottom, though at least she got along best with the latter.

Still, to suddenly declare the existence of an invisible alien spaceship, populated by Trolls from the planet Alternia, was one of Luna's weirder moments. Few wizards would even talk about ideas that were science fiction rather than fantasy.

Perhaps it was curiosity, the thought of making first contact with aliens, that had her allowing Luna to drag her into this. That, and the fact that when Luna dragged one into a mess, it was at least more entertaining and escapable than anything Ron had dragged her into.

After making their way through an airlock, Luna led Hermione down a corridor, and to a door, which she rapped on. Hermione then heard a raspy voice, like a teenaged boy, mutter, "Did she actually fucking _knock?!_ "

"It's polite to," Luna called out. "May we come in?"

"Of course you can," purred a girl's voice. "Join the party."

The door slid open, and Luna skipped merrily in, Hermione following with a sigh.

The room beyond looked like a control centre of some kind, with a bank of screens on one wall. However, it had a very lived-in look, more _Red Dwarf_ than _Star Trek_. What had to be discarded food containers littered the desks, and there was even a games console of some sort hooked up to a television. It seemed one part CCTV control room and two parts living area.

And inhabiting the room were ten…creatures. Or aliens.

They looked human, for the most part. Hell, they looked like boys and girls her own age. But they had grey skin, twilight-coloured sclera, sharp teeth, and horns of varying sizes and shapes. They all wore t-shirts with astrological symbols on them. Hermione was surprised to see one of them wearing a t-shirt with the sign for Ophiuchus on it, as it wasn't really thought of as part of the Zodiac.

In fact, it was this one who drew the most attention from her. Like the other creatures, he had a messy mop of black hair on his forehead. His horns were jagged, like lightning bolts. His eyes had green irises, peering out from behind glasses.

"Take a fucking picture," one of the other male Trolls, with short horns and a belligerent attitude muttered. His shirt had the astrological sign for Cancer on it. "It'd last longer."

He was promptly whacked over the head by a female Troll wearing red-tinted glasses, and wielding a cane. "Don't be rude, Nubby."

"DON'T FUCKING CALL ME THAT, TEREZI!" snapped the male Troll.

"Calm down, Karkat, you're making a bad impression in front of the aliens," the green-eyed Troll said. He then waved at them. "Hi. Like Vriska here said, join the party." He indicated one of the female Trolls, who wore glasses, had strangely-shaped horns, and what seemed to be seven pupils in her left eye.

Hermione sighed. What the hell had Luna gotten her into now?

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Hermione and Luna have met the Trolls, who are on Earth for a mission of their own. Methinks a touch of chaos is going to hit the Quidditch World Cup, and woe betide any Death Eaters who interfere.**

 **I didn't actually intend for Hermione and Luna to meet the Trolls, but after the sneeze cut, it just seemed to go naturally from there. Hermione doesn't recognise Harry partly because there're no photos of him as a child, and partly because he has concealed his scar.**

 **Incidentally, I just learned that Calliope the Cherub actually does use the Ophiuchus symbol in** ** _Homestuck_** **. For the sake of this story, assume that Calliope does not exist here.**

 **1\. I used the same ATGC (like the base codons of DNA) nomenclature for the initials of the usernames of the Trolls (and of the humans from** ** _Homestuck_** **, but that's another matter). A coatl is a type of winged serpent from Aztec mythology, with the most famous being the god Quetzlcoatl.**

 **2\. Hermione is referring to Skagra's ship in** ** _Doctor Who: Shada_** **, a story by Douglas Adams that was never finished due to strikes at the BBC. Footage from the story is seen in** ** _The Five Doctors_** **, and it was recently novelised by Gareth Roberts. Parts of it was also used for the first Dirk Gently novel, particularly the character of Chronotis. This story is set in 1994 (yes, I know,** ** _Homestuck_** **is set mostly in 2009, it's a fanfic, deal with it), and** ** _Shada_** **was released on VHS two years previously.**


	56. On the Delights of Drinking Blood Chap 1

**As I have noted before, time and time again, I do NOT do challenges normally. That being said, there are small exceptions to the rule, and this story was inspired by DZ2's _Eyeballs to Entrails_ Challenge, though I do not intend to follow ALL of the rules of said challenge, so this is not answering it. However, I have asked permission from DZ2 to write it my way, and have received it. Therefore, it is not a full response, but rather, just inspired by it and based on it.  
**

 **The gist of the challenge was basically to have Luna Lovegood turned into a vampire, and the first person she would turn would be Harry. Luna would be not unlike Drusilla from _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_. However, having not watched the series, nor do I have any desire or inclination to do so, I still wanted to do my own take on a semi-insane vampire Luna Lovegood. Therefore, I took my inspiration from elsewhere. The vampires of this story are particularly based on those from _Hellsing_ , albeit with a lot of modifications, and fans of _Hellsing Ultimate Abridged_ , as well as my crossover stories _Haemophilia_ and _The Uncertainty Principle_ , will be delighted to learn that Luna is partially based on Abridged Alucard, along with other violent and semi-insane characters (like Tiny Tina from the _Borderlands_ games, for example, or maybe Deadpool).**

 **This WILL be a cracky fic. Oh, it will certainly have a lot of horror, violence, pathos, bashing, and dubious magicryptozoology, but for some reason, vampire Luna seems to lend herself very well to dark comedy. Also, if this gets posted as a full story, it will be posted as a pure Harry Potter fic, if only because the crossovers are more as references.**

 **Incidentally, for those of you interested in the original challenge, look it up here: topic/184815/159757359/1/Eyeballs-to-Entrails**

* * *

 _ **ON THE DELIGHTS OF DRINKING BLOOD**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **ON THE INADVISABILITY OF DRINKING SEER'S BLOOD**

Thomas Smith, once better known (during his metaphorical 5 minutes of fame, which was closer to five weeks, but still pretty ephemeral in the fame stakes) as Tom the Bomb when he was part of the short-lived shock rock group Nuclear Arsenal, had partaken of a variety of drugs in his time. Of course, once he became a vampire, the only drug he needed was blood. But during his lifetime, he had taken a number of drugs. It was one of his dalliances with lysergic acid diethylamide while watching Arthur Brown scream about being 'the God of Hellfire' on Top of the Pops(1) that inspired him to form Nuclear Arsenal (a band one critic claimed would be like a nuclear weapon going off: all the exciting bits over in a flash, but with unwanted contamination lingering for decades if not centuries to come, a not-inaccurate assessment as it turned out).

If he was lucid enough to describe the effects of intoxication he was feeling after drinking this girl's blood, he would have described it as some bizarre combination of being drunk, and being high on a particularly potent hallucinogen. He was now forty-seven years old, though he looked perhaps half that thanks to being turned at a relatively young age, but he acted like a petulant teenager most of the time, and his sire had given up on teaching him a number of the various rules and truisms fledgling vampires should abide by. So he could be forgiven for not knowing a relatively minor rule.

Never drink the blood of a seer.

The reason for this was interesting. Vampires didn't _just_ drink blood: they could absorb the souls of their victims, should they wish to, and view the memories of their victims. They could also use said absorbed victims as familiars, as well as a means of avoiding death by sacrificing said familiar. Tom the Bomb (called Tom the Bum by many of his so-called peers) never really paid attention to his sire's lessons, and so didn't have a familiar to his name, though considering his desires for a harem of sexy vampire women, this was probably for the best. He just loved drinking blood and killing people. Of course, normal blood drinking would still transfer some memories, but he put those strange visions of other people's lives down to a bad acid flashback.

Anyway, the reason why drinking the blood of a seer was inadvisable was that seers absorbed information from many directions, from back, forth, and sideways in time. This was why seers made frustrating obtuse prophecies, when they had them at all. They could also see things that were there…but nobody else could.

Now, Tom the Bomb, who fancied himself a latter-day Byron (he certainly indulged in excesses even the notoriously hedonistic and unhinged Lord Byron would have flinched at, but he didn't have Byron's skill at poetry, sadly), had come across this father/daughter pair while at the Quidditch World Cup. Most if not all vampires were aware of wizards, and Tom decided that the World Cup might be a good place to find victims. After all, he had eaten his share of wizards. They tasted rather delectable, presumably due to the magic inside them. So before making his attack, he donned his warpaint (well, his facepaint from back when he was the lead singer of Nuclear Arsenal), dumped a fuckton of glitter onto himself, and had waited for an opportune moment.

After the game, and a bunch of Death Eaters started causing chaos, Tom found it a good opportunity to abduct the father and daughter, and took them into a secluded area of the woods, whereupon he broke the man's neck. Why? He wanted him alive but paralysed to witness his daughter's demise, and then drank the blood of the girl screaming for her daddy. Now, he didn't want to turn her. The few women he had managed to turn had parted ways with him shortly thereafter due to his obnoxious attitude (plus their insistence that, even if it was part of his vampire persona, vampires do NOT sparkle!), and he preferred his lovers to be at least twenty or up. No, he just wanted to kill her by drinking her blood.

Unfortunately, due to the fact that her blood had started to affect him, he lost control and turned her. He was unaware of that, though. He was babbling things that only made a small amount of sense, like "I CAN SEE THE FYOO-CHERRRR(2)!" and, "Veni! Veni! Veni!" He didn't realise that his would be victim had turned, and was about to turn the tables. Then again, perhaps it was for the best, for him, anyway…

* * *

Luna Lovegood was having a bad day. Though it started out as a good day, what with going to see the Quidditch World Cup finals, though she frequently found the mascots more entertaining than the game itself. Watching Veela get stroppy was frequently funny. But then, the Death Eaters attacked, and she and her father were pounced upon by this vampiric arsehole. He took them deeper into the woods, he broke her daddy's neck, and bit into her own. The pain was rather bad, she had to admit, and once the vampire had withdrawn, the turning hurt rather worse than the bite did. She idly wondered if this was how regeneration felt to the Doctor from _Doctor Who_ in one of the few remotely lucid parts of her mind.

Then, after what seemed like an eternity, but was closer to about ten or fifteen minutes, she came to. Unsteadily, she got to her feet, absently wiping the blood from the puncture wounds on her neck, before looking at the vampire dancing around, singing something about a girl called Lucy being in the sky with diamonds.

Now, she had a choice. Should she drink his blood, or just kill him? Well, she was a growing girl. She needed blood, even if it was from a tainted source like her vampiric sire. So she promptly opened up her mouth, revealing a set of teeth that a shark would be proud of, jagged and sharp, before leaping onto the vampire and biting down onto his neck with a roar of "OM NOM NOM!"

It was over within seconds, and soon, Tom the Bomb had bombed out. She had all of his memories at his disposal (sadly, not too many were actually of use to her), and she had her first familiar. He was also going to be her first metaphysical meatshield.

Then, she remembered what she had forgotten in what was understandably a tsunami of all-consuming rage. Namely, her father. She rushed to his side in an instant, not noticing or caring about the blood and gore that painted her lips and chin. If she had the wit to realise it at the time, she would have been heartened to know that her father didn't care. But at the moment, she was worried that she was about to witness the death of another parent.

Luna cast a diagnostic spell. While she wasn't a trained Healer by any means, her father had taught her a few basic spells for first aid for their expeditions. And what they were telling her wasn't good. If she shifted him too much, his injury would get worse, changing him from a quadriplegic to dead. Using a Portkey or Apparition was out of the question, and a Body Bind might cause the injury to worsen when applied. The authorities were also having to deal with the riot, and she doubted they'd want to help Xenophilus Lovegood, noted conspiracy theorist and muckraker, or Luna 'Loony' Lovegood, now a vampire.

Seeing the dilemma in his daughter's eyes, Xenophilus Lovegood, who saw what had happened, and knew precisely what his daughter had turned into, rasped, "Luna…make me a familiar. That way…I'll always be with you."

Luna, somewhat reluctantly, despite the fact that part of her was really raring to partake of this freely-offered meal, opened her mouth, revealing once more the shark-like maw of a real fucking vampire, before she bit down hard on her father's neck.

She was ashamed to admit that his blood tasted fantastic.

* * *

The next morning, Luna and her father (who, being her familiar, could be given a physical body of his own) were back at the Rookery. She let her father out with his own physical body because less questions would be asked that way. And she didn't particularly want to go to an orphanage, or be adopted. After absorbing her father into the darkness that now filled her soul, she had, under his direction, created a Portkey that led back to Ottery St Catchpole.

She had spent that time thumbing through _So, You're A Real Fucking Vampire Now_ , by Mr Alphonse Urquhart Card, the Brunested Sisters, and K Zelretch Schweinorg, a book which had fallen through a rift in time and space and into her bookshelf. Said rift was the temporary result of her mother's last experiment in spellcrafting.

Contrary to popular opinion, holy symbols and water did little to vampires. Sunlight just weakened them, but the same could be said for sedentary shut-ins in the sunlight-weakening stakes. A stake through the heart would be a threat to a fledgling, as would cutting off the head, so she had to be careful of that. Fire was a big threat, and so was Fiendfyre, but the latter was pretty much a threat to anything on this planet. It was basically the wizarding equivalent of napalm, albeit (barely) controllable, and the fire burned at temperatures a smelting furnace would envy.

Another misconception was that vampires didn't age. It was more that aging was wholly optional, which Luna found agreeable. If she didn't age, she would get to miss out on all sorts of fun stuff. She would just let herself age to some optimal age between her late teens and late twenties, and then stop. And she could eat normal food. It just wouldn't give her any nutritional value before coming out the other end. And considering how much she loved her puddings, she was grateful.

At the moment, she was looking at the section marked _Dealing with Immortality_. Much of the section could be boiled down to a single concept: _Get a hobby_.

Now, magicryptozoology would be a good long-term hobby, as would conspiracy theories (writing about them, investigating them, perhaps even instigating them now that her lifespan could be measured in centuries), but the book suggested variety would be good.

Luna pursed her lips. Should she pursue the path of the great Wowbagger the Infinitely Prolonged and insult everyone in Magical Britain in alphabetical order(3)? Take over the world using a children's card game? Unfortunately, she couldn't do the really fun stuff until she was older. Her daddy said so, and while he was now a familiar bound to her through vampiric haemophagy, she was still daddy's little girl. Which meant no summoning potentially amorous betentacled monstrosities from beyond time, space, and sanity until she was 18 at least.

She looked at one section under the hobbies section, where Mr Card had mentioned something about vampire hunting. _Now, the trick to doing it in a fun way, as long as you've got a few thousand souls spare, is to hold back. You'll get the shit shot out of you, or carved out of you, and it's a bit painful, but trust me, the 'OH FUCK!' look on their faces afterwards when you start wrecking their shit is TOTALLY worth it_.

That did have an interesting ring to it, vampire hunting…but Luna had her own thoughts about what to hunt. A smirk touched her features. Vampires always had some degree of bloodlust and loosening of morals, and combined with Luna's seer capabilities and her general oddness (which were only partly due to her seer abilities), it made for an unnerving combination.

You see, part of having the Sight meant that you were sensitive to all sorts of information, information the human brain, even one as lateral as Luna Lovegood's, was ill-equipped to interpret. But one thing she did know was that Magic was becoming stagnant, especially in Magical Britain. Between the Blood Purists and their hypocritical leader Voldemort on one side, and a certain old goat and his Greater Good on the other, the stasis quo had been maintained for far too long.

Luna Lovegood began to cackle, her malicious mirth echoing around the Rookery, until her father said, "My little bloodthirsty radish, I know sometimes you can't help yourself, but can you please erect wards before you start laughing in an evil manner? They already think we are insane, even if sanity is highly overrated, but if, say, the Weasleys hear that laughter, they may decide to call Dumbledore, and that will end badly."

Luna pouted, but did as she was bidden. Then, she started laughing evilly again. But her heart wasn't in it this time, having been interrupted earlier. She then began swearing profusely in an obscure language that hadn't been heard on the Earth (aside from obsessive linguistic scholars and fanboys) since the time Gilgamesh walked the planet, calling everyone in earshot mongrels.

Which was a crying shame, as the expletives were amongst the best ever committed to a language. English was lacking by comparison.

"Now, now, my little turnip, calm down. My mother certainly did nothing with oxen using a golden jewelled staff and rancid beef fat," Xenophilus chided gently. "I know you're frustrated, going through changes, you just don't need to be so vocal about it."

The syllables Luna uttered could be roughly translated to ' _Fuck that for a laugh_ ' in English, though it loses some of the poetry, elegance, and vehemence in translation. A small part of her mind was surprised at her own increasing vulgarity, but she guessed that was down to the vampirism loosening her inhibitions somewhat. Either that, or the shock of being turned gave her a bad case of coprolalia(4).

"Look, if you are going to keep talking like that young lady, you will get no pudding tonight."

Luna Lovegood's melodramatic wail of "NOOOOOOO!" was so strong, it actually broke the sound-dampening wards. In the Burrow, Molly Weasley heard it, believed it to be a Banshee, and took umbrage at what she considered to be unwanted competition…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Yeah, okay, this is VERY cracky. Hopefully, it entertained you guys. Luna's going to be the mutant offspring of so many crazy characters. Abridged Alucard, Tiny Tina from** ** _Borderlands_** **(as you'll see in the next chapter), Missy from** ** _Doctor Who_** **…yeah, fun times are ahead.**

 **Now, while I am disregarding some of the rules of the challenge, one thing that will remain is that Luna's first fledgling WILL be Harry. Tom the Bomb and Xenophilus don't count: they are familiars.**

 **1\. I am referring, of course, to Arthur Brown's famous song** ** _Fire_** **, which begins with him screaming "I AM THE GOD OF HELLFIRE, AND I BRING YOU…FIRE!"** ** _Top of the Pops_** **was a music show that used to run on the BBC for decades. Unfortunately, it's not been without controversy, especially in recent years with the Jimmy Saville saga…**

 **2\. This is a reference to** ** _Dragonball Z: Bardock- Father of Goku Abridged_** **.**

 **3\. Wowbagger the Infinitely Prolonged and his quest appeared in the Douglas Adams novel** ** _Life, the Universe, and Everything_** **. Which, incidentally, was derived from an old, rejected** ** _Doctor Who_** **script Adams wrote called** ** _Doctor Who and the Krikkitmen_** **. No, really!**

 **4\. You know how people with Tourette's Syndrome are stereotypically shown to impulsively swear frequently? This is the technical term for that, though it only occurs in a small percentage of people with Tourette's Syndrome.**


	57. On the Delights of Chap 2 (Original)

**I'm gratified at the attention the first chapter of _On the Delights of Drinking Blood_ got. Chapter 2 and 3, which are currently completed, are less humorous and more dark, though they still have humour. I think it's partly the exposition that needs to be gotten out of the way, plus having Harry learn he is a vampire, work off the understandable anger (offscreen), and take his first steps to becoming a darker Harry Potter. The story itself won't be published for a while yet: I want to get some writing of my normal fiction (as opposed to fanfic) done.**

 **It was while doing this chapter that I decided I was going to do some Weasley bashing. I normally don't do so, save for some very mild retrospective bashing in a few of my post-Hogwarts fanfics, but in this fic, for once, I'm going to do Ron-bashing, Ginny-bashing, and Molly-bashing. I generally don't: Dumbledore has more reason to be bashed than they do IMO, but for this story, it fits. So, Weasley-lovers, I am sorry.**

 **EDIT (9/2/2017): Unfortunately, while writing a continuation of this story, it got too bogged down in angst. I've done a few more rewrites, and the first three chapters of the full version of the story will be published later today. It was hard to get right, but for a darkly comic story, it was worth it.**

* * *

 _ **ON THE DELIGHTS OF DRINKING BLOOD**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **ON THE NECESSITY OF TURNING HARRY POTTER INTO A VAMPIRE**

 **(ORIGINAL VERSION)**

" _All around Hogwarts Castle, the Wrackspurts chased the Nargles, the Wrackspurts thought 'twas all in good fun,_ _ **POP!**_ _goes the Nargles_ ," Luna sang softly to herself as she skipped along the corridor(1). She was thinking about the various ways she could finally deal with the Nargles, now she was a Real Fucking Vampire. Nargles being the pet name she had for the bullies in Ravenclaw who hid her stuff.

While eating them held a certain appeal, she did have to be judicious in how she dealt with them. Targeting Slytherins would call down the wrath of Snape and Dumbledore. Eating anyone from other Houses would call down the wrath of the rest of the staff. Which was why she settled for warding her belongings (she didn't know why she hadn't thought of this before) with charms that acted as the magical equivalent of tasers. On her first day back here, she found Marietta Edgecomb twitching on the floor, shitting herself. And when Flitwick confronted Luna, she merely retorted that he had done fuck-all to stop the bullying against her, so she was doing what she needed to do.

Any attempts at retaliation were quashed when Luna had persuaded the Weasley Twins to help her out. The Weasleys were mostly sheep following Dumbledore and his Judas Goat blindly to the slaughter, but a few were capable of critical thought…though the Twins usually worked in deconstruction, of the rules and mores of society, of social convention…and of anyone who needed taking down a peg or two. And they willingly agreed to humiliate anyone who dared to hurt Luna. While currently unaware of her new status as a Real Fucking Vampire, they were willing enough minions that she idly considered turning them. Anyway, they at least viewed her as a little sister, whereas most in the Weasley family saw her as an irritation at best. Even her former friend Ginny, of late, had seen her as such. Ever since Harry Potter had rescued her in the Chamber of Secrets.

Of course, she knew why. Luna knew that Dumbledore wasn't the kindly old grandfather figure he made himself out to be. What better way for a true Dark Lord to disguise himself than as an eccentric grandfather figure and who, by stealth, false humility and diffidence, had attained three of the highest offices in Magical Britain? He wasn't all-powerful, true, but that was the thing. He didn't need to appear all-powerful. There were, after all, many kinds of power.

Luna could see sideways in time, and while in many realities, Dumbledore was a genuinely decent person, albeit a manipulative man who was blinkered to many, though not all, of his faults (and those of others), unfortunately, this particular iteration of Luna Lamia Lovegood was living in the reality where he was an utter twat. But then again, that was going to make tearing down his carefully-orchestrated plans and his so-called Greater Good all the more enjoyable.

Of course, there was one thing she needed to do. Her Sight was acting up of late, and the visions were even more confusing than ever. But one thing that she did see was that Harry Potter needed help before long. And the problem was, he wasn't getting it. Dumbledore had too much influence. Harry was being shaped into a weapon, and as a sacrificial lamb, a messianic figure doomed to die so that Dumbledore would retain his power over Magical Britain.

Well, Luna had her own way of dealing with that. She was waiting until the time was right, when Harry would be at a point where he would be more willing to listen to her offer. She didn't want to be manipulative, not like the old wether(2), but Harry needed to be in a situation where he realised he needed more power.

Of course, once he learned of what she did shortly before the return to Hogwarts, maybe he might be more amenable…

* * *

Harry tried not to swear profusely. But it was getting increasingly hard to do so. He had just been entered into the Tri-Wizard Tournament against his will, and most of the school believed he had found a way to enter himself. And everyone else still thought he should compete, due to some malarkey about a magical contract.

So preoccupied was he with his thoughts shortly after parting ways with Cedric Diggory that he didn't even notice anyone nearby until he was suddenly yanked off his feet and pulled into an alcove. And even then, he had no idea what the hell happened for a while, as he saw a pair of large, pale eyes that seemed to strobe and fluoresce.

For a time, he drifted in the dark oblivion of unconsciousness, only distantly aware of a pain in his neck, an even greater pain in his forehead, and a general sense of pain everywhere. He had gotten used to the latter, thanks to the Dursleys in his time as their little House Elf.

The next thing he knew, he was waking up in what seemed like a living room of some kind, not unlike the common room of Gryffindor Tower. He was seated in a very comfortable armchair, and opposite him, drinking what seemed to be a glass of red wine, was a girl in Ravenclaw robes.

She had dirty blonde hair, rather protuberant pale eyes, and a general sense of dottiness to her, apparently reading a book upside down. He noted a Time-Turner hanging on a chain around her neck, along with what looked like a Butterbeer cork on a crude necklace. She looked vaguely familiar, though he didn't know why. She was probably in the year below him, given her looks.

But there was this strange air about her. Like there was madness and intelligence and darkness and insanity clashing within her like a storm. He didn't know why he felt that coming from her. But oddly enough, he wasn't afraid of it. In fact, he felt almost comforted, and he didn't know why. Except…maybe this was someone who was more than a little broken inside.

Like he was.

"Sorry about doing this," she said in an ethereal voice, not looking at him. "I was afraid that if I gave you the chance to decline, you would have done so. As a great man once said, stress and nervous tension are major problems in the galaxy, and it is to relieve such things that I will let you know the good news before I hit you with what will make you upset at the very least." Another arm seemed to emerge from her robes, and began counting off the points she made. "One, I mean you absolutely no ill-will or intent to do deliberate harm, and I intend to help you stop your enemies from hurting you ever again. That includes Voldemort, his Snake Eaters, and the menagerie you are forced to call relatives. Two, I will be completely honest with you whenever sanity allows, and I will swear a magical vow to that effect if you wish. Three, we have moved about eight hours back in time, and we are currently in one of Hogwarts' secret rooms, known either as the Come and Go Room, or the Room of Requirement. Food and drink is BYO due to Gamp's Law, but otherwise, it can create almost anything. Four, you had a bit of Voldemort's soul in your head, but it's gone now. Five…did you ever see _The Daily Prophet_ when they announced the death and disappearance of a number of Death Eaters?"

Harry, a little overwhelmed by the sudden information dump, not to mention that this girl had grown an extra fucking arm, could only nod mutely. Hoo boy, he remembered it. In the aftermath of the Quidditch World Cup and the riot afterwards, there were a number of articles in that 'esteemed' newspaper criticising the Ministry of Magic. Harry got the feeling that a lot of it needed to be criticised anyway, given how sloppy everything had been, the way he saw it. Like Hagrid being dragged off to Azkaban without trial because of the Chamber of Secrets fiasco, the miscarriage of justice against his godfather, the inability to organise the Quidditch World Cup…

Anyway, there had been an article about a break-in at Azkaban. And a possible break-out, but nobody was able to tell for sure whether the prisoners had actually escaped, or had been killed. After all, there was a lot of blood and gore coating the high-security area.

After a moment, Harry realised why she had asked that. "That was you?"

She smiled, putting down her book and her glass of wine. The third arm vanished in a cloud of shadow. "Yep. I'm Luna Lovegood, but most people call me Looney. You are Harry Potter, but most people call you the Boy Who Lived. I'm sure we despise our respective epithets. They say a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet, but Shakespeare was being rather too naïve. Or maybe he had too many Wrackspurts, they can infect Muggles."

Harry blinked. He would have said that he was rapidly losing a grip on the situation, but that implied he had any to begin with. And why the hell did he have a strange case of thirst? He'd just been at the Halloween Feast (where the other students celebrated his parents' murder, something he couldn't get over: okay, they were celebrating the defeat of Voldemort, but still…), and he had been full, and had drunk enough to ensure thirst would not be an issue.

"Do you think I'm mad?" The question came out of nowhere, and Harry didn't know how to respond to that, before she said, "Oh, it's okay. The best type of people are usually mad to some degree or another. Sadly, so are the worst sort of people. Personally, I think it's more fun to be insane. This world is nothing but." Her countenance became rather solemn. "Like tonight. Someone put your name into the Goblet of Fire. Someone who wants you dead, or at least run ragged through the year. Remember, for all Bagman and Crouch's assurances of the Tri-Wizard Tournament being safer, they still had an Age Line around it. And yet, someone bypassed it, cast a Confundus on the Goblet to accept your name under a different school, and chucked your name into it. Yes, I know you didn't. No, I don't know who did. But I thought you would need my help, hence my taking the liberty of bringing you here."

Harry, after a moment, nodded. It seemed like the right thing to do. After all, he could see no doors or windows, which meant he was trapped here with this semi-deranged girl. But at the same time…he felt strangely at ease around her in some regards. She had been utterly candid with him in a way few had been. Still, he couldn't deny a nagging feeling that something was going to go wrong very soon. Either that, or he was REALLY getting thirsty. He hadn't felt this way since he was locked in the cupboard for days on end.

"Incidentally," she said, "if you feel you're beginning to trust me quicker than you normally would, that's normal, from what I've read. I suggest fighting it so that you can trust me normally, rather than due to the sire-fledgling bond."

Harry gaped. "What?"

She indicated the walls of the room. "Why do you think there's no windows or doors at the moment? I thought, if you got angry with what I'm about to tell you, we could fight it out. Hence why I took the Time-Turner. You'll probably get angry at what I did to you, Harry. Don't worry, you can't hurt me much. But let me tell you, before you get angry, is that I have made you harder, better, faster, and stronger. You'll need that for the Tri-Wizard Tournament. You'll need that to face Voldemort. Otherwise, you will die a martyr's death. Which isn't a bad way to go if you are going to die, but frankly, I'm sure that you'd prefer to live first."

Harry's suspicion that Murphy's Law was going to rear its ugly head any second now. Luna was trying to help him, if she wasn't lying. But was it going to be anything like how Dobby tried to help him? "What did you do to me?"

Luna sighed, gathering herself together, before she said, in four words, something that had his world crashing down around him.

"You're a vampire, Harry."

* * *

Ten minutes later, as Harry panted, his anger now back down to a simmering heat, the wreckage of furniture all around them, scorch marks on the wall, Luna Lovegood said, in an understanding tone of voice, and despite her slightly tattered clothes, "That's a perfectly understandable reaction, Harry."

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Luna's ganked Harry and turned him into a vampire. Now, I decided to skip the major outburst of anger simply because that's no fun to write, and we can get to the more funny stuff in the next chapter. So for those of you worried that Luna isn't as funny this time, rest assured, we will get back to that.**

 **Also, why would Luna not ask Harry's permission? Well, she tends to march to the beat of her own drum, even in canon, and being a vampire would make her more prone to doing things, and seeking forgiveness rather than permission. But she also knew that would have consequences, so she let him attack her. Although she will do a few things for Harry's good without letting him know beforehand, she will at least explain afterwards.**

 **Incidentally, the concept of Luna 'electrifying' her belongings, catching one of her bullies, and berating Flitwick for allowing the bullying to happen, comes from** ** _Faery Heroes_** **by Silently Watches, one of the many Lunar Harmony time travel fics inspired by one of Paladeus' challenges. Oh, and it's the only one that I know of that is finished.**

 **1\. A reference to Tiny Tina's introduction in** ** _Borderlands 2_** **. Okay, Luna doesn't exactly blow up her bullies while singing her own version of Pop Goes the Weasel, but even so, it was too appealing to ignore.**

 **2\. A wether is another name for a castrated goat. I stumbled across this while researching one of my Dumbledore-bashing fics, and found this a good insult for either the bashable Dumbledore, or else for enemies of the canon Dumbledore.**


	58. Just a Touch of Kleptomania Chapter 1

**Welp, I should really stop reading DZ2's forums. It's not enough that I've been inspired to write one story based on their _Eyeballs to Entrails_ challenge ( _On the Delights of Drinking Blood_ , obviously). Now I have been inspired by another.**

 **This one is loosely based on (and thus not a full response to) their _What's Yours Is Mine_ challenge. The concept of Harry being a thief struck a chord with me, and when I thought about powers and things that might help him as a thief, I was inspired from two sources mentioned below: Raziel's Shifting abilities from the _Legacy of Kain_ games, as well as Death and his family's ability to go 'between' moments from the Discworld novels. Like _On the Delights of Drinking Blood_ , this is a Lunar Harmony story, my fourth if you count my _Henry Ashford_ stories, a pair of crossovers with _Resident Evil_. The powers are probably like something out of fantasy cliches and the main characters may seem OP, but hey. This is a story meant to be read for fun. Not quite as overtly humorous as _On the Delights of Drinking Blood_ , but as with that story and one of its inspirations, Silently Watches' _Faery Heroes_ , its about three outsiders sticking it sideways to Magical Britain.**

 **As with _On the Delights of Drinking Blood_ , this story has Dumbledore bashing. However, this story won't have Weasley-bashing, beyond Ron falling out with his friends over the Fourth Year.**

 **Incidentally, if this story does get published as a standalone story, it probably won't be until the next big update. That in itself won't be for a while, as I HAVE to take a break from fanfic writing, BUT said big update will have the first chapters to the sequels for _Is Your Great-Aunt an AI?!_ and _Cycle of Sin,_ along with the first chapters of _Res Nullius_. So, keep that in mind.**

* * *

 _ **JUST A TOUCH OF KLEPTOMANIA**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **A TRIPTYCH OF THIEVES**

The residents of the rather dreary suburban street of Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surrey enjoyed gossip and rumour, the more salacious and malicious the better. Given the rather monotonous appearance of their street, this was probably to relieve the ennui of their existence. Still, the rumours around 4 Privet Drive were amongst the most scandalous, even if many in didn't quite believe some of those rumours.

These rumours revolved around the black sheep of the Dursleys family, the nephew of Petunia, one Harry Potter. Petunia spread those rumours herself, aided and abetted by her husband and her son. The rumours and gossip stated that the boy was a criminal delinquent, taking after his parents in that regard, and went to St Brutus', a school that, in another time, would have been called a borstal.

Now, many didn't quite believe it, if only because, despite the praises being sung of Dudley Dursley, he was a fairly well-known local bully. True, Privet Drive was generally populated by a bunch of upwardly mobile snobs who looked down on Harry's scruffy clothes (because the Dursleys never deigned to buy him anything new), and there were mysterious thefts that happened on Privet Drive over the past few years. But most residents of Privet Drive also merely thought that Petunia Dursley was a dried-up cow who had pretensions to affluence when in reality, she was full of effluence, along with her husband. Most residents of Privet Drive held the Dursleys in mildly amused contempt. But then again, many of them held each other in such bored disdain.

The rumours were mostly wrong. Harry Potter's parents were not drunken dole-bludgers, but rather heroes of a hidden part of society, who had died saving him. He didn't go to St Brutus', but to Hogwarts, a school in a Scottish castle that catered to young wizards and witches of Britain. And in general, Harry was a decent enough young man, certainly far more so than the rest of his family.

But there was one thing they had gotten right. Harry was indeed a criminal, and had been from an early age. Since before he learned of his right to attend Hogwarts, he knew he had magic. And he used it to get his own way. With his birthright stolen from him, he began stealing it back, with interest…

* * *

The bedroom was luxurious, lined with artworks and valuables of many kinds, along with bookshelves of magnificently dark wood filled with books of all kinds, magical and mundane. It would not look out of place in the opulence of Versailles, Buckingham Palace, or any of the great palaces all over the world. It was actually the interior of a luxury wizarding trunk, with the occupant no longer sleeping in the room he was nominally meant to.

In a bed fit for any monarch lay a teenager, completely naked under the sheets. His figure, while no musclebound mass, was nonetheless something many a woman would find desirable. His messy hair framed features that were handsome, his emerald eyes currently closed in repose. A fading scar snaked out of his fringe, like a lightning bolt.

There were many clocks on the wall, but one in particular began tolling out the time, twelve strokes. Afterwards, a strange, warped noise seemed to fill the air. The paintings, most of which showed sun-drenched rural landscapes, suddenly shifted into darker landscapes, no less beautiful, but certainly eerie nightscapes. The shadows in the room lengthened. The air seemed to become thicker, and the young man woke up.

"Is it that time already?" he murmured to himself. He looked at his watch, a series of numbers appearing in mid-air, confusing to anyone not used to such a device. He laughed softly. "Happy birthday to me," he said quietly, more to hear the sound of his own voice than anything else. He quickly started donning a figure-hugging bodysuit of Basilisk hide. "They think I'm fifteen out there, and not the seventeen I am now. Thank Merlin for the Shadow Gift of Body. At least Hermione and Luna can bluff it out, call themselves early bloomers. Whereas the old goat might get suspicious if I grow too quickly. Can't have the weapon getting too strong."

The shadows in the room seemed to ripple and warp, before disgorging a pair of teenaged girls wearing Basilisk-hide suits. They weren't wearing the masks: they didn't need to. The dark-coloured suits clung to their figures in distracting ways. But that was okay: they were his girlfriends.

One had bushy brown hair and a demeanour that was usually somewhat strident and bossy. Now, instead, she was confident and collected. Considering that she was the junior member of this group in terms of membership time, that was saying something.

The other had a more ethereal air, with blonde hair and protuberant eyes. She all but skipped into the room. She had a rather strange smile that on some might be considered vapid. On her, it looked vaguely unnerving, as if she knew a joke that you were the butt of.

"Happy birthday, Harry," the two girls chorused, with the bushy-haired one looking askance at the blonde one briefly.

"Thanks, both of you," Harry Potter said. "So, what have you two got in store for me?"

"It's a surprise," the blonde girl cooed. "Anyway, it's my birthday too, at least when you count time in the Shadow Demesne. I'm now 16, and you're both 17. So, I let Hermione think of the destination as a surprise."

The bushy-haired girl nodded. "I think we'll all like it. I don't know whether it'll have much…but it's the principle of the thing. And afterwards…well…" She blushed slightly. "We'll be doing what we've been waiting for."

Harry grinned in anticipation. He then clasped the hands of his girlfriends, and soon-to-be-lovers, in his own. Luna Lovegood. Hermione Granger. And Harry Potter. Partners in crime. "Well then…shall we?"

* * *

Luna clapped her hands together as they emerged from the shadows at their destination. "Oh, Hermione, you take us to all the best places!" she cooed.

Harry grimaced. "It's a dump. What is this place?" he asked, looking around the rather grim neighbourhood of a semi-abandoned of a northern mill town. The night seemed to be picked out in shades of grey, like the monochrome of a black and white film.

"Spinner's End in Cokeworth," Hermione said. "Your mother was born here. Remember what I told you about how she met Snape? How I stole his memories?"

"With your Gift of Mind, yes," Harry said. "You didn't tell me where, that's all." He blinked when he realised it, and a large smile split his features. "Oh…are we near Snape's house?"

"Of course. We're right near the door," Hermione said, indicating one brick house. "He's out tonight, on Voldemort's orders. I took that from him."

"Where you were staying? You haven't told me that yet," Harry said. "I was a bit annoyed at the lack of response from you, actually."

"That's because I didn't want Dumbledore or Snape to get any clue to what I was doing," Hermione said. "We'll talk inside." With that, she slipped through the door, like a ghost, Harry and Luna following suit.

While rather dingy, Harry and his girlfriends whistled appreciatively at the various bookshelves lining the wall, with a lot of books. "These are wasted on him," Hermione said with a scowl. "I guess I know what that prick spends his money on. Books and potions ingredients."

"Would it kill him to buy shampoo?" Harry asked.

"The Oleaginous Skullworms growing from his scalp would die, and poison his brain until he was left a vegetable," Luna said.

"…If that was true, no big loss," Harry said darkly. "Do you think he has a potions lab we can raid? I think we'll need more of the ingredients for you know what."

"It's probably in the basement," Hermione said. "Anyway, let's start packing. I'll tell you as we go."

Harry, Luna and Hermione began pulling books from the shelves, and throwing them carelessly (at least Harry and Luna did) into the air, dark portals swallowing them. "I can't say where we're based," Hermione said. "It's under the Fidelius. But the old wether told us not to contact you, claiming we needed to give you space, to allow you to mourn Cedric. Given what I know, that's bollocks."

Harry nodded, turning around briefly to gaze at his girlfriend's derrieres, clad in Basilisk hide, and think to himself, _I'm a very lucky guy_. "Okay. So you didn't contact me to keep up appearances?"

"Partly, and also because I wanted to learn as much as I could before I told you. In any case, what we didn't tell you would have pissed you off anyway. Fudge's started a smear campaign against you. Apparently he's afraid of Dumbledore usurping him, but Dumbledore doesn't need to be Minister to get his way. Anyway, Dumbledore's going senile, and you're an attention-seeking deluded teenager, according to _The Daily Prophet_."

"Well, they got the teenager part right," Luna sniffed, turning around briefly to stare at her boyfriend's Basilisk hide-clad rear in appreciation. "For the _Prophet_ , that is unprecedented levels of accuracy. Though they got the age wrong, through no fault of their own, for once. Incidentally, I don't think we can risk selling much of this stuff to Borgin. Snape's a customer of his, he might recognise it."

"We agreed on that anyway. Don't sell the Death Eater stuff to Borgin unless we're sure he won't recognise it," Harry said. "I'm not happy you didn't tell me as soon as you could via Shadow-Walk, Hermione, but at least you're telling me now. Anything else?"

"Only that an upcoming raid will have to be on the Department of Mysteries. I swiped Dumbledore's memory that he reckons Voldemort is after the prophecy. We'll have to destroy it, make it seem like a Death Eater tried to pinch it."

"Is that before or after the Gringotts raid?"

"After. We need to cripple anyone who is funding Voldemort," Hermione said. "Therefore, we go on a raid of the vault of every Death Eater we can list. We'll also have to make sure we're on the lookout for any soul fragments like the one you pulled out of Harry, Luna, or the one we found in the Diadem."

* * *

A few minutes later, they had emptied the shelf of books, and set off to explore the rest of the house, which still seemed strangely monochromatic. Then again, that was the default look of the Shadow Demesne, the realm through which they travelled, and through which they seemed to be the only things with motion or colour.

The Shadow Demesne, a realm somewhere in the interstices of time. Where walls and doors could be passed through at will, to those with the ability to be Shadow-Walkers. Thieves of myth, thought long-since extinct. Only a few obscure tomes mentioned their existence in the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts library.

All Shadow-Walkers had the ability to enter the Shadow Demesne, where time stood still…or could be allowed to flow normally while the Shadow-Walkers watched from the shadows. The perfect spies and thieves…which was why a pogrom was launched against them centuries ago, in part helped by the Goblins of Gringotts, who feared the Shadow-Walkers' ability to bypass any ward they could set up to rob their vaults.

The only reason why Harry, and by extension, Hermione, knew any of this was that Luna's mother was the last of the surviving Shadow-Walker line. Harry and Hermione had gotten it through a few relations of Shadow-Walker lines in their ancestry, and the genes just reactivated in them.

Each Shadow-Walker had a unique ability, a Shadow Gift. Harry had the Gift of Body, a sort of super-Metamorphagus ability that allowed him to imitate virtually anyone he saw. Hermione had the Gift of Mind, allowing her to take secrets from someone's head, even those protected by Occlumency, or even implant false memories, making Memory Charms and Legilimency look tame by comparison. Not to mention enhancing her already near-eidetic memory to ridiculous levels, and she could get information she wanted from books or computers just by willing it. And Luna had the Gift of Soul, allowing her to move souls, making her handy for dealing with soul fragments, or for interrogating the dead for information.

When they finally teamed up, it meant they were a quite well-suited group…but that's a story for another time.

Harry searched through Snape's bedroom, not caring about the wards. He did find a photo album filled with pictures of his mother, which he was tempted to steal…until he noticed, to his disgust, that much of the last quarter or so of pages included rather creepy photos of his mother naked or undressing, presumably taken covertly. He tore out those pages to burn, and decided to keep the album anyway. A diary was soon taken, as was a safe.

* * *

Harry and Luna soon joined Hermione in the basement, and found her in a potions lab, albeit one she had mostly cleared out. "Now, before Snape left, I implanted a memory that he had left a certain potion in a stasis charm," she said as she mixed up a potion in a cauldron. "Said potion is highly volatile and, if it becomes unstable…"

"It goes 'kablooey'?" Luna asked hopefully.

"More 'fwoosh', actually," Hermione said. "It's the base for Dumbledore's special Lemon Sherbets, which are laced with Calming Draughts, Liquid Luck keyed only to Dumbledore himself, and it helps soothes his piles. But when being cooked, it's so unstable, it's like Fiendfyre waiting to happen. Contained Fiendfyre, enough to destroy this house and melt down the bricks, without affecting anyone else. But still dangerous."

"So, you're leaving it unstable while we're still in the Shadow Demesne?" Harry asked.

"Yes. It'll explode five to ten minutes after we leave…well, in normal time. We're going to be staying in the Shadow Demesne for a couple of days our time, aren't we?"

"Well, yes," Luna said. "Depends on many things, like how long the cake lasts, how long it takes Harry to unwrap his presents, how long his stamina lasts…"

"I have potions ready for that," Hermione said. "Fatigue potions, stamina potions, contraceptive potions…just about everything it's safe to take together. Sirius is jealous, Harry. He complained to me that he'd never got a threesome, and yet, your first time will be one."

Harry snorted. "Let him be jealous. At least it's an achievement I managed on my own, instead of this Boy Who Lived shit. By the way, has he heard anything from Madam Bones about the memories we sent?"

"Yes. Sadly, public sentiment is such that, the moment he sets foot in the Ministry, Fudge will set the Dementors on him, evidence or not. We need Pettigrew for Bones to even have a chance of ordering a retrial. And while we can move through the shadows instantly to any place we can remember…or in my case, that someone else does…we still need to find Pettigrew first. Snape hasn't seen him yet."

"Bugger," Harry muttered.

Hermione finished mixing up the potion, and nodded. "Okay, done. Let's go home."

Harry dropped the pages of photos near the cauldron, ready to be annihilated. With that, the three disappeared into the shadows once more.

* * *

Approximately 4 minutes later (Hermione would later kick herself for her mistake), in real time, Professor Severus Snape's house erupted in a pillar of flame. Nothing on the inside of the house would survive, though thankfully, the only damage done to nearby houses were a few broken windows. Of course, before even a fraction of a second of those four minutes was up, Harry, Hermione and Luna had a birthday party, a fun time in bed, read some of the books they had just stolen, sorted their loot into varying categories, and then had some more fun time, before drifting off to sleep, with even sleep not turning off their power.

Such were the life and times of those who could live in the shadows between the tick and the tock…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, there you have it. Now, before you ask, the Shadow Demesne was not inspired by the Shadow Realm from** ** _Yu-Gi-Oh!_** **(which some of my readers will feel, given the heavy thievery themes, would be a wasted opportunity, but I wanted to do things my way). Instead, it was heavily inspired by the Spectral Realm from the** ** _Legacy of Kain_** **games, particularly the** ** _Soul Reaver_** **games and** ** _Defiance_** **. For those unfamiliar with those games, the character of Raziel has the ability to shift between physical and spectral realms (each with their own different physical properties) in order to bypass certain areas. Time stands still in the Spectral Realm in the game, at least as far as the physical world is concerned, and I thought, why not have that as an ability of a thief Harry? I even think of the same, eerie sound effect used for shifting between realms in the latter two games, as well as for shifting through barred gates, for whenever Harry and company shift into and out of the Shadow Demesne.**

 **I was also partly inspired by the powers Death has in the Discworld series, powers his son-in-law Mort and his granddaughter Susan share. They can also exist in the spaces between the ticks of the clock.**

 **We'll look into their history and their abilities in more detail in the next chapter.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	59. Just a Touch of Kleptomania Chapter 2

_**JUST A TOUCH OF KLEPTOMANIA**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **A HISTORY OF KLEPTOMANIA**

On a bed, in a room isolated from normal time and space, a small island adrift in the interstices of time, a trio of figures slumbered, naked, entangled with each other. They slept soundly, not plagued by nightmares of past, present and future. The events of the previous few days in the otherwise timeless nature of the Shadow Demesne had merely been the capstone to a relationship already years in the making.

All had grown up in varying degrees of isolation. Harry Potter had been isolated by his relatives. Hermione Granger was isolated by her intelligence and precocious nature. Luna Lovegood was isolated by her more fantasist leanings.

It was Hermione who discovered her abilities first, though she was yet to awaken them fully. She could read books even as she touched the pages, though she never really noticed that she never fully read with her eyes. She just thought she was speed-reading. And the Shadow Demesne scared her when she originally tried it, so she never used it again, marking the monochromatic landscape as a bad dream. She would only later learn that her Gift of Mind could take memories, either copies…or else stealing the memories proper, as well as inserting new ones.

Harry discovered his own not long thereafter. After being locked in his cupboard for what felt like the nth time, he wished to be out more than anything else. And soon, he realised he could, being able to slip through shadows, as if they were doors to other places. He soon discovered the properties of this world, how he could use the shadows to go places where he had been, or to even move more quickly between places he hadn't been. He found time froze in that mysterious monochrome world, save for what he picked up. He could even make time start up again, and as long as he was in the shadows, he was completely hidden.

He soon learned to use that to his advantage. Stealing food from the Dursleys' fridge was a bad idea: if one thing was out of place in their reckoning, Harry was swiftly punished. But he went to the neighbours and started eating their food. Not glutting himself, obviously. Just pieces here and there.

As Douglas Adams observed, civilisation goes through three stages, stages that can apply to the state of someone discovering a new ability: Survival, Inquiry, and Sophistication, or the How, Why, and Where stages. Adams used it to denote food (How can we eat? Why do we eat? Where shall we have lunch?). Harry used it for his abilities. How can I do this? Why can I do this? Where shall I steal from next?

Thankfully, Shadow-Walkers could open up dimensional pockets with their powers that they could put what they stole into, and by the time Harry got his Hogwarts letter, he had stolen enough from the Dursleys, along with the residents of Little Whinging, to fill a house. But when he learned of his parents, of his fame in Magical Britain…and the fact that they had left him to suffer at the Dursleys, well, he was mildly annoyed, to say the least. Oh, he felt vindicated that the Dursleys were full of shit, and Hagrid was nice, but Harry soon learned that Magical Britain wasn't all that it was cracked up to be.

He made further sojourns into Diagon Alley by himself after Hagrid took him there. Having not managed to find a fence yet in the mundane world, he soon found a willing fence in Borgin of Borgin and Burke's down in Knockturn. Borgin actually bought Muggle paraphernalia such as VCRs and the like, as there was a small black market for those who liked to tinker with such things, for purposes ranging from mere curiosity (like Arthur Weasley, who had actually bought a Walkman Harry had fenced in Knockturn, though not at Borgin and Burke's) to Muggle-baiting (Harry was annoyed to learn that Lucius Malfoy had enchanted a statuette to turn into a homicidal creature that he sent to the Creevys as a gift, one that was thankfully intercepted by the Aurors). He also took the opportunity to rob some of the stores there, mostly for information on Magical Britain one was unlikely to get from the books at Flourish and Blotts.

It was during one of those sojourns that he encountered Luna Lovegood for the first time. While he was in the Shadow Demesne, she had popped up out of the shadows herself, the first person he had seen moving while he was in it. He was understandably startled, and it took some doing by Luna to convince him that she was not going to give him up.

Although it would be another year before Luna went to Hogwarts, the two still became fast friends, and indeed, once Luna took Harry to her home at the Rookery, Harry visited when he could. Luna was his first friend (Hagrid, for all his friendliness, wouldn't become Harry's friend properly until Hogwarts). And Xenophilus Lovegood was the father he never had.

Through them, he learned the truth about his abilities, both normal magic, and Shadow-Walking. Through them, he learned some disturbing stories about the man considered the Leader of the Light, Albus Dumbledore. Through Luna, she removed the soul fragment in his scar. Although he stayed at the Dursleys as a matter of course, on Luna's advice, he had brought a luxury trunk, one that was practically a TARDIS-sized mansion on the inside. He now used that to store his loot, and sleep in. Another thing he bought on Luna's advice was a wizard's watch, one that could tell the time, as well as the full biological age of the person wearing it, useful, given how time stopped outside of the Shadow Demesne when he was in it. Although just over eleven by normal reckoning, his body was already six months older.

The first year of Hogwarts was both entertaining and annoying. He'd made a few friends, a few enemies, and had managed to steal the Philosopher's Stone. He had to claim to Dumbledore that it had been destroyed by accidental magic, which he had bought. He got his father's Invisibility Cloak back, but Shadow-Walking tended to be better. He used the two in conjunction.

The second year was also entertaining and annoying, what with Lockhart being useless, a Basilisk petrifying students, a House Elf trying to injure him, and an evil diary that turned out to have the soul of Voldemort. Upon finding it in a toilet, and interrogating it, he found something laughable about Hagrid being the one to open the Chamber of Secrets, and his suspicions fell on Tom Riddle. On a hunch, he investigated the toilet that the diary had been discarded in, only to Shadow-Walk right into the Chamber of Secrets itself. There, he encountered the infamous monster of Slytherin, a Basilisk named Medusa. Which was kind of fitting: contrary to the most famous legend of the Chamber of Secrets, Slytherin had left the Basilisk behind as a guardian of Hogwarts against Muggles, rather than as a weapon against Muggleborns, and the name Medusa meant guardian.

Tom Riddle had taken him into the diary once more, and tried to take Harry over. However, Harry used his ability to Shadow-Walk to escape the diary, though not before learning that Tom Marvolo Riddle was the birth name of Voldemort, and that Lucius Malfoy was the one who gave the diary, to Ginny Weasley. He had given the diary to Medusa to bite, and the Basilisk, wanting to be free of a master that did not embody the true traits of Slytherin, bit it.

Harry had to use his Shadow-Walk to get some livestock for the Basilisk to feed on (and getting cows and sheep to go through a dark portal in space was hard anyway), but he now had a loyal guardian. As it was, though inclined to be violent in her utterances, Medusa's main problem was boredom, and had missed the company of her first master, Salazar Slytherin. Having intelligent conversation was something she desired, and whenever he was at Hogwarts from then on, Harry made it a point to visit her as often, with his visits making her less violent in language and intent. The Basilisk was flattered to be allowed to guard some valuable treasures. She thought it made her like a dragon, and thought some of the gold and jewellery actually livened up the place. Her shed skin was also used to create Harry, Luna and Hermione's thieving uniforms, once they became a unit.

The rest of the second year wasn't really that eventful, though he and Luna had meetings in the Shadow Demesne. They decided together to rob Lucius Malfoy blind for what he did, or at least stole some of his more valuable items. And thanks to Luna's Gift of Soul, they were able to transfer Dobby's ownership to Harry, to which the House Elf was utterly overjoyed. The only truly eventful part of the year came when Hermione realised that Lockhart was a fraud, and tried to confront him. He had tried to Obliviate Hermione, only for Hermione to dodge the charm, and use her Gift of Mind to take all of Lockhart's memories, nearly leaving him a drooling vegetable. They didn't learn this until Hermione admitted it next year, as it was covered up as Lockhart accidentally Obliviating himself. Hermione had started using Shadow-Walking to get to classes as well.

Aside from the so-called Golden Trio, Harry had made other friends. Admittedly, most of them were in Gryffindor, like Neville and Ginny, not to mention the Twins, but he had Luna in Ravenclaw, Daphne Greengrass and Blaise Zabini in Slytherin, and Susan Bones in Hufflepuff. Admittedly, of those friends, only Luna and the Twins knew of his abilities (the Twins were envious of his abilities, but as he was agreeable to pranking Slytherins while stealing from the more obnoxious ones, they were willing to stay schtum about it), and the two Slytherins were potential targets on his theft list if they pissed him off. Hermione wouldn't learn about his abilities, and her own, until their third year.

Ah yes, third year. The year the Dementors came to Hogwarts. Harry had learned what the adults were keeping from him by using Shadow-Walking, and listening while concealed from the shadows. He learned of Sirius Black being his godfather, and the so-called betrayer of the Potters, very early on. But while pissed, he also tried to research what had happened, and began to wonder about a few things.

He also encountered Hermione in the Shadow Demesne for the first time. She had used her Time Turner, but had not gone far enough back in time to get to class on time, and she bumped into him while using the Shadow Demesne to get to Muggle Studies. She had been shocked to find him in the same place as she was, and eventually, the two got to talking about it. Harry, Luna, and Hermione began talking about their abilities. Hermione had been a little shocked to hear that Harry was something of a thief, though this was ameliorated a little by his confession of his home life. And when she learned he was planning to take the Death Eaters to the cleaners, she was a bit more ameliorated.

Unfortunately, they didn't learn the truth about Pettigrew until it was too late, and thanks to Snape, Remus Lupin in full werewolf mode, and a fuckton of Dementors, Pettigrew escaped (despite Harry's attempts to track him down when he and Hermione had used the Time Turner), Sirius was forced to go on the run, and Remus was outed as a werewolf by a spiteful Snape.

That being said, Harry let Sirius stay in his trunk for a time, and the two managed to bond. He could take living things through the Shadow Demesne without harm should he be in contact with them, and he used it to help him get far enough away to flee the country.

And then, there was Harry's fourth year. The less said about that, the better. Having Ron turn on him out of jealousy was not fun, and even after he came back after the First Task, their friendship was distant. Still, Harry got to take Luna to the Yule Ball, and he managed to avoid outing his abilities during the Tri-Wizard Tournament, especially with that bitch Skeeter buzzing around. Then again, it would have been a moot point, as Hermione left her partially amnesic in Hogsmeade, with a letter threatening to expose her Animagus form if she spied on them again.

And, of course, the fiasco of the Third Task. Of Cedric dying, despite Harry's attempts to save him. Of a resurrected Voldemort fighting him, Harry using his Shadow-Walk to get back to the Portkey with Cedric's body. He was lucky Voldemort hadn't seen him use it, or at least he was sure Voldemort hadn't seen it. Otherwise, there would have been an immediate nationwide manhunt for Harry without Voldemort even needing to take over the Ministry. But given what Hermione had told him, it wasn't going to be much better any time soon…

* * *

Harry had had some good ways and bad ways to wake up of a morning, but waking up in the arms of two wonderful girls had already made it to number one. Not only that, but it was, along with what happened last night, going to be his next Patronus memory. Oh, he was a bit sore, he was sure Hermione and Luna were the same, and if it weren't for their potions, they'd be a lot sorer. Not for the first time, he was glad they stayed in the Shadow Demesne even when asleep. It was only if you wanted to consciously leave that you could, and time in what was laughably called reality (Luna's way of thinking was infectious) started again. A near-perfect bolthole. Which made him wonder how exactly the Shadow-Walkers died out, at least until he remembered what Luna told him. Most died in their arrogance, which seemed to be endemic in Magical Britain, even amongst the Shadow-Walkers. A few just went into hiding and bred in.

Hermione and Luna stirred. "Ain't abusing a time freeze ability the Ministry and Gringotts label as Dark for fun and profit grand?" Luna murmured.

"And we've made it last within the first second of your birthday, Harry," Hermione purred.

"Please don't say that to Padfoot," Harry said. "He'll make jokes about me being too fast. He's already making jokes about our outfits being kinky."

"Figure-hugging catsuits showing off our figures? I can see where he's coming from," Hermione said. "I'd ask if you enjoyed your birthday present, but I think we know the answer."

"Indeed. The Wrackspurts seem conspicuous by their absence," Luna said with a grin. "By the way, I've got an idea for our next fun night. Gillyweed and the Prefect Bathroom."

"We'll keep that under consideration," Harry said. "So, ladies, shall we continue our evil plot to stick it sideways to those who deserve it?"

The affirmations were all he needed to hear. Ah, life was good when one played to no rules but one's own…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, there you have it. Some of the histories of Harry, Luna, and Hermione in this story.**

 **It's worth pointing out that there won't be any lemons. Yes, Harry, Luna and Hermione will be having sex, but I don't trust my ability to write a good sex scene. At best, I'll have a jump cut to Harry et al in mid-coitus for humorous purposes when someone else is speculating what they are doing. I did it once in** ** _Yin and Yang_** **.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	60. Renaissance of the Renegades Chapter 1

**I have never jumped on the Harry Potter/ _Doctor Who_ crossover bandwagon before, simply because I'm not sure how the series are compatible. Harry Potter is fantasy, while _Doctor Who_ , while very soft science fiction, is still science fiction. But that changed in a moment of inspiration.**

 **You see, I wanted to do a Harry Potter as a Dark Lord fic, as well as a Harmony fic. I had a flick through DZ2's challenges, having been inspired to do a couple before. I considered doing a mish-mash of their _Revenge of the Half-Blood Prince_ and _The Wrong Victim_ Challenges, with a touch of the prompt challenge _Writing on the Wall_. But something was lacking, an extra impetus for Harry to become a Dark Lord. And then, I thought of a very Dark Lord-like character, at least in terms of appearance and megalomania, in _Doctor Who_. A Time Lord, and no, it is NOT the Master. Fans of the classic series should be delighted at the criminally-underutilised Time Lord villains I have reincarnated as Harry and Hermione. Whether this story has legs, I don't know, but it certainly seems promising. Not to mention having an insane pairing on the Whoniverse side...and who are those? Wait and see...**

* * *

 _ **RENAISSANCE OF THE RENEGADES**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **REBORN**

It was a veritable city of tents. Not one for those without homes to go to. No, this tent city was, theoretically, for a more joyous occasion. No, it was for a sport. A most unusual sport called Quidditch, played on flying broomsticks. The tents themselves seemed to sport unusual features like chimneys that had no place there, but what did you expect from wizards.

The vast majority of these tents were bigger on the inside than the outside, being easily the size of small houses within. But there was one here that was certainly more than a mere wizarding tent. Oh, it looked normal: more normal than many of the tents here. It was a wedge of khaki canvas that wouldn't have looked out of place on a normal campground.

A bushy-haired girl, appearing to be in her late teens, looked around furtively, before entering the tent. For a brief moment, there seemed to be a confusion in what she walked through: a second set of tent flaps changed into large doors with circular indentations, which opened inwards with a distinctive whir, revealing a brightly-lit control room, one that could not have possibly fit into the tent.

The walls were decorated with circular panels dubbed roundels, though the girl knew that they were actually maintenance panels that could be opened up and tinkered with. A large television screen was set into one wall. Dominating the room was a large central console, like a hexagonal mushroom with a sextet of control panels. In the middle of the console was a transparent cylinder, containing a complex, crystalline structure that put the girl in mind of a wedding cake, given the tiers of the structure.

The girl frowned, wondering where the people she came to see were. She soon got her answer. Through the doors leading elsewhere into this place, she heard voices approaching. "…And the Pythia's Curse be upon him(1)! Damned meddling old fool!"

"I'll never get used to you saying things like that, Pup."

The door to the rest of the ship opened up. First came through a man in his thirties, still a little haggard after the last time she saw him, but looking better and more sane. Dark-haired, grey-eyed, with a beard that was now neat.

The other was a boy about her age, perhaps sixteen or seventeen, with a messy mop of black hair and piercing green eyes that seemed to almost glow. He was dressed in coveralls that were now covered in grease and other materials. He noticed the girl, and nodded. "Hello, Ushas," he said. "How was observing these fools?"

"Informative, if depressing, Peylix," the girl responded in a cool tone. "The Weasley dullards are wondering where you are."

"They can wonder all they like. I am not who they believe me to be in more ways than one, and if they had a single iota of who I truly am…Ron already distanced himself during that incident with the Chamber. A good thing I erased Ginny's memories, and removed that damnable obsession with me. Though it was more fun to deal with that acephalous imbecilic peacock Lockhart. Giving him over to you to experiment upon was a joy."

"Not for me," the girl named Ushas stated. "I got more from experimenting on Remus, and I left him alive and intact afterwards. He told me that his inner wolf is calmer now. Then again, I believe my threat to separate it from Remus and vivisect it helped."

Peylix laughed. "Ah, a woman after my own heart. Well, hearts, now that you've given me a proper Time Lord body. I can see the appeal, really. Two hearts, respiratory bypass, regeneration…plus improvements. No aspirin allergy(2), for one thing, even if I prefer paracetamol. Ah, if only Razz can see me now."

Ushas sniffed quietly. "As much as I am sure you'd like to reminisce on old times, I came here for a reason other than socialising with two of the few sane members of Magical Britain."

"That's a shame," the man said. "Anyway, why can't you keep addressing each other as Harry and Hermione while I'm here? Those Gallifreyan names are…weird."

"This coming from a man who was born to a family who named their children after stars. Sirius Black, anyone?" Ushas, aka Hermione Granger, snapped irritably, though with a wry nature that, in her previous lives, wasn't there as much. "And who is part of a society with the strangest names. Severus Snape? Remus Lupin? At least my parents in this life were naming me from Shakespeare, even if it got me bullied."

"Hey, take it easy, Queen," Sirius said with a smirk, only to get a stinging hex for his troubles.

"Dog," Hermione snapped, albeit with a faint smirk. She then turned her gaze to Harry. "Have you discovered the problem yet?"

"No. Keep in mind that I am trying to recreate a TARDIS from scratch, and from relatively primitive technology and materials. Hedin provided me with an old one when I based myself in Amsterdam, but I never got around to examining all the improvements made on the time machines I was creating. Another factor is that, aside from us, the Time Lords do not exist in this universe. That may explain why this TARDIS can go anywhere in space, but in terms of time, can only move relatively slowly. Oh, we can time travel, but not as well as a standard TARDIS. Even Daleks could probably travel better through time."

Hermione sniffed. "Better than nothing, I suppose, and we don't need the time travel capability at this moment. I believe I'm beginning to see what little charm the Doctor saw in this planet."

"I saw it in Amsterdam," Harry said. "One of the first things I saw when I got a copy of his body was a calliope. A primitive entertainment device, and yet…it was something that was the first to tell me for a long time that I had a soul left to be stirred. I enjoyed our trip there, actually."

"You enjoyed it partly because we succumbed to our carnal impulses," Hermione pointed out. "I generally do not indulge in pleasures of the flesh, but I have to admit, I did enjoy that. But I still hate having to use primitive personal Chameleon technology to make us look our ages, in terms of birth certificates, amongst these Lotophagous(3) primitives. Their indolence is almost on a par with our former people, Peylix. They're almost as bad as the Lakertyans(4). At least most of the mundanes have some sort of drive, especially for a Level 5 planet."

Sirius scowled, albeit a mock scowl. "I resemble that remark!"

After a moment, Harry looked up at Hermione, and said, "You know, Ushas, I believe I know why we keep him around."

"Because he's a barely housetrained pet?" Hermione asked.

"Hey!" yelped Sirius.

"No, because he's like the Doctor, only without that weary moralising," Harry said.

Hermione shrugged. "True. Though the Doctor is at least barely tolerable company. If we ever meet a reincarnation of the Master, I will be introducing him to the joys of genital trauma via repeated blows with the knee."

"Rather unscientific, Ushas," Harry observed.

"True, but I did it before(5). It was immensely satisfying, and as you are well aware, being a scientist yourself, any experiment bears repeating. To whit: does kneeing the Master repeatedly in the groin give me pleasure? I will have to content myself with the next Death Eater we capture. A shame we didn't get to catch Pettigrew. I would have enjoyed vivisecting him."

Sirius blinked, before he said, "I've said it before, I'll say it again: you have a very unhealthy obsession with cutting people open."

"I believe Borusa was the first to say that to me," Hermione said archly. "And I told him that, as he was my mathematics and mental protection tutor, he had no call to lecture me about biology. The last I heard from that fool the Master, he had gotten himself frozen in the Tomb of Rassilon. Then again, he was already a petrified relic, being turned to stone would not have made much difference(6)." She pursed her lips as she walked over to the central console. "A shame we cannot travel back in time efficiently. I would have liked to procure a T-Rex embryo again to experiment on."

"And I want to be able to get the damned rat," Sirius scowled.

"As we have explained to you before, Padfoot, we cannot do so once we have experienced the events. We were stretching things using that Time Turner during your escape, and we tried to find him then. Unfortunately, Time Lords experiencing time does fix the causal nexus to a degree. That also includes meddling with my family before my rebirth," Harry said. He stripped the coveralls off to reveal a slender but athletic form, clad in what looked like an Edwardian-style cricketing outfit. The shirt's lapels had a pair of symbols that looked vaguely like a curvy W, like so: ω.

"You still affect the dress of your foe?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow.

Harry smirked. "I look no less eccentric than anyone else here. I'm sure that if any incarnation of the Doctor walked through this place, nobody would bat an eye."

"Hmm. That's true. Even the Doctor's sixth incarnation. Only Dumbledore dresses worse than he does," Hermione mused.

"True. But you're one to talk, Miss Leather Trousers and Shiny Jacket(7)," Harry said with a smile. "I mean, don't get me wrong, you look great in those, but even so…"

"Enough of the fripperies," Hermione said. "The Weasleys are impatient to see you. They thought it odd that you weren't at the Dursleys."

"I told them that was the case," Harry said. "As for the Dursleys…well, I'm sure you can do with more specimens for research."

Hermione smirked, rather scarily. "You know me so well, Peylix. Are they in storage here?"

"Yes, but be warned: they are naked in the stasis tanks, and it may give you at least two regenerations' worth of nightmares."

Hermione snorted. "My human parents are medical professionals. My father is a forensic odontologist, and my mother is one of the best oral and maxillofacial surgeon in the United Kingdom. I have read medical texts since I was five. And even back on Gallifrey, I had an interest in biology. They may be repulsive, but they won't stick in my mind as nightmare fuel. We'll leave that until after the game finishes. I want to have a leisurely time taking them apart."

Harry chuckled at her words. "If I didn't know any better, my dear Ushas, I would believe you to be an unrepentant sadist."

"I only take pleasure in the science," Hermione said. "That, and ensuring such…repulsive primitives do not harm you any longer. I swear, abusing you because you had an ability to manipulate artron energy in a way that these primitives consider to be magic. What petty fools these humans are."

"Present company excluded, I hope?" Sirius asked, only to receive a chilly stare from Hermione.

"Have you given him flea powder lately?" Hermione asked.

"No. He actually bathes when you ask him to," Harry said. He then turned to Sirius. "I've set up the camera I am wearing to be able to project the Quidditch game to the scanner screen." He pointed to the screen on the wall. "This way, you don't have to risk anyone seeing you, especially anyone who knows your Animagus form."

"Hey, I'll take it," Sirius said with a smile. "You take care, Pup, okay?"

"I will, but don't forget, Sirius, Hermione and I are technically older than you…by thousands of years between us," Harry said. "I hope you enjoy the game…"

* * *

Emerging from the tent, Harry and Hermione looked at each other. Harry proffered a crooked elbow. "May I do you the honour of escorting you, my _Rani?_ "

Hermione smiled, and took his arm. "I believe I will accept that, _Omega_."

And with that exchange, a pair of former renegades of Time Lord society strode through a city of tents, arm in arm. Unlikely lovers, but lovers all the same, united in a world of primitives, and a society of so-called mages so backward, they made the notoriously stagnant society of the Time Lords look progressive by comparison. They were colossi striding well above others. And Merlin help Magical Britain if someone truly pissed them off, for nobody else would…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Hoo boy. I never thought I would do this. And what a crazy pairing, huh? I mean, for those familiar with the classic series, people are thinking "** ** _WTF?! Did you just pair OMEGA and the RANI?!_** **" Then again, dudelove85's recently-started** ** _Doctor Who_** **crossover** ** _The Last President of Gallifrey_** **has Hermione turning out to be** ** _Romana_** **, of all people. Incidentally, I highly recommend that crossover.**

 **For those NOT familiar with the classic series, allow me to elucidate. I have taken two of the most criminally underutilised villains from** ** _Doctor Who_** **: namely Omega and the Rani. And I have reincarnated them as Harry and Hermione respectively. We'll learn more about their history in this world later. However, I will give a brief history of the two villains for those unfamiliar with them.**

 **Omega was one of Rassilon's partners in revolutionising Gallifrey, and was responsible for harnessing the power source that they needed for their time travel. In the process, Omega was sucked into a black hole, stranded in an anti-matter universe, believing he was abandoned by the Time Lords. Although the Doctor considered him a hero, Omega wanted to be more. He appeared in the TV stories** ** _The Three Doctors_** **and** ** _Arc of Infinity_** **, as well as the audio stories** ** _Omega_** **and** ** _Gallifrey: Intervention Earth_** **. As far as this story is concerned, all but the events of** ** _Gallifrey: Intervention Earth_** **are canonical. His true name, as revealed by** ** _Omega_** **, was Peylix, but Omega was an insulting nickname relating to a failing grade spitefully given to him by a teacher who believed his theories were insane.**

 **The Rani was one of the Doctor's contemporaries at the Academy on Gallifrey. Brilliant, particularly in biology, the Rani was also utterly amoral, and was exiled from Gallifrey after an incident involving the President's cat and mutated mice. She views everything as secondary to her research, and will gladly take over entire worlds to have the populace act as her specimens. She appeared in the TV stories** ** _The Mark of the Rani_** **and** ** _Time and the Rani_** **, as well as the audio stories** ** _The Rani Elite_** **and** ** _Planet of the Rani_** **. Oh, and she appeared in the novels (which aren't considered canon for this story)** ** _Divided Loyalties_** **(as Ushas, her student self) and** ** _State of Change_** **. Given that she is called Ushas in the audio** ** _The Rani Elite_** **, a name originally given to her in** ** _Divided Loyalties_** **, that is her canon real name here.**

 **Why these two? Well, Omega is a bit Dark Lordy (especially how he looks in** ** _The Three Doctors_** **), and at times, he is rather sympathetic, so I thought it'd be interesting to have Harry as Omega's reincarnation. I nearly had Hermione as the reincarnation of Sentia from** ** _Omega_** **, but I eventually decided to use another Time Lord instead, especially given how Omega treats Sentia in the later stages of the story. Sentia was too much of a fangirl, anyway, Ginny Weasley-style. I thought the Rani suited Hermione being somewhat Ravenclaw-like. Of course, regeneration being what it is, while Hermione is still very much amoral as the Rani, she at least has a sense of humour, and loves Harry/Omega, after her own fashion.**

 **1\. The Pythia was the head of a powerful religious movement dominating early Gallifrey in the novels, and Rassilon overthrew her. While not all of the novels are canon IMO, I wanted to add this little touch.**

 **2\. In** ** _The Mind of Evil_** **, the Doctor claims an aspirin can kill him.**

 **3\. Meaning 'lotus eater-like', or indolent.**

 **4\. A reptilian race enslaved by the Rani in** ** _Time and the Rani_** **.**

 **5\. In** ** _Mark of the Rani_** **. Let's just say he tried to molest the bumps of her TARDIS' console.**

 **6\. The Master was referring to the events of** ** _The Five Doctors_** **. It's possible he witnessed them, as he was tied up on the floor at the time, though whether he was unconscious seems to be debatable.**

 **7\. What the Rani wears during the latter half of** ** _Mark of the Rani_** **. Most of the time, she's wearing ragged clothes to disguise herself as the owner of a washhouse in a coal mining town.**


	61. Renaissance of the Renegades Chapter 2

**I very nearly didn't write a second chapter to _Renaissance of the Renegades_. My initial enthusiasm for the idea petered out, in favour of a pure Harry Potter fic that had a Dark Lord Harry. I will probably post the initial chapter to that later, but I thought, given that some people enjoyed the first chapter of _Renaissance of the Renegades_ , that they would enjoy a second. So, here it is. Hopefully, I can continue this story as a full story.**

 **Incidentally, I was surprised that a couple of the reviewers were familiar with the characters in question. Hopefully, I do you guys proud...**

* * *

 _ **RENAISSANCE OF THE RENEGADES**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **HISTORY OF THE RENEGADES**

Neither Omega nor the Rani ever put much stock in superstition. Omega lived at a time when the Pythia ruled Gallifrey, before Rassilon's revolution overthrew her (and narrowly avoided a curse of sterility(1)), and the last remnants of her followers became the Sisterhood of Karn in exile. The Rani thought of science and logic as supreme, and focused on biology rather than metaphysics.

And yet, here they were, reincarnated on another world. In human bodies. The hows escaped them, and aggravated them, but they were not averse to taking advantage of the situation to begin anew. Both, after all, were infamous renegades back where they came from, both adversaries of the most infamous renegade of them all, the Doctor, whom the Rani knew at the Academy under his nickname of Theta Sigma or 'Thete', as Drax used to say.

They had both ended up in the same black hole, in the Sector of Forgotten Souls, the very one Omega created in the first place. The Rani's TARDIS had been sabotaged by one of the many aliens she had as minions and experimental subjects. It wasn't the first time it had happened: the Doctor had sabotaged her TARDIS during that incident involving the Master, and the Tetraps hijacked the TARDIS after her plans on Lakertya failed. But those times, she managed to get out of it. This time, though…she didn't. As the TARDIS plummeted into the black hole, out of control, the Rani's last thoughts were of being torn apart. Her end, ironically enough, was witnessed by tourists on the Jolly Chronolidays tourist centre nearby, based on a replica of Omega's legendary ship, the _Eurydice_. She had cursed her own end, even as she was torn apart, and would have done anything for a second chance.

Mere months later, a deranged Omega, in a copy of the body of the Doctor and believing himself to BE the Doctor, ended up at that very site. A series of events happened, ending with Omega falling into the black hole once more, seeing Sentia, the woman who wanted to be his wife, torn apart by the gravitational forces(2). In his sorrow and fury and madness, he allowed his will to be scattered by the forces within the singularity. Before he died, he only wished that he could find happiness in another life, and with another, one who could at least approach his intelligence. One who could appreciate it, complement it, and in a world without the Doctor or the meddling Time Lords. Omega, once known as Peylix, just wanted a life to lead.

And the singularity, the force he once harnessed for god-like power, granted him that wish. And that of the Rani.

Harry didn't regain his memories until a much later time, but he clashed with his relatives repeatedly, especially where academic brilliance was concerned. He eclipsed Dudley, and refused to back down when his relatives tried to force him to dumb himself down. Harry felt a need to prove himself.

So too did Hermione. She was distant from everyone, part of her evaluating everyone she met as potential test subjects and specimens. Few wanted to be her friend, save for the advantages it gave in getting homework done. But at the same time, part of her still yearned for friends, or at least a friend, an intelligent one who she could talk to on another level. Oh, she had her parents' love, something that she actually enjoyed in this life, even once she regained her memories.

That had happened in their second year, at the Deathday Party for Nearly-Headless Nick. Peeves, ever the prankster, had noticed something about them, and, knowing he would cause chaos, did something to them both that unlocked their memories. Harry had promptly collapsed, while Hermione left almost immediately, in shock, trying to reconcile her memories. Hence, she was petrified by the Basilisk, the first victim.

Once, the Rani had created special landmines that converted anyone who stepped on them into trees, effectively petrifying them alive. Now petrified herself, she had to wait for several months before she could be revived. Thankfully, she could put her consciousness into a trance to avoid going insane, though at other times, she went over her newfound memories, and began formulating ways to regain her Time Lord physiology. She also knew, having seen Harry's reaction, that he too was a Time Lord, due to a faint telepathic signature. But which one? She sincerely hoped it wasn't the Master, or indeed any of the small clique she belonged to at the Academy, called the Deca(3). It was something of a relief to learn that it was Omega, despite the fact that she had heard from her contacts on Gallifrey that Omega turned out to be a ranting madman.

But the Harry she knew was a more thoughtful person. Yes, a bit arrogant and opinionated, but as the 'Ravens within the Lion's Den' (they had argued with the Hat that Gryffindor's academic standards could do with raising, and the Hat eventually plumped for agreeing with them), they had a friendship stronger than Harry had with most of his other students, including Ron Weasley. Oh, they were friends for a given definition, but Harry and Hermione had the stronger bond.

After learning he was a Parselmouth, Harry, or rather, Omega soon found the Chamber, and intercepted Ginny, destroying the diary and removing her infatuation with him through a bit of psychic surgery. She became infinitely more tolerable company, though Omega actually preferred the company of her eccentric Ravenclaw friend, Luna Lovegood, who seemed to know more than she let on. Indeed, he and the Rani soon learned she had an interesting secret. He had also managed to bind the half-maddened Basilisk to him. Said Basilisk was now in a new, city-sized chamber within his TARDIS, with Omega buying livestock to feed it. And the Basilisk had never been happier.

Omega and the Rani, once the latter had been freed from her petrification (Omega, as Harry, had offered to pay for imported mandrakes, which Snape accepted), had a private discussion. They learned of who they really were, and accepted each other for it. They decided to embark on projects to bring back their Time Lord physiologies (well, the Rani's: Omega had vanished into the black hole before Rassilon began embarking on altering Time Lords through genetic engineering, but he wouldn't say no to having two hearts like he did when inhabiting a copy of the Doctor's body), as well as recreate a TARDIS. After choosing their subjects for their third year, they deliberately chose enough that Professor McGonagall would give them Time Turners, which they could also use to begin using as the base for their new TARDIS. The lack of sleep didn't bother them: Time Lords could function without sleep for far longer periods than humans with less side effects, and once they regained that physiology, that helped.

The Rani's project, recreating Time Lord physiology, was easy. The pair of them discovered that, when they re-awoke their Time Lord memories, they also gained a special, unique ability to their magic. Omega had the ability to shape and manipulate matter at a basic level, even convert it into antimatter, making it a powerful offensive weapon, as well as being able to create servants similar to the Gel Guards or the Ergon, though doing anything other than simple matter-antimatter conversion took an effort and a lot of energy, even with magic. He also had the ability to manipulate gravity to an extraordinary degree. The Rani, on the other hand, could vivisect her targets alive, and put them back together, with or without harming them in any way. She could also bring them under her control, like she used specially enhanced maggots to take control of certain people…something the Master took advantage of when he meddled in her plans to try and one-up the Doctor. The Rani managed to use a combination of that ability, along with a specially created vector virus, to transform them into Time Lords.

Of course, they had other distractions to deal with in that year: namely learning that Harry's godfather had escaped from Azkaban, the Minister in his infinite (or rather, infinitesimal) wisdom had posted Dementors around Hogwarts, and their DADA teacher was a werewolf. Although Hermione, as the freshly reborn Rani (well, by several months, but that was generally a short time to a Time Lord who could live for centuries if not millennia), merely saw Remus Lupin as a research opportunity.

During his attempts to create a TARDIS in the Chamber of Secrets, Omega actually created a time manipulation field similar to the Time Turners, only they sped up time within the field, and to help the pair of them learn more of the knowledge in this world, Omega and the Rani studied. Because they spent quite a while in the field, they began to age faster than they normally would. But this was fine: Time Lord childhood and adolescence was similar enough to human adolescence. Omega created something not unlike a TARDIS' Chameleon Circuit that would make them appear their normal ages. By the end of their third year, their bodies were now 17, when Hermione was meant to be 14, and Harry 13, coming up to his 14th birthday.

They eventually decided to drop Divination and Muggle Studies at the end of the year: the former was virtually useless, and the latter was, for the most part, out of date, with the most recent discussion of technology, at best, being radio and the car. The textbook itself dated from the 1930s, and was never updated since, despite the protests of the teacher, Charity Burbage, who was considerably more up to date: she at least knew of nuclear weapons and spaceflight, though electronics and computers were a little more tricky. But by then, the Time Turners had done their job, and Omega was able to fake breaking one of them in order to steal the sands within, which turned out to be a strange mixture of Taranium and Kontron crystals(4), which accounted for the rarity of the substance. But then again, both were not normally found on Earth, though what little literature there was on Time Turners suggested that the sand was created through alchemy.

Another alchemy of sorts was the growing relationship between them. What started as a purely platonic friendship and alliance began to grow into love. Omega never thought he would love again, as the last woman he did (admittedly an obsessive fangirl) got killed, and the Rani considered love to be a chemical imbalance. However, as their time together grew, so too did the realisation that they were growing in affection. While Omega had long since disappeared into the black hole when the Rani was born, she had never been one to hero-worship him (the Doctor had been an Omega fanboy, though, and the Rani later heard rumours that somehow, the Doctor had gained control over the famed stellar controller known as the Hand of Omega, and tricked Davros into destroying Skaro with it(5)). Considering that they were both by this point millennia old in terms of mental age, such age differences didn't exactly cut it.

What united them were a number of things: being opposed by the Doctor and having their plans thwarted by him; being scientists who were prodigies in their respective fields; a contempt for the dullards who comprised the masses; and an eagerness to start afresh. As they saw the inequities inherent in Magical Britain, and indeed in magical society the world over, they also began to get ambitious. And not long after they both reached the biological age of 16, they became lovers.

The first major rift between the pair and Ron happened when Harry, after losing his broom after an incident involving Dementors, was sent another one, the latest one. Hermione had taken it to McGonagall, worried that the anonymous broom had been cursed by an enemy, possibly Sirius Black. Even then, the pair had doubts about Sirius' guilt: the story seemed to have a few holes. But Ron believed that Hermione acted without caring about Harry's feelings, and while Omega did believe that the Rani did act rather precipitously, he viewed it as her actually caring about him. The fact that, even with her memories restored, someone like the Rani COULD care about him was a surprise.

The second, and more serious, rift happened when Scabbers, later revealed to be Wormtail, was apparently attacked and eaten by Crookshanks. Despite trying to mediate between the two, Harry was all but given an ultimatum by Ron, to ditch Hermione, or sever their friendship. Harry opted to do the latter, much to Ron's surprise and anger. Harry pointed out that Scabbers was old, decrepit, and not long for this world. Not to mention a hand-me-down from Percy that Ron had called useless before anyway. Harry had offered to buy Ron an owl, but Ron, in his anger at Harry defending Hermione, refused.

Pride and prejudice had shattered a friendship, not wholly beyond repair, but even when Ron rediscovered Scabbers, there was a cooling of the relationship between them that remained. The truth was, it wasn't Ron's obnoxious and opinionated attitude that put them off: Ron was, in the end, a decent enough person. But it was his lack of intelligence, or rather, his laziness with his intelligence. He was intelligent enough to play chess and play it well, but he didn't do anything else with what had to be a decent intelligence, something that was anathema to Omega and the Rani. Ron didn't exercise his intellect beyond chess. He didn't want to learn anything he didn't want to. In short, they had become incompatible, and the embryonic Golden Trio dissolved.

They managed to learn the full truth from Sirius about what happened, but thanks to a number of factors (Snape being a dick, Remus forgetting his potion, and the Dementors deciding to attack), they were forced to rescue Sirius using first their Time Turner, and then their prototype TARDIS recreation. After that, Omega and the Rani were pissed to learn that Snape had deliberately outed Remus as a werewolf…which the pair of them took delight in revenging themselves. Now, Snape didn't serve two masters…or rather, not the two masters he served before. Instead of being caught between Dumbledore and Voldemort, he was now forced to serve beings he once denigrated as beneath him, only to realise too late that they were his superior by far. Omega found the irony of enslaving Snape as his spy in Dumbledore's camp appealing, especially as he learned, through telepathy (Gallifreyan telepathy bypassing Occlumency rather handily), that Snape had once loved his mother, a love that later became a twisted obsession. For goodness' sake, Snape wanted Voldemort to spare Lily alone out of the Potters sorely so that he could have her to himself, even thinking of making her into his sex slave if (or rather, knowing Lily, when) she refused.

In any case, they kept their friendship with the Twins, and with Percy, oddly enough, but their relationship with the younger Weasley children had become distant. Even so, they were heading there even now.

* * *

In Old High Gallifreyan, Omega said to the Rani, " _Look at these humans, these wizards and witches, scrambling around without heed or care, even to try and conceal themselves. Fools._ "

" _You're not saying anything I don't already know_ ," the Rani sniffed. " _Incidentally, I ran into Luna earlier. I ran our proposal by her, and she seems willing, as long as she can keep her body as an interface._ "

" _Hopefully, we can_ ," Omega mused. " _We'll discuss this later. Time to put on the masks._ "

The Rani nodded, and as they approached the Weasley tent, they put on the mask of relatively normal people, humans. Intelligent, haughty humans, but humans all the same. The time had not yet come to reveal the full extent of their true selves to Magical Britain.

At least not yet…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, the history of how Omega and the Rani came to be in the Potterverse. And is there something involving Luna? Well, DZ2's review for the first chapter in** ** _The Cauldron_** **gave me an idea…**

 **Next, the riot! And Omega and the Rani let loose…**

 **1\. In the novels, the Pythia, upon being overthrown, committed suicide, but not before cursing Gallifrey to sterility, ensuring that the Time Lords would have to be born from special biological engineering engines known as looms. Here, this was avoided, in order to keep continuity with the actual TV show, particularly the new series.**

 **2\. While how the Rani came into the Potterverse was made up (and presumably takes place, for her, much later in her life after** ** _Planet of the Rani_** **), how Omega was wasn't, more or less, though it disregards** ** _Gallifrey: Intervention Earth_** **. I basically summarised the events of the audio story** ** _Omega_** **, albeit in heavily abridged form.**

 **3\. In the novel** ** _Divided Loyalties_** **, the Deca was a group of ten Time Lord students. Amongst them included the Time Lords who would become the Doctor (then known by the nickname of Thete or Theta Sigma), the Master, the Rani, the Meddling Monk, Drax (from** ** _The Armageddon Factor_** **) and the War Chief (from** ** _The War Games_** **). The Deca are mentioned in** ** _The Rani Elite_** **, so while the novel may not be canon (for this work, anyway), the Deca are.**

 **4\. Both are exotic materials relating to time manipulation. Taranium was a vital part of Dalek time-manipulation technology in the Hartnell era, with a time machine powered by a small amount of the substance being used in** ** _The Dalek Masterplan_** **. Even more vital to the story was a canister of Tarranium used as the power source for a Dalek superweapon, the Time Destructor. Kontron crystals were part of the titular time corridor in** ** _Timelash_** **. The Doctor used them as a personal weapon to make himself invisible, as well as absorb and redirect time-acceleration beams.**

 **5\. Which happened in** ** _Remembrance of the Daleks_** **.**


	62. Future Imperfect Chapter 1

**This story was one that I thought might be told one day. I dunno whether it will get turned into a full story. Blame Clell65619 and their one-shot _The World of Tomorrow_ for this.**

 ** _Futurama_ is one of the few actual American science fiction shows I enjoy. Sad but true. This was my attempt at doing a crossover, though it's somewhat more somber than _Futurama_ is normally. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, regardless.**

* * *

 _ **FUTURE IMPERFECT**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **DEFROSTED**

 _The young man with the dark hair and green eyes looked out across at the city landscape, the mountain range-like skyscrapers of New York, on New Year's Eve, 1999. "Is there nobody else?" he asked, seemingly to himself: the room was mostly empty, bar for a desk, a chair, and a bunch of cryogenic tubes, a few with occupants._

 _"No. What your mother granted you is a great power, and one day, your kind will be all but extinct, at least on Earth." The voice that had answered him, seemingly out of the air, was deep and resonant._

 _The young man scoffed sadly. "No big loss. My friends are almost all dead, while I live on. All because of their petty prejudices."_

 _A shape leapt up onto his shoulder, a squat, black-furred animal with two eyes in its face, and one on a stalk coming from the top of its head, a pair of fangs jutting from its lips. The effect of it was rather endearing rather than sinister, especially as it seemed to be wearing a uniform. It placed a consoling hand on the young man's head. "I'm sorry. If we had time travel, we would have helped. And we would have prevented our own chosen one's death. Philip J Fry may not have been the hero we wanted, but his lack of a delta brainwave would be the boon we need. Your magic can fulfil a similar function, preventing you from falling prey to the Brainspawn."_

 _The young man sighed. "Well, at least you're up front about it, unlike a certain old goat."_

 _"Thank you. We can see into the future but dimly, but we hope you can find happiness there."_

 _"Merlin knows I won't find it here. Not anymore." The young man sighed again, before heading to an open cryogenics tube, the creature hopping down as he did so. "You're not coming with me?"_

 _"I have to fight off the Brainspawn where they attack. I also have other duties to attend to. Rest assured, when you wake up next, you will be in the right time. We have more of a hand in human affairs than you realise."_

 _The young man clambered into the cryogenics tube. "Well…see you in a thousand years."_

 _"Good luck, Harry Potter," said the creature, before it pushed the door of the cryogenics tube closed, and then scrambled up to set the dial. After doing so, the creature watched, and smiled reassuringly as Harry Potter smiled wearily back…and then, snap-froze in a strobe of blue light…_

* * *

The cheery ding of the 'timer' for the cryogenic tube was the first thing Harry heard as he woke. With a groan of weariness, he staggered out of the tube. Had he imagined it? Had he imagined that last conversation with the creature who called himself 'Lord Nibbler'?

Still, he supposed things couldn't be any worse than they already were. The final battle had come and gone, but at such a high cost. Few of his friends survived. Ron, Hermione, Luna, Neville, Ginny…they had all died because of Dumbledore's thing for giving forgiveness to those who had squandered their chances for redemption a thousand times over. It was why Harry fled Britain, as the rumours started spreading that he was going to become another Dark Lord, not helped when Harry had slaughtered all those Death Eaters who had survived.

It was while he was in New York for New Year's Eve, 1999 that he ran into Nibbler. Which was a weird conversation, considering he was talking to a small, black-furred glutton of an alien with three eyes and a surprisingly deep voice when he spoke English. Harry had wanted to reject Nibbler's offer, until he realised, there was nothing left for him here. And at least Nibbler had been more honest than Dumbledore about what he wanted him to do. Save the world, although at least Nibbler had said he wouldn't need to do so for a while.

His staggering carried him over to a window, and he glanced out of it…only for his glance to become a stare. He stared out at a magnificent array of buildings, strange shapes jutting into the sky, while vast tubes sent people through the city at speed, and cars and spaceships flew around the city. It still had the feel of New York, but…well, unless he was in some weird movie or virtual reality…it seemed that Nibbler was right. He was in the future.

The distance in time, however, hadn't done much to lessen the survivor's guilt Harry felt. But perhaps it didn't make it worse. Still, at least the world wasn't a wreck due to him not being there for it.

"WELCOME, TO THE WORLD OF TOMORROW!" declared a voice from behind him. Harry whirled, on the verge of hexing the man, who turned out to be a weedy-looking man in a labcoat and glasses.

Another one, with dark skin, said wearily, "Why do you have to say that?"

The glasses-wearing man said petulantly, "It's called showmanship." To Harry, he said, "COME, YOUR DESTINY AWAITS!"

"I didn't order a large ham, guys," Harry snarked as he followed them.

The pair led him to a door, which slid open like the ones on _Star Trek_ , complete with the noise. "Have a nice future," the dark-skinned one said, as Harry shuffled through, narrowly avoiding the door slamming shut on him.

There was an office behind it with what seemed like an examination room attached, with a rather shapely-looking woman in black trousers and a green jacket with her back to him. Purple hair was tied in a pigtail. On his entering, she turned, revealing a rather beautiful face…albeit with a single eye in the middle rather than the customary two. Harry blinked, before shrugging mentally. He had seen weirder in his time. "Good afternoon, sir. What's your name?" she asked.

"Harry Potter. Yours?"

"I'm Leela," the woman said. "I'm the Fate Assignment Officer assigned to you. Now, it's New Year's Eve, so I would like to decide your fate quickly and leave."

"Knowing my luck, that's not going to happen," Harry muttered. "Incidentally, can I ask you a question?"

Leela sighed. "Is it about the eye?"

"Related. I wanted to know, are you an alien? I mean, sorry if I'm being rude, I'm just curious."

Leela nodded resignedly. "Are you happy?"

"With your answer? Yeah. I'm sorry for that, I'm sure you get asked that all the time."

"Too often, anyway." Her eye flickered out the window, distracted by something, and Harry followed her gaze to see a blimp, declaring it to be Happy New Year 3000. She noticed his expression, and asked, "How long?"

"A thousand years."

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "You must be upset."

"Not really, not about that. Most of my friends were already dead when I got frozen. I was in a war, you see. I'm still getting over it."

Leela, after a moment, smiled, and put a hand on his shoulder. "Then you have my condolences Mr Potter. Now, strip naked and get on that Probulator."

* * *

A battery of medical tests later, and Harry was dressing as Leela told him he had a distant relative, apparently descended from Dudley, albeit through the thousand years he had been frozen, that didn't mean much. And the picture she showed was of an ancient-looking man wearing thick glasses who was called Professor Hubert Farnsworth.

Shortly afterwards, Leela was typing something at her computer. "So, what are you doing, exactly?" Harry asked.

"Cross-matching known records as well as physical and mental assessments to give you a permanent career assignment." Leela blinked. "It seems that you're something of a legend in certain circles, Mr Potter. We'll probably have to pass you off as a descendant who got into the tube later."

"Wait, wait, wait. Did you say _permanent_ career assignment?" That concept alone rankled Harry. After all, he had spent his childhood having fate (or at least Dumbledore) map it out for him to be sodomised for.

After a moment, Leela said resignedly, "Look, it's part of society." She indicated a poster on the wall, which had the motto, _You Gotta Do What You Gotta Do_. "Those who disagree tend to get fired from a cannon into the Sun. That being said, certain skillsets mean a certain flexibility. I'm a qualified pilot, for example, so I could be reassigned to another position in theory. And there's always the possibility of promotion, obviously." There was a noise from the computer. "Hmm. This is interesting. Your permanent career assignment is 'Troubleshooter'. That's actually quite a vague career, given that there's lots of jobs you could take. You're pretty lucky."

"Depends on what you mean by luck." Harry then saw her bringing out a rather large and sinister-looking clamp-like thing with pointy bits. "Okay, what is that thing, and why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like the answer?"

"It'll implant the career chip in you, marking you as a troubleshooter," Leela said. "Hold out your hand."

"It's not going to brainwash me? Poison me? Make me a target for wannabe Dark Lords?"

"No, no, and what are you smoking?"

Harry scowled, but held out his hand resignedly. At least it wasn't some stupid crap like 'hero' or 'Boy Who Lived', or Merlin forfend, 'Delivery Boy'. Troubleshooter at least sounded interesting. And if push came to shove, he'd use magic to alter it or get rid of it. Better to get it over and done with for the moment. He yelped as the thing bit into the palm of his hand, implanting the chip. "Gah!"

Leela chuckled softly, but not cruelly. "It's okay. I didn't like it either. Nobody does…unless they're masochists."

"Okay, so, what the hell am I supposed to do now?"

"Well, it's New Year's Eve, so jobs are thin on the ground. That being said, if you have any funds left over, you can access them. The computer listed a British-based bank called Gringotts, which has a branch here in the city."

"Huh. I'll think about that." A morose expression came over his face. Nibbler had said wizards and witches would be mostly extinct by now.

Seeing his expression, Leela said, quietly, "If it makes you feel any better, I know a little of what you're going through. The file said you were an orphan from a young age. I never even knew my parents. I don't even know what species I am, and not for want of looking. When I was a baby, they left me at an Orphanarium with a note."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Harry said. Shades of his own abandonment at the Dursleys'.

"Thank you," Leela said.

"Though that does sort of answer my question, whether you were named after that character from _Doctor Who(_ _1)_."

"Huh? Oh, you mean that old show from the Stupid Ages?"

"Stupid Ages?" Harry asked incredulously, before he thought about what even the Muggles were doing. "Anyway, thanks for trying to reassure me. So, looking forward to tonight?" On Leela's morose look, Harry said, "Sorry."

"No, no, it's not your fault. I'm just not sure what party to go to." Harry knew she was lying. She didn't look particularly good at it. But he didn't press.

"What about an office party?"

Leela scoffed. "Not much of one. You've met Terry and Lou. Terry's the hammy one. They usually hold one in here, but my boss Ipji goes home, and, well, Terry and Lou aren't much in the way of party people. Poker night's another matter."

"That's a pity. Hey, does your job also include reorientation? I mean, this is the future, after all," Harry asked.

Leela pursed her lips. "It can. Why do you ask?"

"I just thought, when you have a spare moment, you could show me where the most essential places in this New York is."

"Technically, it's New New York. And I'll think about it, though it's technically not part of my job. That being said, maybe you want to contact Professor Farnsworth to help with your reorientation. He's a noted inventor, and I believe he runs an interstellar delivery service called Planet Express." She handed him the printout with Farnsworth's details. "Hopefully, he'll give you accommodation until you can find somewhere. If not, contact me here. I know a few good apartments with cheap rent."

"Okay," Harry said, standing. But as he made to leave, he asked, "Do you like your job? I mean, sorry if it's an odd question, but…I don't like people being forced to do these things because of someone else's say-so."

Leela looked at him in surprise, before she shrugged. "It pays well."

Harry noted the evasion, but he nodded. "Hope you have a good time tonight."

* * *

Leaving the building, Harry stared at the various sights, of the flying cars, people wearing strange clothes, robots, and those things like pneumatic tubes for people. He found one, where someone stood in the entrance, and spoke their destination, before being whisked away. Like the Floo, he supposed. Stepping into one, he opted for the Crosstown Express, and was promptly whisked away at high speed. He nearly lost himself to the joys of moving at high speed, and only remembered his predicament at the last moment, as he came up to the exit. Thankfully, he managed to roll as he shot out, leaping to his feet with a flourish.

"Tourist," one man remarked disdainfully.

Harry flipped him the bird, before heading off. He realised he had been distracted from his need to contact Farnsworth, so he headed for a cubicle that he thought, at first, was a phone booth. The line was odd, and the fact that nobody went out, only went in, was odder still. On an impulse, he peeked at the side, and blinked. "Suicide booth?" he muttered.

"What's the matter, pal? Haven't you ever seen one of those before?" rasped a belligerent, irritable voice. Harry blinked, and turned to find what could only be a robot.

The robot had a cylindrical body with a hatch built in, its arms and legs articulated, its hands and feet very simple. The head had an antenna, two eyes in a visor glaring at him in annoyance, and a mouth that seemed to be a screen with grid patterns on them. "No I haven't, rustbucket."

"Bite my shiny metal ass," the robot retorted, the grid pattern distorting like a mouth as he spoke.

"It doesn't look so shiny to me," Harry snarked back.

"Shinier than yours, meatbag," the robot retorted.

"I'd show you otherwise, but I don't want to get arrested for public indecency," Harry snapped back. "Why do you want to use a suicide booth?"

"Why would a human care?" the robot asked.

Harry shook his head, before he saw the booth open up, ready to accept its next occupant. Harry, covertly, sent a small Blasting Hex at the booth before the next person could step inside. Not enough to destroy the booth, but certainly enough to damage it so that it couldn't be used. "Dammit," the man in front of him snarled. "It's broken." He stormed away, and Harry wondered whether the time it took for him, and the other would-be suicides, to find another booth would give them enough time to reconsider it. After all, these seemed like healthy people lining up to commit suicide.

"Lousy piece of junk," the robot growled. After a moment, he remarked, "Welp, I didn't have any other plans for the day. Let's go get drunk. I'm Bender, by the way."

"Harry. And I think I could do with some drink anyway…"

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, there you have it. Harry's met Leela and Bender. This will be somewhat less whacky and more sombre in tone than** ** _Futurama_** **usually is, but the jokes are there.**

 **Now, this story won't be a full adaptation of every** ** _Futurama_** **episode, just a number of key ones. Unlike with Fry, Harry and Leela will have a more stronger relationship initially, if only because Harry's far less frivolous than Fry, and they have some shared experiences (like being orphaned, feeling isolated in the world, etc).**

 **1\. Apparently in one of the DVD commentaries, Matt Groening confirms this, though Leela is also named for the** ** _Turangalîla-Symphonie_** **by Olivier Messiaen.**


	63. Hammer into Anvil Chapter 1

**It's odd how some stories work out. This story (named for an episode of _The Prisoner_ , itself named after a quote from Goethe) was originally a _Fate/Stay Night_ crossover shipping Harry with Medea Lily (which, incidentally, is still on the cards). Indeed, a lot of this first chapter was copied and pasted over from the original version, but modified to include Terra, as well as modified to substitute the story ideas here.**

 **Incidentally, this story is my first foray into WBWL (Wrong Boy Who Lived, for those who don't know the terminology) fics, albeit with a twist: I will rant about the parts I hate and characters I bash or do not bash in the annotations, but I wanted to do my own version, where the WBWL is NOT a stupid, obnoxious prick, and where Lily is blameless for Harry's neglect. It will also be my first foray into Sirius-bashing, though I do think he deserves it at times.**

 **Anyway, this story was also partially inspired by another of DZ2's challenges, _The Heart's Familiar_. I originally wanted to do it with Medea Lily (even without the WBWL angle), and even considered some _Highschool DxD_ characters, but I eventually remembered an old idea I had. I wanted to do a story where the Esper half of Terra from _Final Fantasy VI_ ends up on Earth, along with the Espers, after the events of the ending of that game. I've decided to make Terra Harry's familiar/girlfriend/lover, hence the tinkering with age. This will be my second crossover between the Potterverse and _Final Fantasy VI_ , with Harry once more shipped with Terra.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.**

 **EDIT: (March 17, 2017) I edited this story slightly to change a bit of dialogue. I've changed the pairing to a three-way pairing. No prizes for guessing who number three is, given where Harry's been...**

* * *

 _ **HAMMER INTO ANVIL**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **THE AWAKENING**

The long-term care ward at St Mungo's rarely entertained visitors. It was where the helpless cases were left to be cared for, but with no hope of them recovering. It was a veritable necropolis for the not-quite-dead.

And yet, on July 30th 1994, the most famous patient of that ward received a number of visitors. Visitors who were more than a little strange, even by the standards of Magical Britain. Well, one of them, anyway. The boy with dark hair and a lightning-like scar and the scarred, careworn-looking man were relatively normal, and both were known to the staff of St Mungo's. The girl accompanying them with the green hair framing delicate features was an oddity, but not much of one in a world of Metamorphmagi.

Given what happened the last time the first two were in St Mungo's, the security was put discreetly on alert. Instincts screamed at them that there was trouble on its way. They didn't know it, but they weren't here to cause trouble. Not in St Mungo's, anyway. But this would be the beginning of events that would shake Magical Britain to its very core…

* * *

One of the most onerous duties trainee Auror Nymphadora 'Don't bloody call me that' Tonks was guard duty for Charles Potter, the Boy Who Lived. Sure, he wasn't as stuck up or stupid as some rumours made him out to be, and he was nicer than his father. The problem was more dealing with the reporters that hounded the Boy Who Lived's steps. That, and dealing with the blazing rows that erupted between father, godfather, and son over his older brother Harry's fate.

Harry had been disowned by his father during that whole Chamber of Secrets fiasco for being a Parselmouth, and after his fifth year had finished, had upped and vanished, along with his godfather Remus Lupin, who had been disgusted at how two of his so-called best friends had treated Harry. They'd even allowed him to be shipped off by Dumbledore to the Dursleys, though they kept the reason, if they knew it, quiet.

While Charles Potter had grown up somewhat spoiled, he had managed to get some of his best traits from his mother. And he managed to cultivate a good relationship with the older brother he had only heard about, despite James and Sirius shunning him. So too had a few other students, like Harry's fellow Ravenclaws Hermione Granger and Luna Lovegood. But with James Potter disowning him, and Sirius Black refusing to allow him into the Black family, Harry had disappeared, along with his godfather.

An attempt to track them down and persecute the werewolf only ended when they learned that the pair had sought sanctuary in France, and that Harry and Remus had enrolled at Beauxbatons, the former as a student, and the latter as a teacher. And the relations between Magical Britain and their Gallic counterparts were somewhat strained. So James Potter and Sirius Black decided to wash their hands of Harry Potter and Remus Lupin, at least for the time being. Dumbledore was perhaps more put out and tried harder to get Harry and Remus out of France, but for reasons Tonks was not privy to. But Gringotts upheld the adoption of Harry by Remus, and the French authorities made it clear that, Supreme Mugwump or not, Dumbledore had no business bothering either of them. Attempts to overturn this in the Wizengamot were blocked by a number of families, Light, Dark and Grey, who wanted to stick it to James Potter, Sirius Black and Dumbledore. Even Dolores Umbridge, noted for her hatred for werewolves, found her contempt for Dumbledore and Potter even greater, enough to wish the two good luck. Mentally, anyway.

Sirius had her assigned to look after Charles, hinting that he would reinstate her and her mother, something he had dangled over their heads for a long time. But considering that her parents had arguments with Sirius and James over Harry, that wasn't going to happen anytime soon, and Tonks only did it on Madam Bones' suggestion, to help with her advancement within the Auror Corps.

Tonks had escorted Charles here because he wanted to visit his mother. He did so, hoping that his mother would wake, despite her being in a coma for nearly thirteen years now. Lily Potter was now thin and wasted under her gown and bedclothes, once called the brightest witch of her age, but now reduced to a condition where she would envy a vegetable.

Charles said nothing, just clutching his mother's hand. At least not until the door opened. He looked up, ready to snarl at the intruders, only to blink. "Harry?"

Tonks blinked. Harry had shot up like a weed during his time in France. He wasn't wearing glasses anymore, either. Charles was stocky with brown hair and hazel eyes, while Harry was slender with black hair and green eyes. Both had scars on their foreheads: Charles had two parallel lines not unlike an equals sign, while Harry had a lightning bolt-shaped scar zig-zagging out from under his fringe. Harry was 17, while Charles was 14. Quite by coincidence, the two had been born on the same day, three years apart.

She recognised Remus Lupin, that familiar scarred, careworn visage, though he looked happier than he ever did. But she didn't recognise the slender girl accompanying them. She had long green hair tied up in a ponytail, and delicate features, a vaguely unearthly beauty suggested by her. The girl was about Harry's age.

"Hey, Tonks," Harry said cheerfully. "Haven't seen you since Christmas at Grimmauld back in '92. How's things, Charlie?"

"You've been gone for a year, and that's all you can say?" Charles asked. "I missed you, Harry."

"Yeah, I missed you too, but I needed to go incognito, Dumbledore seemed intent on me going back to the Dursleys. I wrote, anyway."

"Not much," Charles protested. "Who's the girl?"

"Oh, right. Charlie, Tonks, this is Terra Branford. Terra, this is my brother Charlie, and that's 'Don't Call Me Nymphadora' Tonks. More introductions will have to wait for the moment, though."

Terra nodded, and walked over to the supine form of Lily Potter. Tonks, meanwhile, blinked in confusion. "Girlfriend?"

Terra spoke, her voice gentle and soft. "Not exactly. I am a student at Beauxbatons with Harry. We met under unusual circumstances."

"What, did you just fall out of the sky or something?" Tonks asked. The girl didn't have a French accent. In fact, her accent was…indefinable. Vaguely lilting and musical.

"Actually, yes," Terra said, as she examined Lily. After a moment, she said, "Harry, I've finished examining her. Given what I removed from your scar, she is beginning to recover. But she needs a boost to her core to regain consciousness. I can do that."

Charles, in disbelief, asked, "Can you revive her?"

"Yes, I can." Terra plucked out a green crystal, with what looked like a flame in the middle. "Phoenix: Flames of Rebirth," she intoned.

With that, the crystal flared with light. A massive, magnificent phoenix appeared in the room, hovering over Lily. Tonks had seen Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, but this phoenix made Fawkes pale by comparison. With a musical wailing cry, it bathed Lily in warm light, before vanishing. . Lily Potter's body glowed, and then spasmed briefly.

Normally, coma patients don't wake up instantly, instead having brief periods of wakefulness that slowly and gradually lengthen. This wasn't the case here. Lily's eyes opened, and then looked around the room. "Harry...Charlie…" she rasped. "Moony…Nymphadora…"

Tonks chose not to berate the newly-awakened woman for using her much-hated first name. "It's okay, Lily…you've been asleep for a long time…"

Lily nodded. "Nearly thirteen years…I know…" She looked over at Harry. "While my lifeforce was protecting Harry…I could see his memories…oh, Harry…I'm sorry…I'm so sorry for what you went through…"

"It's not your fault, Mum," Harry said. "It's Dumbledore and his pawns. Potter…Black…Snape…you tried to save me…save both of us."

Lily nodded again, then turned to Charles. "Charlie…my little boy, all grown up…thank you, for befriending your brother, despite the poison _Potter_ dripped into your ear." She grimaced. "They're going to pay."

"They will, Lily," Remus said softly. "We'll make sure of it. We're staying in England for the year. Friends have arranged for us to stay in London until the time comes."

Charles blinked. "Wait a moment…this Tri-Wizard Tournament thing…are you coming with the Beauxbatons delegation?"

"How do you know about it?" Remus asked.

"It's the worst-kept secret in the Ministry," Tonks said. "James and Sirius were bragging about it, and pissed that they're restricting it to those who are undertaking NEWTs or equivalents. They wanted Charles to be in it, naturally."

"I'm going to. So's a friend of mine, Fleur Delacour," Harry said. "Plus, I want to see my Hogwarts friends, as well as the teachers who actually gave a damn about me. Flitwick, Sprout, McGonagall…and I want to stick it sideways to the sperm donor and the flea-bitten mutt."

"And Terra?" Charles asked. "She doesn't sound French, so where does she come from? And what was that phoenix she made appear?"

"It has to be a secret, Charlie," Harry said. "Terra…means a lot to me. But there are things about her that, if they get out…I mean, we're talking stuff that's almost as bad as the whole Parseltongue thing, if not worse. They'll either want us locked up in Azkaban, or else have what is ours taken away from us. Or both."

"And she's your girlfriend?" Charles laughed, not noticing the odd look Harry and Terra exchanged. "Lucky you! Dad's pushing through marriage contracts with Ginny or Susan! Ron's beside himself at the thought of me marrying his younger sister, even though I want to marry Luna."

"Yeah, Ginny's a major fangirl, isn't she?" Harry asked wryly. "Though Susan's all right. So, you and Luna? I thought you'd be with Hermione."

"No, she's with Neville. She misses you. We all do, Harry," Charles said.

"Well, I'm back for now," Harry said. "And believe me, I've got some surprises in store…"

* * *

James Potter was staring at a wall at 12 Grimmauld Place, a tumbler of firewhiskey in his hand, thinking about what his oldest friend Sirius had just told him. "He's back in England?"

"They both are, Prongs," Sirius said. "And it seems the Slytherin-in-hiding has a girlfriend. Pretty thing too, he doesn't deserve someone like her. I don't know where they've gone, but I wouldn't be surprised if he's gone to visit Lily. Problem is, Charles and Tonks are there, and you know how they feel about the traitors."

James shook his head. "Charles is already being disobedient lately. He didn't take me disowning that snake-tongued shit very well. Neither did the wolf. Those damned Goblins allowed Moony to adopt Harry. I might need to call on Dumbledore to brew up some Loyalty Potions. Charles is getting too rebellious."

"That's a crime, remember?"

"Only if you get caught," James said. "Nobody caught onto my using Amortentia to get Lily to me."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Prongs, you'd think it was Wormtail who needed Amortentia to land a girl, not you."

"Says the perpetual bachelor. So, potions aside, what do you reckon?"

"Apparently Moony and his snake-tongued cub are part of Beauxbaton's contingent to the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He can't participate, obviously, but they're heading to the Quidditch World Cup for a time, before they do some sightseeing around Britain, and then, for Halloween, they're going to Hogwarts. We can't do much to assail Harry directly, though. Rumour has it that the Flamels have taken an interest in Harry, and they're practically unassailable. We can wage a campaign against Harry anyway. And in any case, there's something else."

"What's that?"

"That idiot Bagman wanted a drink the other day," Sirius said. "He's in deep debt, he had the nerve to ask me for a loan to keep the Goblins off his back. I might do that…in exchange for ensuring Harry gets a harder time in the Tournament. I'd pay good money to see that little shit eaten by a manticore."

James grinned at the thought. And then, another idea occurred to him. And with that idea, his grin widened, devious and malevolent. "Padfoot…how are they going to pick the Champions?"

Sirius, after a moment, found his own grin matching his old friend and partner in crime's. It was the sort of grin that held the portent of pain and humiliation for one's enemies. But little did they know that Harry would be more than ready for them, and for anything they could throw at him. And by attempting to plot his humiliation and possible demise, they didn't know that they were merely signing their own death warrants…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **A pretty dark start to the story. Then again, it was originally much darker: I had James basically raping Lily in her coma, like Buck raping Beatrix in** ** _Kill Bill_** **while she was in a coma. Yes, I know, I am making James Potter really bashable, but frankly, I don't think he's that far from it in canon. And truthfully, neither is Sirius Black.**

 **A lot of you are going to be up in arms about portraying Sirius this way, as in most of the WBWL stories he's in, he's a more heroic character. And in fact, I've never bashed him before. But when you think about it, Sirius was probably the worst of the Marauders, nearly committing murder by proxy, and while Snape was no saint, it would have been Remus who suffered the most in that incident. Sirius is really only given a pass in canon and in fanfic because he's one of the coolest characters in the franchise. And I generally portray him as such. But I have more sympathy for Remus Lupin, with my only concern for him being what happened in Book 7, and his abandoning of a pregnant Tonks. That, and drinking the Dumbledore Kool-Aid, but let's face it, just about everyone does in canon who is a protagonist.**

 **As for James Potter, well, what little we see of him in childhood doesn't paint him in a good light. I have done stories before where he is the villain, including** ** _Verdant Magic_** **, as well as the original version of** ** _Underground's Champion_** **. It's frankly not that much of a stretch to write him as a villain. Frankly, it's actually easier writing him as a villain than it is to write Dumbledore: for all the man's faults (and he has many), I like to believe that the canon Dumbledore (as opposed to the one in this fanfic) was a fundamentally decent man beneath his flaws, and if he had another, less risky means of getting the Horcrux out of Harry, he would have done so as soon as he could. If there was another Muggle relative Harry could have stayed with other than the Dursleys, canon Dumbledore would have sent him there. Of course, this story isn't about canon.**

 **However, two things really stick in my craw about WBWL stories, things that appear most, if not all, of the time. The first is that the WBWL is a complete idiot with arrogance oozing everywhere. It's good for a few fics, but to have it in every goddamn fic (or what seems like it) really gets old after a while. I wrote Charles as an antidote to that: he's still arrogant to a degree, and certainly spoiled. But he's not an idiot, he's not utterly self-centred, and he actually gives a damn about Harry. He embodies the better parts of James, in canon, anyway, whereas this version of James features James' worst properties, exaggerated admittedly, but taken to a logical conclusion.**

 **The second thing that pisses me off about WBWL stories is Lily's behaviour. While Lily Evans/Potter is no saint by any means, she was willing to sacrifice her very life to save her son's in canon. Indeed, this was the case in this story, hence her being in a coma rather than dead. And yet, in WBWL stories, she behaves appallingly. There are a few stories where Lily is controlled into neglecting Harry, but I didn't want to do that. Lily's coma was a means to have her out of Harry's life, without the moral turpitude. She'll also be a willing partner in taking down those who wronged her and her children. Not just her husband and Sirius and Dumbledore, but also the Death Eaters and Voldemort.**

 **We'll also find out more about Terra and how she ended up in the Potterverse in the next chapter…**

 **No numbered annotations for this chapter.**


	64. Hammer into Anvil Chapter 2

**I'm surprised at the response I got for this. I had to quickly edit the first chapter slightly to prevent continuity errors from occurring. As I wrote this chapter, I decided to change the pairing slightly, adding Fleur to the Harry/Terra pairing. So...does that mean a Terran Flurry? Anyway, that's why I edited the previous chapter.**

* * *

 _ **HAMMER INTO ANVIL**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **VEELA, ESPERS, AND IMMORTALS**

Harry thought it funny when his family (Tonks was an admittedly very distant relation, so he counted her as such) found out where he was staying: in a magical annex to the British Museum. They had used a Portkey to get there. His true father and Terra knew, of course, but Lily, Charles, and Tonks were astonished. Lily was also pleased, despite her wasted state, as she loved the British Museum. She was currently in a wheelchair that Charles was pushing around.

It had taken some persuading for the management of St Mungo's to release Lily into their care, and only the reassurances that they had a qualified Healer to look after her had them agreeing. They had to swear a magical oath (something Charles and Tonks had to do to Harry and the others before they could come with them), but they had been allowed to take Lily from St Mungo's. Doubtless one of the staff would be running to _The Daily Prophet_ even as they did so, though.

He noticed his mother peering at a set of MACUSA Auror clothes that proclaimed to be those that Grindlewald wore during the New York incident of 1926, with a surprisingly realistic-looking mannequin of Grindlewald. Harry snorted quietly. He had found out more than a few details about that little incident. Magical Britain was bad enough, but there were times when the US was as bad, if not worse. France was more tolerable, but it still had its hidden dark side.

Still, if he hadn't gone to France, he wouldn't have met Terra, whose hand he was holding. Or the other love of his life, for that matter.

"Harry! Terra! Monsieur Lupin!" called out a familiar and very welcome voice. Coming towards them was the familiar form of Fleur Delacour, long blonde hair framing elegant, hauntingly-beautiful features. Like Terra's, there was something vaguely unearthly about that beauty, albeit in different ways. Terra's features were delicate and gentle, whereas Fleur's were haughty and proud. However, Fleur's expression was currently welcoming, and she embraced Harry and Terra in a hug. In French, she asked, " _So, it worked?_ "

" _Yes_ ," Terra said. " _We brought her here for protection as per the plan._ "

Harry nodded. " _Where's our hosts?_ "

" _Entertaining my parents and Gabrielle_ ," Fleur said. She peered over Harry's shoulder at Charles, and chuckled. Harry turned to see Charles all but drooling, in a near-catatonic state. " _The little boy is a little sensitive to my allure, no?_ "

" _Hey, that's my brother_ ," Harry snapped, albeit without any real anger, just a hint of annoyance. " _He actually managed to knock out a Troll to save Hermione in his first year, and he helped me kill a Basilisk in his second year. Little boy or not, Charlie's got guts, and he's as good at learning magic as I am. If he was old enough, he'd be a good contender for the Tri-Wizard Tournament._ "

" _Well, you are better than him in one regard at least. When we first met, you weren't as badly affected by my allure_ ," Fleur said with a smile. " _Shall you do the polite thing, and introduce me?_ "

" _Of course._ " Turning back to the others, Harry said, "Allow me to introduce this fine woman. This is Fleur Delacour, my fiancée."

Understandably, this revelation confused Charles and Tonks, Charles snapping out of his allure-induced catatonia. Lily merely looked amused. "But I thought Terra…" Charles said.

"Charlie, you assumed," Lily said gently. "I saw Harry's relationship through his eyes before he removed…the dark magic in his scar. Technically, Harry is with both of them. But he cannot legally marry Terra. She is not actually a witch, not by our definition, but a familiar, and while Fleur is part-Veela, she counts as a witch, though you wouldn't know it with the bigotry."

Tonks, after a moment of staring, eventually said, "You look human."

"I'm using a glamour to change my appearance. And not so long ago, I actually was human, or half-human," Terra said quietly. "It's a long story."

"Can we hear it?" Charles asked.

Fleur looked at Harry. " _I think our hosts want to talk to my parents a little longer, so we have time_ ," she said in French.

* * *

They soon made their way to a library area. Harry knew that Hermione would give up her firstborn to gain access to this veritable Grand Canyon of books. As it was, he intended to invite her to here when he could get a chance. They then sat down on a number of rather expensive-looking couches, Harry flanked by Terra and Fleur on one.

"So, where do we begin? You already know I transferred to Beauxbatons after the old goat expelled me from Hogwarts. It was while we were approaching Beauxbatons that Terra, literally, fell from the sky. Not as she looks now, though. Terra?"

Terra nodded, and then said, "Please, don't be frightened." Her body suddenly flared with violet light. Harry snickered as he watched Charles and Tonks gape after they blinked away the afterimages. After all, Terra looked rather strange when she assumed her true form, to say the least.

She appeared to be nude, her skin lavender-coloured and glowing. Her hands and feet were bestial paws, and tufts of fur sprouted from parts of her body. Her hair had become a massive mane. Her face was still recognisable as that of Terra, but had a slightly more bestial air, even if she was still attractive in an exotic way. The sclera of her eyes were yellow, and they could see small fangs in her mouth when she opened them. But the effect was not actually frightening or repulsive, but endearing. Though one couldn't deny the power that rolled off her in waves.

"Wow, what are you Terra?" Tonks asked, recovering her shock first.

"I am…was half-Esper, a term given to a form of magical creature your world is unfamiliar with," Terra said, her voice slightly distorted by her transformation. "I come from another time, another world(1)."

Harry nodded as Terra reversed her transformation. "On this world, magic emanated from a trio of deities known as the Warring Triad. When they went to war, they transformed humans into their soldiers, which they called Espers. There were some humans who kept their form, and were able to use magic, and were called the Magi in that world. When the Warring Triad realised the devastation they were causing, they sealed themselves away. But humans and Espers fought, with the former trying to steal the Espers' magic. The Espers managed to seal themselves away in their own realm, along with the sealed Warring Triad, now a trio of statues. This was called the Esper Realm. For years, they had no contact with humans, and magic had mostly vanished from the world."

Terra nodded, before she added, "But then, my mother, Madeline(2), managed to enter the Esper Realm. Most Espers didn't accept her, but my father, Maduin, did. I was their child, half-Esper, and half-human. But shortly after I was born, the ruthless army of the Gestahl Empire attacked, and my parents and I were abducted. My mother perished trying to get me back from Emperor Gestahl. My father and I were taken to the Gestahl Empire's capitol of Vector and experimented upon. My father and other Espers captured before my people re-sealed our realm had their magic drained and infused into both people and technology, known as Magitek. Two of those people who had Magitek used on them were one of my best friends, and my worst enemy. The friend was Celes Chere. The enemy, though…" Terra shuddered.

"She's talking about Kefka Palazzo," Harry said grimly. "Imagine the Joker from _Batman_ with magic powers. He was Gestahl's right-hand man, and a raving lunatic. He enslaved Terra with the Magitek equivalent of the Imperius Curse. She was freed by one of her fellow Espers, frozen in ice in a town called Narshe. I won't go into details, but she joined a resistance group called the Returners, and eventually, they had to stop Gestahl and Kefka from unleashing the power of the Warring Triad. But they failed. Kefka betrayed Gestahl, and set off a chain reaction with the Triad that devastated their world."

Terra pursed her lips. "By then, I had already discovered my true heritage, and my father showed me memories of my true past. But I was still uncertain of whether people would truly accept me. I became a guardian to a village of children after Kefka ruined our world. Eventually, with the help of my friends, I regained the will to join them to fight Kefka. By that point, Kefka had absorbed the powers of the Warring Triad, becoming effectively a god of magic, and a mad god who wanted to destroy the world out of spite and amusement. We barely defeated him, but with that defeat, we removed the source of magic from the world. The Espers began to disappear, and I was afraid I would disappear along with them. But then, something happened. I split in half. My human half remained in that world, while my Esper half left that world with the other Espers. Somehow, we ended up here."

Harry chuckled. "She, along with a LOT of Magicite, literally fell from the skies. We were literally just arriving when she hit the ground. The problem was, though, as she had been torn in half, so to speak, her Esper half needed magic to stay alive. So, in her desperation, she bonded to my magic, effectively making her my familiar. In truth, we are far more than that. Terra was my first friend in France. Fleur, eventually, became my second."

"Harry was one of the few boys who looked past my Veela heritage," Fleur said in accented English. "I was also intrigued by the difference between what your English newspapers claimed and what I saw. And…well, he defended Gabrielle from some bullies."

"Yeah, I remember the look on Draco's face when you gave him a detention for calling Hermione a Mudblood," Charles snickered. " _Just wait until my father hears about this_ , he said. Wanker."

"Charles Potter, mind your language!" Lily snapped.

"Hey, Malfoy called you a MILF," Harry said. "Except the first letter stands for 'Mudblood'."

"I know, I saw through your eyes, and believe me, I'd like nothing more than to throttle that inbred blonde ferret until his eyes pop out. But if you're going to insult him, then at least be creative about it. Find a thesaurus or something. Instead of 'wanker', call him an onanist. That way, teachers and prefects might not take point off you, as they may not know what you said." Lily then looked at Fleur and Terra. "So, an Esper and a part-Veela. Well, Potter will doubtless be annoyed that you managed to get a part-Veela fiancée. I remember him bragging about the Veela dancer he had on his stag night."

Remus winced. "Don't remind me. I had to extinguish Prongs when she set him on fire for groping her."

Lily blinked. "But I thought he got those burns from drinking too much firewhiskey and belching. Huh. I guess he never could keep his hands to himself."

"Lily, you don't know the half of it. I'm sorry I couldn't protect Harry as much as I could have: Dumbledore threatened me with Azkaban at best if I approached him directly. Thankfully, I was able to send letters."

"You took him in when Potter disowned him and Black aided and abetted Potter. I'm still a little disappointed, Remus, but you've more than made up for it by being there when nobody else was," Lily said.

"If I didn't, I knew I wouldn't be able to look at myself in the mirror if you did somehow wake up," Remus said.

"Thankfully, Mr Lupin is made of sterner stuff," came a new voice, with a faint French accent. The man who entered seemed surprisingly young, albeit with a stern, if handsome, face framed by long black hair. "Lady Potter, or would you prefer Miss Evans now?"

"Miss Evans, although you may call me Lily."

The newcomer smiled. "Then I shall. And Mr Potter the younger, and Miss Tonks. It is a pleasure to meet you all at long last."

"Do I know you?" Charles asked. "I don't mean to be rude, but…"

"No, no, you're not being rude. I have had many names over the centuries. It comes with the territory. Let's just say that I was flattered you went to all that trouble to thwart that upstart Voldemort when he tried to steal something of mine. And in your first year, too. Though it wasn't what you thought it was."

Charles blinked. "But…that means…"

"Yes. As I have said, I have had many names. But the one you would know me best is Nicholas Flamel."

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry's not only in a three-way with Terra and Fleur, but he's got a powerful ally in the form of Nicholas Flamel. Incidentally, for this story at least, I based my thoughts on what Nicholas should look like on an older Waver Velvet, when he's Lord El-Melloi II after the events of** ** _Fate/Zero_** **. Although Perenelle is yet to appear, I thought of her as looking like Ashildr from** ** _Doctor Who_** **, particularly the version seen in** ** _Hell Bent_** **.**

 **1\. Terra is quoting Susan's line from the very first** ** _Doctor Who_** **episode,** ** _An Unearthly Child_** **. In the original untransmitted pilot version, she instead says that she was born in the 49** **th** **Century.**

 **2\. In the original English translation of** ** _Final Fantasy VI_** **, Terra's mother was called Madonna, but the Japanese version called her Madeline.**


	65. Killing Floor Chapter 1

**This one is yet another answer to a challenge (and remember, I do not take any suggestions from people, so don't offer any challenges: any challenges I do take up are wholly on my terms). This one is from whitetigerwolf, whose Protector Challenge was what grabbed me. It's a WBWL story (a bit more stereotyped than _Hammer into Anvil_ ) with a twist: when Harry is discovered to be the real BWL, he is brought back to Britain, with a protective lover who isn't afraid to kill to keep Harry safe. For details, please peruse whitetigerwolf's forum here:  
**

 **topic/83467/146190424/1/Protector-Challenge-Harry-Potter-Various**

 **I originally intended to do X-23/Laura Kinney/Laura Howlett from _X-Men_ , but my motivation ran out pretty quickly. However, another possibility intrigued me, one whitetigerwolf suggested from the pages of the manga series _Black Lagoon_. **

**Despite having never gotten that far in _Black Lagoon_ , I had heard of Sawyer the Cleaner, and seen a couple of clips on YouTube. A cute goth girl wielding a chainsaw and an electrolarynx? Why not? Now, I dunno how far this story will go, so whether it becomes a full story is up in the air. But maybe you'll like it.**

 **Some may see the DNA of _No rest for the wicked_ by Arawn D Draven, but I didn't use it as inspiration. Though I did keep it a little in the back of my mind. _Harry and the Pirates_ by Technomad was more of an influence.**

* * *

 _ **KILLING FLOOR**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **A STRANGE PAIR**

Roanapur. George Lucas, when writing of Mos Eisley, had Obi-Wan Kenobi describe it as a 'wretched hive of scum and villainy'. He may very well have been speaking of Roanapur. A city in southeast Thailand, it was very much a hub for many criminal activities, and indeed had a number of criminal gangs, some vying for supremacy, others willing to keep the status quo. It was at once a violent and yet strangely stable place. It was filled with life not in the same way a corpse is filled with life, with maggots and scavengers and the like, but filled with life in the way a jungle was.

Life was hard and harsh on the streets. This wasn't to say one couldn't live here legitimately, and earn a legitimate livelihood. But the criminal element was somewhat more pronounced here than usual around the world. It may not be the most crime-ridden location on the Earth, perhaps not even making it into the top ten, but it was certainly at the extreme end of the bell curve.

The thing about crime, especially violent crime, is that it is messy. This is a result of the human body containing a lot of mess. Blood, viscera, faecal matter, urine, etc. Mess tends to draw comment, and while the crime bosses have considerable sway in Roanapur, there are times when they need messes cleaned up, and someone to deal with the bodies and blood. Sometimes, they need someone to also mess up a perfectly intact and alive body, and turn it into a mess, as a message.

There is one person who fits these criteria. Known pseudonymously as 'Sawyer the Cleaner', very little is known about this silent sentinel, only that they are frequently clad in surgical scrubs and goggles when they are met, and are rather slender. On occasion, they are accompanied by a somewhat more verbose assistant, though he (his voice is that of a young man) generally only helps with cleaning up corpses, not dealing with the living. He also works as the face of the front of Sawyer's business, calling himself Hal Evanson.

Hal speaks with a British accent that hasn't quite gone away in the decade or so that he has lived in Roanapur. How he got here was something out of legend. Ten years ago, at the age of nine, he was taken here by his uncle on a business trip, only to be attempted to be sold into the child sex trade. However, the criminal leader he had tried it on was one of those who detested the trade, and had murdered said uncle. Hal had fled into the night, and had fell in, for a time, with the Triad of Bai Ji-Shin Chang. He left the Triad, though he maintained links with them, shortly after meeting, quite by chance, Sawyer. He even sometimes acted as a go-between for the Triads, the Russian Mafia branch known as 'Hotel Moscow', as well as a number of organisations, some criminal, some not, some small-scale, some big-time.

Few people in Roanapur knew that the feared Sawyer the Cleaner was actually a girl of about twenty, one Frederica Sawyer. And even fewer knew, let alone suspected, that the two were lovers. But stranger things had happened in Roanapur.

* * *

Light peeked in through the bedroom, where a pair of forms were curled up on the bed, both naked, both about the same age. The young woman had her scarred arms around the young man's body, her breasts pressed into his back. On the wall was a movie poster for _Army of Darkness_ , and another for _The Texas Chainsaw Massacre_. Tattered forensic science journals were on the floor and a desk, with said desk also having, amongst other things, a disc-like device on a choker.

The young man was about nineteen, with a messy mop of black hair, his handsome, if rather lugubrious, features were marred only by a jagged scar on his forehead, like a lightning bolt, and some stubble. The young woman had short, brown hair, and a face that would have been considered beautiful, had it not been for the usually-apathetic or morbid expressions that were on it normally, though the blissful repose helped soften up features hardened by life before and in Roanapur. A massive scar marred her neck, and there were scars here and there all over her body.

As light entered through the window, the pair stirred gently. The young woman opened her eyes first, and then her smile widened a little. She closed her eyes briefly, inhaling the scent of her lover through her nostrils, savouring it like a bouquet of flowers, before she sighed in satisfaction. She clambered off the bed, just in time for the young man to open his eyes, and get a wonderful view of her callipygian rear. "Morning, Frederica. Sleep well?" the young man asked in a sleepy voice.

She gave a smirk that seemed to speak for her, before walking over to the desk, and taking the choker and placing it around her neck. She activated it, and spoke, her voice given a buzzing monotone by the device. " _Very well given last night, Harry. If I didn't need this, the neighbours would be complaining._ "

"Not that we really have any, which is just as well," Hal said. "Between our business and our pleasure, well…" He shrugged as he got off the bed, stretching. "Incidentally, apparently Dutch got himself a new crewmember. Some Japanese salaryman that Revy snatched along with some disk. Nice guy, a bit out of place with the Lagoon Company, but apparently he managed to figure out a way to destroy a helicopter attacking them with the torpedo on their boat."

Sawyer looked like she was about to call bullshit, before she said, " _Did you manage to get a memory from them?_ "

"Yeah, Dutch was cooperative. You know what Revy's like when I have my wand out. I did it to the Japanese guy too. Rokuro something or other, so Dutch calls him 'Rock'. Balalaika likes him. She's got that look in her eyes that she had when she talks to me and some of her men."

Sawyer scoffed, the sound having the air of a Cyberman coughing when she did so(1). " _She sent us the bodies of some fools she had interrogated recently, and I've heard rumours that Chen is trying to usurp her._ "

"Chen talks a lot of shit. And he screwed over Dutch once before. Dutch hasn't exactly forgiven him for that," Hal said with a shrug. "Chen's probably going to be taken out by Hotel Moscow, and considering that Chang thinks Chen's rocking the boat, he'll probably let it happen. Balalaika's nice to those she likes, and is polite and courteous to everyone else, save for outright enemies. If you're her enemy, you might as well bend over and kiss your arse goodbye. I prefer dealing with her than Revy, though. Revy's like a bottle of nitroglycerine with tits."

Sawyer snorted at his frequent and not inaccurate assessment of Revy 'Two-Hands', infamous for her skilled gunplay. While Hal was on relatively good terms with the mercurial gunwoman, Revy was known for a hair-trigger temper, and a bad relationship with Bao of the Yellow Flag bar, partly because Bao blamed Revy for whatever happened when a massive gunfight or something happened. Revy, however, was freaked out by the fact that Hal was a wizard, and knew magic. The Statute of Secrecy was looser here in Roanapur than in most other places in the world, so Hal could get away with more things here. And in a town filled with strange criminals, magic was just seen as another advantage…as long as you could survive.

Hal had been taught magic by a friend of the family's who had tracked him down to Roanapur some years ago, and while heavily disturbed to learn that his godson was the boyfriend of a mildly-deranged and sadistic killer, he at least cared enough about Hal. Balalaika now employed the man as an accountant for her legitimate concerns, after the last one was caught skimming money. That man was given to Sawyer to deal with: Balalaika usually preferred to do things in house, under the aegis of Hotel Moscow, but on occasion, she did retain Sawyer's services.

Sawyer was not volatile, not like Revy. True, she was possibly insane, and certainly morbidly-obsessed with the macabre. She had regaled Hal in the past with tales of her cleaning up various rooms and other things that had had corpses in there for far too long. She didn't speak about her past, how she got her scars or ended up in Roanapur, with Hal only talking about his own. Hal had gotten used to it, as well as her sadistic streak. You couldn't exactly be choosy in Roanapur, and for all her darker side, Sawyer was a loyal, intelligent, and, scars aside, beautiful young woman.

Plus, she was brilliant at using a chainsaw as a weapon. Which is far harder than it sounds: chainsaws are dangerous enough to use even when they are being used for their intended purpose of cutting through wood. They had a tendency to kick back in a way that would possibly end up with the user getting a face (or another body part) filled with chainsaw, not an amenable state of affairs as one would imagine. Being used as a weapon, despite what Hollywood would tell you, was even more dangerous than using it as intended. But Sawyer could swing that thing like Leatherface or Ash Williams. Not that she generally had call to use it as a weapon.

" _Well, we had best finish off those corpses Balalaika sent us_ ," Sawyer buzzed. " _We can't keep them in that freezer forever_ …"

* * *

As Sawyer went about her grisly work, whistling beneath her surgical mask as she sawed through the limbs of the latest idiot to piss off Balalaika, Hal heard the buzzer for the 'service door' ring out. He sighed, and went over to the door, and opened it, still in his own scrubs, pulling down his mask. "Oh, hello, Shenhua."

"Hi, Hal!" the Taiwanese enforcer said with a grin. She was a buxom young woman with dark-hair and a frequent smile on her face and a cheerful demeanour, employed by Chang of the Triad. Unfortunately, her broken English made her sound like a bad Chinese stereotype. "How you and Sawyer? You busy?"

"Yeah, Balalaika's sent us a couple of examples. What's the matter, Shenhua?"

Shenhua looked pensive, before she asked, "You put translation charm on, yes? I sound like retard in English."

Hal sighed, before he took out his wand, and cast the charm on himself, remembering to set it to Taiwanese Hokkien. " _This better?_ " he asked.

" _Of course it is. Like I said, I sound like a retard in English._ " Shenhua sighed. " _Anyway, I got news from the boss. Mr Chang told me that we've got wizards from England sniffing around, including some old fuck with a long beard and twinkling eyes. We used Occlumency just in case, but they're looking for Harry Potter._ "

Hal felt a chill at hearing that name. His old name. " _Anyone else?_ "

" _Yeah, two of them looked a bit like you. I'm guessing they're family. One's probably your father, as he looks like you, only with no scar and hazel eyes, while the other one's a boy who's pretty tubby and has brown hair. There's also this wanker who tried to hit on me, called himself 'seriously black' or something._ "

Hal frowned. " _Sirius Black?_ "

" _Probably. I told him that if he wanted a girl to have a one-night stand, he can go and find Revy._ "

Hal snickered at that. He had been told of Sirius Black's supposed skill at being a playboy, and Revy generally didn't take kindly to would-be suitors. " _Anyone else?_ "

" _Some greasy-haired idiot with a big conk and who seemed to think everyone was beneath him. Called himself 'severest snake' or something. Seriously, these British wizards have stupid names. There were a couple that looked like cops. They had the look. But here's the thing. Remember that Granger girl, that smartarse, who came here once? And that weirdo Lovegood? They've been here too._ "

Hal considered that. Hermione Granger had come to visit the teacher they both knew about a year ago. Hermione didn't know who he really was, not at the time, anyway. Maybe that had changed. Hal had thought her a bit of a know-it-all, but with her heart in the right place. Unfortunately, she was also overly enamoured with Dumbledore, who was one of those here.

Luna Lovegood had turned up not long after Hermione had left, in the company of her father. Easily one of the most eccentric people Hal had ever met (which was saying something in a place like Roanapur), she had recognised him on sight. Surprisingly, she seemed to inveigle herself into a little sister role for Hal and Sawyer, whom she met, and seemed utterly non-judgemental about.

" _Thanks, Shenhua_ ," Hal said. " _Looks like we'll be having visitors soon. But try to stall them for as long as possible if they try to get more out of you. Has Mr Chang told Balalaika?_ "

" _Yeah, he rang her up to warn her. Anyway, I thought I'd let you know. Oh, and they tried to warn us about some supposed Dark Lord's followers. That snake-faced fuckhead your teacher told us about? Full of Malt, or something?_ " Shenhua said.

" _Voldemort, but yes. His followers have a rather tacky tattoo of a skull fellating a literal snake_ ," Hal remarked. " _Think Magical Nazis. Oh, and if any do come to call on you…give them a Roanapur welcome, okay?_ "

Shenhua grinned viciously. " _It'll be my pleasure. I'll see you later, okay, Harry? And give my regards to Sawyer._ "

" _Will do_ ," Hal said. " _Bye._ "

As Shenhua left, Hal returned to where Sawyer was still dealing with the bodies. On her glance at him from behind her goggles, he said, "British wizards are nosing around, including the sperm donor, the so-called Boy Who Lived, and the old goat Dumbledore. Hermione and Luna are with them too. Oh, and Shenhua set up a horny wizard to be shot at by Revy."

Sawyer snickered quietly behind her mask, her electrolarynx currently not being worn. She beckoned Harry closer, and then pulled down her mask, and hissed in a hoarse whisper, little more than her breath being shaped by her lips and tongue, " _Then we will have to give them a suitable welcome, shan't we?_ "

Harry chuckled. He had to admit, he was looking forward to it…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, here you have it. Harry's shacked up with Frederica Sawyer, but his past has come back to haunt him. Then again, maybe he has come back to haunt his past…**

 **1\. For the** ** _Doctor Who_** **stories** ** _The Moonbase_** **and** ** _The Tomb of the Cybermen_** **, Peter Hawkins used a primitive form of electrolarynx to provide the voices of the Cybermen. It was actually more like a false palate that could buzz on cue. Unfortunately, Hawkins recalled in interviews that it had a bad habit of clogging up with saliva. This method was also used by Hawkins for the Cyberplanner in** ** _The Wheel in Space_** **, with Roy Skelton using a different method for the Cybermen proper.**


	66. Disquiet Chapter 1

**I was gratified by the wonderful response to _Killing Floor_. That being said, as I tried to continue it, I realised I couldn't do it. I couldn't justify the bashing characterisation of Dumbledore along with James and Sirius, it felt like too much of a mess. And I had a few other ideas that I wanted to implement. So, I decided to make Dumbledore far less bashable in this version (he's technically a good guy in this, but opposes Harry and Sawyer's methods)...albeit while deepening the villainy of this version of James and Sirius, as you will see later in the story.**

 **I also made Harry/Hal as mute as Sawyer, for reasons that will be made clear in the story proper. And I had an idea during the writing of _Killing Floor_ that I wanted to implement, so I put it in here. It's a big twist at the end of the first chapter, though what that twist actually means will depend on the reviews I get for this chapter.**

* * *

 _ **DISQUIET**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **THE MUTE TWINS**

Roanapur. George Lucas, when writing of Mos Eisley, had Obi-Wan Kenobi describe it as a 'wretched hive of scum and villainy'. He may very well have been speaking of Roanapur. A city in southeast Thailand, it was very much a hub for many criminal activities, and indeed had a number of criminal gangs, some vying for supremacy, others willing to keep the status quo. It was at once a violent and yet strangely stable place. It was filled with life not in the same way a corpse is filled with life, with maggots and scavengers and the like, but filled with life in the way a jungle was.

Life was hard and harsh on the streets. This wasn't to say one couldn't live here legitimately, and earn a legitimate livelihood. But the criminal element was somewhat more pronounced here than usual around the world. It may not be the most crime-ridden location on the Earth, perhaps not even making it into the top ten, but it was certainly at the extreme end of the bell curve.

The thing about crime, especially violent crime, is that it is messy. This is a result of the human body containing a lot of mess. Blood, viscera, faecal matter, urine, etc. Mess tends to draw comment, and while the crime bosses have considerable sway in Roanapur, there are times when they need messes cleaned up, and someone to deal with the bodies and blood. Sometimes, they need someone to also mess up a perfectly intact and alive body, and turn it into a mess, as a message.

There are two people who fit these criteria. They are both known as the Sawyer Twins, and very little is known about these silent sentinels, only that they are both frequently clad in surgical scrubs and goggles when they are met, and are rather slender. In truth, they are not siblings, though they are, albeit very distantly, related. They were also, at least for the past few years, lovers. It would have been surprising to those not in the know that one of the pair was a young woman. And despite the fact that they had been cleaners for some time, they were also young, with the woman just barely out of her teens. But they were old in spirit.

People didn't talk about the past in Roanapur. The past was a closed book, at least before you came here. But soon, the Sawyer Twins' past would come back to haunt them…or perhaps it was they who would come back to haunt their pasts…

* * *

Light peeked in through the bedroom, where a pair of forms were curled up on the bed, both naked, both about the same age. The young woman had her scarred arms around the young man's body, her breasts pressed into his back. On the wall was a movie poster for _Army of Darkness_ , and another for _The Texas Chainsaw Massacre_. Tattered forensic science journals were on the floor and a desk, with said desk also having, amongst other things, a disc-like device on a choker, and a rod-like device.

The young man was about nineteen, with a messy mop of black hair, his handsome, if rather lugubrious, features were marred by a jagged scar on his forehead, like a lightning bolt, as well as rather sunken eyes. These sunken eyes were shared by the woman, who also had short, brown hair, and a face that would have been considered beautiful, had it not been for the usually-apathetic or morbid expressions that were on it normally, though the blissful repose helped soften up features hardened by life before and in Roanapur. Massive scars were on their necks, like a perverse necklace of keloid tissue.

As light entered through the window, the pair stirred gently. The young woman opened her eyes first, and then her smile widened a little. She closed her eyes briefly, inhaling the scent of her lover through her nostrils, savouring it like a bouquet of flowers, before she sighed in satisfaction. She clambered off the bed, just in time for the young man to open his eyes, and get a wonderful view of her callipygian rear.

What followed was a conversation nobody else would hear. It was a conversation carried on by a special link between them, a link they had shared since the incident that gave them the scars on their throats, an incident that had robbed them of their voices, and almost their lives.

 _Morning, Rica. Sleep well?_ the young man asked, his thoughts heavy with sleepiness.

The woman smiled. _Very well given last night, Hal. If we weren't mute, the neighbours would be complaining._

 _Not that we really have any neighbours, which is just as well_ , Hal said. _Between our business and our pleasure, well_ …

Frederica 'Rica' Sawyer chuckled mutely. Dealing with bodies, especially live ones, was a noisy business. Especially as her weapon of choice was a chainsaw. Which is far harder than it sounds: chainsaws are dangerous enough to use even when they are being used for their intended purpose of cutting through wood. They had a tendency to kick back in a way that would possibly end up with the user getting a face (or another body part) filled with chainsaw, not an amenable state of affairs as one would imagine. Being used as a weapon, despite what Hollywood would tell you, was even more dangerous than using it as intended. But Rica (only Hal could call her that) could swing that thing like Leatherface or Ash Williams. Not that she generally had much call to use it as a weapon.

Hal's weapon of choice could be called a cattle prod, in the same way that a modern battleship could be considered a boat. He walked with a limp (courtesy of a gunfight he and Rica got caught up in during their formative years in Roanapur), and he used a walking stick whenever he walked abroad. Said stick could also be used as a baton, or as an electroshock weapon with a number of settings, including 'Defecate' (he got the idea for that setting from watching an episode of _Bottom_ that Chang had sent him a tape of(1)), 'Knock-Out', 'Defibrillate', 'Heart-Stopper', 'Char-Broil', and, at its strongest setting, 'Thunderstruck'. The only human victim of that last setting…well, Bao still griped about the smell of barbequed human flesh and excrement in the courtyard of the Yellow Flag, and how it took him days to find all the bits.

Balalaika had wanted to replicate the walking stick for sale on the black market, the wily Russian having a hand in weapons sales, but sadly, Hal could only produce a few more, partly because magic was involved in the creation of them, and it took time and too many rare materials to create them. So Balalaika was content to keep the walking sticks for her own men. Hal called his Mjolnir. It may not have been a hammer, but whatever.

 _Incidentally, apparently Revy nearly shot the hell out of Rock yesterday. They managed to kiss and make up, well, figuratively speaking. I thought that guy was a bit of a wimp, albeit one who manages to kick arse when push comes to shove, but someone who's able to stare down Revy when she's in one of her 'Charles Whitman Fever' moods has got to have titanium balls_ , Hal said as he got up and stretched.

Rica looked like she was about to call bullshit, before she said, _When did you hear this?_

 _When I was out getting the take-away_ , Hal said. _I ran into them both just after Watsup let them go. Rock did most of the talking. I'm glad Revy didn't shoot him. Apparently things have been tense since they were sent to retrieve stuff from that sunken sub. But now, Revy likes him, I think. I know Balalaika does. She's got that look in her eyes that she had when she talks to me and some of her men_.

Rica scoffed. _She sent us the bodies of some fools she had interrogated recently. Last I heard, she intends to liquidate the Columbian Cartels soon._

Hal frowned. _That's weird. I think the Lagoon Company have to do a job for them today, last I heard from Dutch. I think they had to pick up some heroin or something. Hopefully, Balalaika won't turn on them. She's nice to those she likes, and is polite and courteous to everyone else, save for outright enemies. If you're her enemy, you might as well bend over and kiss your arse goodbye. I prefer dealing with her than Revy, though. Revy's like a bottle of nitroglycerine with tits_.

Rica snorted at his frequent and not inaccurate assessment of Revy 'Two-Hands', infamous for her skilled gunplay. While Hal was on relatively good terms with the mercurial gunwoman, Revy was known for a hair-trigger temper, and a bad relationship with Bao of the Yellow Flag bar, partly because Bao blamed Revy for whatever happened when a massive gunfight or something happened. Rock, whose real name was Rokuro Okajima (Hal had to admit, Dutch was right: 'Rock' was a punchier and cooler name), caused one of those when the company he once worked for tried to have him murdered, and a disc he had retrieved, when Rock first joined the Lagoon Company. Well, he was kidnapped by Revy.

Rebecca 'Revy Two-Hands' Lee was not an easy person to get to know. While when calm, and not having anyone pry into her past, she was quite amiable, she also was quite volatile (to say the least), mercurial, and prone to frequent acts of physical violence. She was dangerous enough when swearing her head off and firing off her handguns like something out of a John Woo movie, but when she got serious and quite with her guns out…well, that was the time to bend over backwards and kiss your arse goodbye, and hope that you weren't the person who pissed her off. Hal knew that Dutch called that state 'Charles Whitman Fever', after the notorious mass murderer.

Thankfully, Hal had never encountered Revy in the grips of that state, but she was lethal enough when she lost her temper. He could consider the Chinese-American a friend, but she was a volatile enough woman even to her friends and comrades. Only Dutch or Balalaika could ever consistently calm her down. Hal actually preferred the company of Benny and Dutch. Benny was closer to a normal guy than Dutch or Revy, and Dutch, despite his ruthlessness, was a nice guy, once you got past the whole 'scary big black man who claimed to be a Vietnam veteran' thing. And from what he saw of Rock, Hal liked Rock too, though he reckoned that, if Rock survived beyond his first few months in Roanapur, it'd be a miracle.

Revy, however, was freaked out by the fact that Hal was a wizard, and knew magic. The Statute of Secrecy was looser here in Roanapur than in most other places in the world, so they could get away with more things here. And in a town filled with strange criminals, magic was just seen as another advantage…as long as you could survive.

Hal had a most unusual teacher, though, and it was this teacher that allowed him to tutor Rica. That, plus some books their most frequent customer and former boss Mr Chang, as well as Balalaika, smuggled in, helped them become proficient in magic. Not that they used it much. Overspecialisation did tend to become a weakness, after all…

* * *

As Rica went about her grisly work, whistling beneath her surgical mask as she sawed through the limbs of the latest idiot to piss off Balalaika, Hal heard the buzzer for the 'service door' ring out. He sighed, and went over to the door, and opened it, still in his own scrubs.

"Hi, Sawyer and Sawyer!" the Taiwanese enforcer said with a grin. She was a buxom young woman with dark-hair and a frequent smile on her face and a cheerful demeanour, employed by Chang of the Triad. Unfortunately, her broken English made her sound like a bad Chinese stereotype. "How you two? You busy?" Hal shrugged. "You put translation charm on, yes? I sound like retard in English."

Hal sighed, before he cast the charm on himself (thank Merlin for wandless magic), remembering to set it to Taiwanese Hokkien. He then gestured for her to go ahead. " _Oh, thank God for that. I hate sounding like an idiot_ ," Shenhua said. " _Anyway, I got news from the boss. Mr Chang told me that we've got wizards from England sniffing around, including some old fuck with a long beard and twinkling eyes. We used Occlumency just in case, but they're looking for Harry Potter._ "

Hal felt a chill at hearing that name. His old name. There was a blackboard near the door, and while he had the electrolarynx, he rarely used it while on the job, in case it got filthy. Instead, he scrawled, rather messily, on the blackboard, _Anyone else?_

" _Some greasy-haired prick with a big nose and a pretty sharp tongue_ ," Shenhua said with a shrug. " _Called himself 'severest snake' or something. Seriously, these British wizards have stupid names. There were a couple that looked like cops. They had the look._ "

Hal gave her a thumbs up. He then scrawled on the blackboard, _Thanks, Shenhua_. _Looks like we'll be having visitors soon. But try to stall them for as long as possible if they try to get more out of you. Has Mr Chang told Balalaika?_

Shenhua peered at the blackboard. The translation charm was for spoken rather than written languages, so she read it over, before saying, " _Yeah, he rang her up to warn her. Anyway, I thought I'd let you know. Oh, and they tried to warn us about some supposed Dark Lord's followers. That snake-faced fuckhead Balalaika mentioned? Full of Malt, or something?"_ Shenhua said. " _The one whose followers have the tacky tattoo showing a skull fellating a snake?"_

Hal snorted at Shenhua's assessment. He then wrote on the blackboard, _It's Voldemort. If he or his Death Eaters come here… give them a Roanapur welcome, okay?_

Shenhua grinned viciously. " _It'll be my pleasure. I'll see you later, okay, Sawyer. Give my regards to your brother._ " Hal didn't bother to correct her. He'd find it amusing when she learned the truth later.

As Shenhua left, Hal returned to where Rica was still dealing with the bodies. On her glance at him from behind her goggles, he said, via their link, _British wizards are nosing around, including that old goat Dumbledore_.

Rica snickered quietly behind her mask, her electrolarynx currently not being worn. She beckoned Hal closer, and then pulled down her mask, and hissed in a hoarse whisper, little more than her breath being shaped by her lips and tongue, " _Then we will have to give them a suitable welcome, shan't we?_ "

Hal chuckled. He had to admit, he was looking forward to it. Soon, they would rue the day they crossed the Sawyer Twins…once known as Harry James Potter…and Hydra Delphini Lestrange…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, here you have it. Harry's shacked up with Frederica Sawyer, but his past has come back to haunt him. Then again, maybe he has come back to haunt his past…and Frederica's.**

 **Now, those of you who read** ** _Killing Floor_** **'s first chapter will notice a LOT of changes, not least of which is Sawyer having a rather wizardly name. While writing** ** _Killing Floor_** **, I actually came up with the idea that Sawyer was actually Bellatrix's Squib lovechild. I thought it a good idea. Whether or not she is Voldemort's daughter (a concept I have already visited in** ** _Underground's Champion_** **, my** ** _Undertale_** **crossover) or Rodolphus Lestrange's daughter, I haven't decided yet, though I put in Delphini as her middle name as a sly nod to a certain character.**

 **I also made Harry/Hal mute as a plot point we will get to later. I wanted them to have a bond that made them like a certain pair of creepy murderous twins who may or may not appear later. The electrified walking stick could be considered to be inspired by a number of similar devices. Reno's Electro-Rod from** ** _Final Fantasy VII_** **, Gilgamesh von Wulfenbach's lightning projector in** ** _Girl Genius_** **(especially in volume 7), and, as we will see in the annotations, Richie Rich's faulty souped-up cattle prod from** ** _Bottom_** **.**

 **Also, given a suggestion in the reviews of the original version of the chapter in** ** _The Cauldron_** **, I decided to include Harry and Sawyer meeting Roberta. I also decided to use the anime's timeline rather than the manga, as I wanted Revy and Rock to be on better terms by the point of Roberta's arrival.**

 **1.** ** _Bottom_** **is a rather crass British sitcom by the late Rik Mayall and Adrian Edmondson about a pair of rather crude, violent flatmates (Richie Rich, no relation to the comic book character, and Eddie Hitler, again, no relation) and their misadventures. With a lot of violent slapstick and cringe comedy, it can be an acquired taste, but can be hilarious. A running gag in the Halloween episode** ** _Terror_** **is Richie wielding a massive but faulty cattle prod that, every time he uses it, it causes HIM to shit himself. And if you think THAT is bad, wait until you get later into the episode, which involves a Brussel Sprouts concoction that knocks the eater out and gives them literally burning farts for ages.**


	67. Disquiet Chapter 2

**Well, I'm glad for the response to my somewhat more polished _Black Lagoon_ crossover. Here's the second chapter, which involves Roberta. I'm hoping to find a way to work her into the story proper, beyond her initial appearance.**

 **Anyway, the poll from the previous chapter, despite it being only up for a short time, has pretty much spoken. We're not going to make Sawyer an older version of Delphini, she'll just be Bellatrix's child with Rodolphus Lestrange. A new poll is up on my profile, though, relating to this story again. While my initial idea for the story was to have a strict Harry/Sawyer pairing, I'm considering adding Shenhua to it, perhaps even going down the harem route. The only Potterverse character I am considering will be Tonks, and that needs to be thought of, and the only other _Black Lagoon_ pairing I'm considering other than Shenhua is Roberta, though that needs some thought. So I'll post the new poll when I post this new chapter. It'll be on my profile, and this one will be kept up longer.**

* * *

 _ **DISQUIET**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **MAGIC AND MAID**

Hal had, with Rica, decided to have a drink at the Yellow Flag that evening, hoping that would put off any would-be wizarding interference. Outside of their work clothes, dressed in gear that would have been called Goth fashion by those not in the know, they were virtually unrecognisable, save to the few who actually knew them (Dutch, Chang, Bao and Balalaika being amongst those fortunate few, along with the Rip-Off Church). Hal and Rica did occasional repair work for Bao, to help mitigate the costs of repairs for his bar. Bao was grateful, and Hal and Rica effectively had unlimited credit, though they didn't abuse it. While they weren't afraid to have hard drink, the dangers of Roanapur meant that drunkenness was not a desirable state.

"Hey, over here!" called out Dutch as they entered the Yellow Flag. They spotted the burly black man and his crew…plus an addition, at a table near the door. There was Revy, dressed, as usual, in a tank top and jean shorts that did little to hide her superb figure. Her Oriental features were framed by black hair tied up in a ponytail. She looked good, but her personality was another matter entirely. Benny was handsome in a geeky way, messy blonde hair framing his face, spectacles in front of his eyes. Rock was dressed, rather awkwardly, in business get up, albeit a bit rumpled. A blonde-haired boy was seated there as well, looking more than a little sulky.

Hal fished out his electrolarynx after pulling a couple of chairs across from a nearby table. " _Dutch_ ," he buzzed, his voice given a Cyberman-like tone by the electrolarynx(1). " _What is it?_ "

"I just wanted to give you a warning about something. Word on the street is that some strange types are looking for you."

"I know Hal, but who's that in the goth gear, his sister?" Revy asked.

Hal and Rica snorted. Rica then pressed the disc on her choker, activating it. " _I am Frederica, his lover. We are related, but very distantly. You know us locally as the Sawyer Twins._ "

Revy and Benny stared at them in shock, while Rock merely looked confused. "Umm, who?"

"The Sawyer Twins are…well, local legends," Benny said in awe. "For the past five years, they've worked as cleaners, mostly for the Triads, but they're actually freelance, so anyone who has a job for them, they'll do that job. They're cleaners. They generally clean up some of the more messy places when things go really bad. Like a shootout or something. But they also dispose of bodies…even when they're still alive and kicking. Sometimes, they deal with the bodies in a way to send a message."

"Wouldn't be as tough as Roberta," the boy said sullenly.

"Oi, Hal," Revy snapped. "Does Chinglish know?"

She meant Shenhua, mocking Shenhua's poor grasp of speaking English. Shenhua had a tendency to call Revy by the slur 'Twinkie' in return, as an insult on Revy being Asian-American: yellow on the outside, white on the inside. She also called Revy a whore, given Revy's outfit, but Hal personally thought that Shenhua herself couldn't talk, given the amount of leg she showed with her qipao.

Hal shook his head, and Revy smirked. "Oh, I am so going to hold that over her if she finds out."

" _And the kid?_ " Hal asked.

"Claims to be Garcia Lovelace, heir to the Lovelace family, one of the richest families in South America, or they used to be," Dutch said. "They reside in Venezuela, but have had problems with Columbian criminals for some time. We think the Columbians who hired us are up to something screwy. Speaking of screwy, just after we came back from picking him up, we found a couple of wizards waiting for us. Looked like a couple of cops, well, in terms of how they acted, though they looked pretty weird. One looked like Frankenstein's Monster with a weird eye after he lost a battle with a Great White Shark, and the other was a woman with purple hair. Kept asking about someone called Harry Potter, as well as Hydra Lestrange. Anyway, are you the one they're looking for?"

" _They seem to think so_ ," Hal said. " _Did they give names?_ "

"The man called himself Moody," Benny supplied. "The woman said she was Tonks, but I'm guessing that's a last name, because she got pissed with Moody when he called her Nymphadora."

Revy snorted. "With a name like that, I ain't surprised. Seriously, what names do you guys give each other in not-so-Merry Old England?"

" _Don't blame me. The Purebloods of Magical Britain have a gene pool about as shallow as a puddle_ ," Hal snarked. " _Thanks, Dutch_."

Dutch nodded. "You're welcome, but they didn't seem like the sort of guys who'd take 'no' for an answer. Watch your back."

" _Don't have to tell me twice. Look, Rica and I are just going to have a nice drink at the bar_ ," Hal said. " _See ya_."

Hal and Rica walked over to the bar, and Bao looked up, and nodded. "The usual?" Hal nodded. The pair of them sat down, while Bao made up a Cuba Libre for both of them. As he served them, someone sat down next to Hal. He frowned when he realised that the person was wearing a dress. And not just any dress, but a rather elegant maid outfit.

"Kind sir," the young woman said to Bao, her soft voice having a South American accent. "May I have a glass of milk?"

Bao snorted. He did have milk, but mostly for cocktails rather than to drink. "We don't serve milk here. And don't bother asking for water either. This is a bar. You know, for drinking booze? Do they have those back home?"

Hal found himself glancing at her. So, in a full maid outfit, she had been carrying a rather hefty suitcase marked with stickers from South America, and she had an umbrella. Which, he realised, had a rather thick point, and…was that some sort of trigger? For more than unfurling an umbrella, he wagered. She wore large glasses that all but concealed her eyes when the light hit them, and had a pair of plaits of her dark hair, one for each side of her head. She looked rather cute, but something about her sent his instincts screaming, especially as there had been too many mentions of South America lately. Something told him she had something to do with Dutch's latest job. Her expression was somewhat flat, and that too had him on edge.

Noticing his scrutiny, the maid looked at him as Bao placed a mug of beer in front of her. "Yes?"

Hal brought the electrolarynx to his throat. " _You're looking a bit conspicuous in here, you know that?_ " Hal asked.

"It's my intention," the maid said, with chilling honesty. "Please, tell me. Do you know of whereabouts of the headquarters of the Manislera Cartel?"

Hal's eyes narrowed. " _Maybe. Though it may be a moot point. Why do you ask?_ "

"I have come to find someone. I am a servant in the employ of the Lovelace family."

Hal felt a chill going down his back at that, and he was sure Rica felt the same way. The maid may look fragile, but Hal got the feeling that she was tough as hell. And the Lagoon Company, given that they had a boy who may be the heir to the Lovelace family, might be in her sights.

Just then, Revy stormed up, and snapped, "Bao, I need a Coke!"

"What, did you climb onto the wagon or something, Revy?" Bao snorted.

"It's for the brat, dipshit," Revy snapped, before she saw the maid staring at her. "What?"

"It's nothing," the maid said.

Revy seemed about to snap off a retort, before she noticed Hal. "Oi, Hal, is this another of those British fuckwits?"

" _No. Anyway, she didn't sound British, didn't she?_ " Hal asked. He gestured with his eyes at the maid, and then at her umbrella. " _She's a maid working for the Lovelaces, looking for some friends in the Manislera Cartel. Maybe you could point her in the right direction?_ " He hoped that Revy should be able to get the hint, without tipping off the maid.

Revy did seem to get the hint, because she said, "She'll have to wait. I ain't a bloody tourist map." She then retreated.

"Are you having trouble from the British?" the maid asked.

Hal shrugged. " _A little. I am Hal, and this is Frederica._ "

"Roberta."

A name the Garcia boy mentioned. But before Hal could think about the matter, he heard a nasal voice say, "I am looking for Hal."

" _Who's asking?_ " Hal asked, annoyed, swivelling in his seat. The man who stood there was tall, with lank greasy hair framing a saturnine, dour face with a large nose. Hal knew the man had to be a wizard. In fact, he was pretty sure he knew which one. Thankfully, he seemed to be dressed in normal clothes, in black trousers and a grey shirt.

The man looked him up and down, before saying, "Come with me now."

Hal, after a moment, snarked, " _Whatever you're selling, I don't want any. Now bugger off and go suck an old goat's cock._ "

Laughter burst out around the Yellow Flag. Hal looked at the angered expressions on the man's face, and knew he had hit close to the mark. He wondered how long before he got angry enough to whip out his wand. "Enough lip from you, _Potter_ ," the man snarled, enunciating the last word as if it were the vilest of expletives.

Dutch snorted. "Wow, nobody's that dumb to try a kidnapping right in the Yellow Flag. When was the last dipshit who tried it, Bao?"

"Two years ago. One of Chen's men tried to take a tourist," Bao said, before looking at Hal. "Didn't you deal with him?"

" _Yeah, we did, didn't we?_ " Hal reminisced. " _Good times. Now, let's look at this logically. You're about to start shit, in a bar where half the clientele, plus the bartender, are armed to the teeth. Now, are your critical thinking centres that atrophied by rampant inbreeding that you're going to try and attack in such a situation?_ "

It was then that the door burst open, and a group of thugs that Hal recognised as being from the Manislera Cartel strode in. They pushed the irate wizard aside, causing him to stumble. Hal recognised the leader, Abrego, amongst them. " _Roberta_ ," Hal said. " _You said you wanted to meet the Manislera Cartel?_ "

"Indeed," she said, swivelling in the seat. "May I help you?"

Abrego said, "Funny, _chica_ , that's what we were gonna ask you. Word on the street is that some crazy broad in a maid costume had been going around asking about us. So we thought we'd come and see you in person. You stick out like a sore thumb, what with an outfit right out of a TV drama. So, what's your game?"

 _Rica_ , Hal sent over their link. _Time to go, I think_.

Rica nodded imperceptibly. _What about the moron?_

 _Portkey into the harbour_ , Hal sent back. Rica nodded, and stood after finishing her drink, and Bao, taking notice, looked ready to get into hiding. They walked (well, Hal limped) over to where the Lagoon Company were seated.

The wizard stormed over, only for Hal to take the Coke can that Garcia had been drinking from, turning it into a Portkey, and throwing it at the man, who vanished. " _Time to go_ ," Hal said quietly. " _Last orders. I think your maid has come for you, Garcia, and she's about to go all Schwarznegger on them._ "

"What?" Garcia demanded, as Hal pulled out a scarf (which he only had for situations like this), and turned that into a Portkey.

"What's this?" Rock asked quietly.

" _A Portkey, like the one I used on that idiot. I've given him a dip in the harbour to clean out his hair. This one will only take us just outside. Once everything's died down, hopefully, we'll be able to deal with Roberta._ "

"You think she'll win?" Revy asked sceptically. "The brat was telling tall tales about her, and…"

" _She's a killer, Revy, I know the look. Hold on._ " The group touched the scarf, and soon…

* * *

…they were outside.

Garcia was staring at Hal. "What was that?"

" _Magic._ " Suddenly, the loud concussive boom of a shotgun echoed from within the Yellow Flag. " _Whereas that's a shotgun concealed in an umbrella, I think_ ," Hal said.

"But…that's not like Roberta at all!" Garcia protested.

" _Dutch…do you have Balalaika's number?_ " Hal asked. The burly black man nodded, and handed over his mobile. " _Thanks._ "

The phone was answered in only a couple of rings. " _Hello, Dutch?_ " came the distinctive Slavic purr of Balalaika.

" _No, it's me. Sorry to bother you, Balalaika, but we've got a bit of a situation here._ " Hal winced as more gunfire erupted from within the Yellow Flag, punctuating his point. Patrons fled.

" _Ah, Hal. Yes, I am aware. Of what situation do you speak? The British mages poking their noses in, or something else?_ "

" _The Lovelace kid._ "

" _Ah. What's the situation?_ "

" _The kid is safe, along with the Lagoon Company, Rica and me. The Columbian Cartel and a maid working for the Lovelaces are fighting it out in the Yellow Flag. I'm putting my money on the maid. Call it a gut feeling._ "

" _Yes, I know the one. While she works under the assumed name of Roberta, her true name is Rosarita Tisneros, the Bloodhound of Florencia. She is a former FARC guerrilla, the revolutionary force of Columbia, now working for the Lovelaces in Venezuela. She has either been sent by Diego Lovelace or has come of her own accord to rescue Garcia. Unless the Cartel prevails, remain there. I will come with some of my men. Please, give me to Dutch._ "

" _Sure._ "

As Dutch spoke to Balalaika on the phone, Revy scowled. "So, that bitch was Roberta?"

" _Apparently. Ex-guerrilla._ "

"But…that can't be Roberta! It's…it's not like her to kill…" Garcia murmured in horror.

Rica activated her electrolarynx as Rock tried to comfort the boy. " _She seems to be holding her own pretty well. Hiding a shotgun in an umbrella is neat. It reminds me of how Georgi Markov was murdered by a ricin-containing pellet from an airgun concealed in an umbrella(_ _2)_ _._ "

There was a brief pause, before suddenly, there was a massive explosion. Then, out of the burning doorway strode the figure of Roberta.

"I'm kinda creeped out here," Rock said. "You said she was going to go all Schwarznegger on us, Hal? Well, she's acting like the Terminator."

 _Ha ha_ , Hal thought sardonically. She was intimidating, he had to give her that. Though she had nothing on Rica when something really pissed her off.

Roberta walked forward, unhurriedly, before Dutch held up a hand. "Roberta, was it? Someone wants to talk to you about this."

"There is nothing to talk about. If you value your lives, the young master will come with me."

"Look, the local Russian mafia boss just wanted to talk to you," Dutch said with a shrug. "As far as she is concerned, the kid's yours to bring home. She was going to act against the Manislera Cartel anyway. And if they're all dealt with, we'll let you have the kid." He shot Revy a look when she seemed about to interject.

Roberta, after some consideration, took the proffered phone. Hal knew, though, that the night was still fairly young. And he still had the wizards to deal with…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, yeah. We've resolved the Roberta arc a bit more quickly than in canon. Okay, we haven't seen as much of Roberta being fucking awesome, but that's what happens. I hope to have more of Roberta in the story if I can justify it.**

 **1\. For the** ** _Doctor Who_** **stories** ** _The Moonbase_** **and** ** _The Tomb of the Cybermen_** **, Peter Hawkins used a primitive form of electrolarynx to provide the voices of the Cybermen. It was actually more like a false palate that could buzz on cue. Unfortunately, Hawkins recalled in interviews that it had a bad habit of clogging up with saliva. This method was also used by Hawkins for the Cyberplanner in** ** _The Wheel in Space_** **, with Roy Skelton using a different method for the Cybermen proper.**

 **2\. No, this really happened. It was a somewhat infamous incident, where Georgi Markov, a Bulgarian defector who was a playwright and novelist, was murdered in 1978. The assassin is considered to have used a special airgun concealed in an umbrella to fire a small pellet containing ricin into Markov's leg. He died shortly thereafter. Roberta's weapon, while much less subtle, is considerably more badass.**


	68. Quoth the Raven Chapter 1

**Ugh, it was a mistake doing _Disquiet_. Because suddenly, I wanted to do another _Black Lagoon_ crossover with a Harry/Sawyer pairing, only divorced from the Potterverse, for the most part. I sought out a story so that I could make it different enough from _Disquiet_ , and ironically found it in yet another of whitetigerwolf's challenges, as well as one of sakurademonalchemist's stories.**

 **The challenge from whitetigerwolf was the Animagus Lover challenge, where a crossover story had to have Harry becoming an Animagus, being stuck in his form, and becoming a companion of a crossover pairing, before revealing his true self. I also took cues from sakurademonalchemist's crossover with _The Avengers_ , which was called _Bruja_ , featuring a female Harry becoming a cat who became Bruce Banner's companion. The original title was _Quoth the Raven: Nevermore_ , but GenkaiFan already has a fic of that title, so I decided to use an abridged version. I thought Sawyer might be a fan of Poe, and a raven as Harry's Animagus form was a good one, given its associations with death and carrion, things Sawyer is also associated with.**

 **Whether this becomes a full fic or not, well, we shall see. Unlike _Disquiet_ , I hope to have Harry become a moral compass for Sawyer, in much the same way as Rock becomes one for Revy. I just don't want this to be a copy of _Disquiet_ with the serial numbers filed off. Hopefully, I can make it its own story. Already, I had one interesting bit in the second chapter: Harry, in his raven form, gets shot at by Revy. So he shits in her eyes from above. And adds insult to injury later by doing the same thing to her hair as she's entering the Yellow Flag. Let's face it, Revy's a cool character, but a decent person she is not.**

 **Hopefully, you'll enjoy this...**

* * *

 ** _QUOTH THE RAVEN_...**

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **CLEANER AND RAVEN**

People look down on scavengers in the wild, those who make a living off the remains left behind by others. But this is actually something to be admired. It is the scavengers who make use of what was discarded, cleaning it up and converting it into something new. They are the unwanted but necessary cogs of a wonderful natural machine.

In human society, too, scavengers and carrion feeders are considered to be at the bottom of the ladder. And yet, they fulfil a role in society. In criminal society, cleaners are considered a necessity. They clean up the messy business involved in murder. Sometimes, they are even called upon to do the deed themselves, to send a message in messy mortal remains.

In a place like Roanapur, a town infamous as a den of vice and violence, cleaners are a necessity. And a rising star in the field is one who, while an independent operator, does much of her work for the local Triads. Not that most people know her. She almost invariably meets her clientele and victims dressed in surgical scrubs, like some back-alley surgeon. Though most back-alley doctors are in the profession of extending life, whereas the cleaner generally did the opposite.

Her name was Frederica Sawyer, though she was mostly known as Sawyer the Cleaner. Most of her clients didn't even know she is a woman. Then again, she wasn't the most social of people. Even when she walked abroad, free of her scrubs, she didn't like to draw that much attention to herself, beyond her fashion choices. That wasn't to say she didn't want a friend. She just didn't know how to go about it. The nearest thing she had to a friend was the Taiwanese assassin Shenhua, and she hadn't seen Sawyer beneath her scrubs.

Being a cleaner was a lonely profession by default. And Sawyer's past meant that she was doubly so. She was damaged goods, and it was hard to make a connection with others. But soon, she would find a connection in the most unlikely of places…

* * *

If people considered Sawyer's interests in film, TV and literature, they would think that her tastes ran to the worst excesses of horror and crime thrillers about serial killers. This was not wholly true: she actually read a wide variety of books and watched a variety of TV shows and movies. It was partially a function of her dark childhood: she had frequently read to escape to other worlds, something her otherwise apathetic mother encouraged.

That being said, she enjoyed reading horror stories and watching horror films. One of her first experiences with horror movies was sneaking in to watch a showing of _The Shining_ , and while she would later consider the original Stephen King book to be superior, there was no denying that Stanley Kubrick knew how to keep atmosphere up. That, and Jack Nicholson was fucking terrifying.

Though in retrospect, Nicholson had nothing on her father. At least Nicholson was paid to act like a psycho. With her father, there was no acting involved.

As much as she enjoyed the blood-soaked viscera in many horror tales, she also liked less blood-soaked and more disquieting, disturbing tales. While she didn't like the dry writing style and racial attitudes of HP Lovecraft, there was no denying that the man knew how to create horror. Some of the stuff Roald Dahl wrote for adults was surprisingly horrific(1). She also enjoyed some of the great Victorian horror novels, like Mary Shelley's _Frankenstein: The Modern Prometheus_ , or _Dracula_ by Bram Stoker. And there were, of course, the works of Edgar Allan Poe. _The Pit and the Pendulum, The Tell-Tale Heart_ , and, of course, his famous poem _The Raven_.

She actually liked ravens. Sawyer thought them magnificent and intelligent, even if they were, like her (figuratively), carrion-eaters. Ravens and crows were amongst the smartest of birds. And they were considered harbingers of death, and even of gods. The Norse god Odin was said to have a pair of ravens, Huginn and Muninn, 'Thought' and 'Memory', heralds and spies who brought him news from across the world. In Greco-Roman mythology, they were the heralds of Apollo and considered good luck. The ravens of the Tower of London were also considered good luck, and if they ever left the Tower of London, the Kingdom of England would perish. In the Pacific Northwest of North America, the Raven is revered as creator and trickster by the indigenous peoples of that area.

Of course, in Roanapur, birds of all kinds were considered target practise by the trigger-happy population. Ravens and crows were considered pests, and people thought nothing of shooting them. Sawyer found that irritating, but could do little, though one time, when she was brought one rather annoying man who liked to shoot those birds to make an example of, she took her time dismembering him.

One particularly hot day in a Roanapur spring, Sawyer had come back home from groceries shopping (her apartment being an adapted office in the meat-packing factory that she ran as a cover for her true business) to find a raven squatting near her door. She frowned. It didn't look injured, but it looked exhausted, even starved. In fact, if she didn't know any better, it wasn't a species of raven native to Roanapur. Not that she was any kind of ornithologist, but she had a feeling. Plus, it had a weird white patch above one eye, like a lightning bolt.

It opened one eye blearily at her, and she was struck by its colour. Again, she wasn't an ornithologist, but she was sure no raven had emerald eyes as clear and as beautiful as those. The raven croaked weakly, plaintively.

After a moment, Sawyer opened the door and walked inside, noting with curiosity that the raven didn't startle and try to get away from her as she approached. In fact, as she walked inside, the raven managed to get to its feet and hopped inside before the door closed. She wondered briefly is its exhaustion and starved look was an act, but she noticed it sagging. Either the raven was a good actor, or it really was in a bit of a bad way.

Sighing quietly, she walked further through, wondering if the raven would follow her. After getting her shopping dealt with, she fished around in the fridge for some diced meat which she put on a plate, and then filled a small bowl with water. She retraced her steps to find the raven not far from where she left it. Silently, she placed the water and food down in front of it, almost like a votive offering.

The raven seemed surprised, before it went, surprisingly, for the water first. After a quick drink, it then attacked the meat hungrily. Judging by the way it did so, it hadn't eaten for some time. She even had a brief concern that it might choke, a surprising sentiment for an animal she had only just met, an animal she had fed and watered on a whim.

The raven soon finished, washing down its hasty meal with more water, before it looked at her with, she thought, a look of gratitude. It croaked a couple of cries that oddly had a sound of gratitude to them. Almost as if it was saying thanks.

Sawyer found that oddly endearing. While generally a rather shy and distant woman, she wasn't immune to whims, especially outside of her professional life. And while she normally wouldn't be in the habit of taking in stray animals, there was something about this raven that intrigued her, piqued her interest.

A smirk came upon her features. Ravens were heralds of death. Maybe she could add to her mystique by having this one as a pet, visible when she received her clients.

With that, she fished out her electrolarynx, and pressed it to her scarred throat. In her Cyberman-like buzzing tone, she rasped, " _I think I will keep you. But first, you need a name._ " She considered it, before she hit on a perfect name. " _Vincent._ "

There were a few reasons she chose this name. The first was that St Vincent of Saragossa, a Christian martyr she had read about, whose corpse was actually defended by ravens from wild animals trying to devour it. Supposedly, his grave and the shrine built over it was guarded by ravens for a long time, and even his body, when transferred to Lisbon, was escorted by a flock of ravens. The second and more obvious reason was after Vincent Price, the famed horror movie actor who had appeared in adaptations of Poe's works.

The raven in front of her seemed to consider it, before it croaked in what sounded like assent. It flew into the air, and landed on her shoulder. Or at least it tried to. It unfortunately fumbled the landing, either out of weakness from starvation or clumsiness, and crashed to the tiled floor with a squawk of annoyance.

Sawyer sighed quietly. Well, she should have known there would be something…

* * *

One of the few things he remembered from his past life was something one of his friends once talked to him about. Everything else was a distant fog, even his own name. But he remembered a bushy-haired girl telling him something that confused him at the time, and confused another friend of his.

" _Zhuang Zhou, a famous Chinese philosopher, once dreamed he was a carefree butterfly, flitting around, ignorant of his time as Zhuang. But he woke up, and remembered the dream. He wondered whether he was Zhuang, having just finished dreaming he was a butterfly, or a butterfly, beginning to dream about being Zhuang._ "

At the time, he had dismissed it as confusing. It sounded like something another girl would have said, a girl whose name he couldn't quite remember, but had something to do with the Moon. But now, with it being one of the few scraps of his past life he could remember with any clarity, it struck home.

It had been a year since the betrayal by those he saved, since he managed to flee the cold stone walls and the demons that patrolled them. Since he fled a country filled with the ungrateful and the capricious. He had slain the monster, and had been called a thief, a murderer, a monster in his own turn.

A deranged fragment from a song he had heard wormed its way through his mind. _Is this the real life, is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality_.

He didn't know exactly where he was. He had been travelling for so long, trapped in the guise of a raven, that a lot of his past life, assuming that wasn't delusion, had been lost in fog. He was fairly sure that he was in Thailand, and a rather dark part of Thailand too. It was a city filled with sin. And yet, this young woman had shown him kindness on a whim when he had hopped into her home, hoping to try and steal some food and water.

She was dressed in a style that could have been considered goth fashion, with a short plaid skirt, a dark shirt with a cross symbol on the front over a long-sleeved jumper that went right up to her palms. He would soon learn that the sleeves concealed scars from what appeared to be self-harm. Her face, framed by a messy mass of dark hair, was pretty, even beautiful, but had a strangely flat, apathetic look to it, not helped by her dull blue eyes, ringed by dark circles that spoke of stress and sleeplessness.

Most noticeable of all, though, was the ragged scar across her throat. A perverse choker of scar tissue that spoke to an injury that could have killed her. Instead, as he learned, it had robbed her of her voice, forcing her to resort to a mechanical mockery that nonetheless seemed as part of this macabre-looking woman as her clothes.

The smell of death was all around her. This was a woman who killed. Being so intimately linked to death allowed him to discern that. And yet, there was something within her more than that. A light within the darkness, some small spark behind those dull, dead eyes that had never gone completely out.

If he was a man dreaming of being a raven, and not the other way around, then perhaps it was time for the man to die in his sleep, and let the raven take his place. A small connection had been made between himself and the woman, and he was grateful for it. He thought about the name she had christened him with: Vincent. Yes, that sounded nice. A lot better than the name that even now only occasionally peeked out from the fog.

A lot better than Harry.

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So…Harry's a raven now. And has become Sawyer's pet. Oh my. I thought that whole Zhuang Zhou thing was perfect for an Animagus who had submerged himself too much in the animal he had turned into.**

 **Now, before you guys say anything, there's probably going to be little, if at all, bashing, at least of the more heroic characters of the Potterverse. Ron and Hermione hadn't betrayed Harry, the Ministry and Gringotts had done so. And yes, they were idiotic enough not to place Animagus suppression charms in Azkaban.**

 **Choosing Harry's name as a raven was actually a little tricky. I didn't want to go for the obvious route of Odin's ravens. I considered using 'Matthew', after Matthew Cable, the character from** ** _Swamp Thing_** **who, after he dies, becomes one of the ravens within the Dreaming in** ** _The Sandman_** **. I even considered Poe, for obvious reasons, before I settled on Vincent for the reasons stated above.**

 **And, of course, the lyrics mentioned above come from** ** _Bohemian Rhapsody_** **by Queen, which I don't own.**

 **1\. No, really! He wasn't just a children's author, he wrote a number of short stories for adults too. Dahl also wrote the screenplay for** ** _You Only Live Twice_** **.**


	69. Quoth the Raven Chapter 2

**With this chapter, _The Cauldron_ has broken the 200K words mark!**

 **Anyway, this second chapter actually had to be revised somewhat, as did the third chapter. I didn't think Vincent/Harry and Sawyer would have reacted as well to the truth coming out as it did, and while they're not exactly at each other's throats in the revised chapters, there's a more realistic tension that needs to be resolved, resolved by everyone's favourite Taiwanese assassin. Don't worry, it's not all doom and gloom. We have some fun at Revy's expense in this chapter, and the third chapter has Leigharch. 'Nuff said. Of course, whether the story goes further than that is another matter...**

* * *

 ** _QUOTH THE RAVEN_...**

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **METAMORPHOSIS**

Over the next couple of weeks, Vincent became a fixture in Sawyer's place of work. She half-expected the raven to eat parts from the bodies she worked on, but he seemed to have a distaste for human flesh. That was odd, but far from the oddest thing about him.

After all, when she revved up her chainsaw for the first time, he didn't try to fly off. In fact, he cringed, and placed his wings to his head in a cartoon-like gesture akin to a human covering their ears from the noise. She didn't even think ravens could do that. And yet, Vincent did. And when he did crap, he did it either over drains, or while perched on the toilet. It made her wonder whether Vincent was once a domesticated raven. Maybe a pet that one of Roanapur's crime bosses imported, but had mistreated. Or maybe his owner had died, and Vincent had no skills to survive in the wild, even in urban areas. He did sometimes fly off through an open window in her apartment for a couple of hours, presumably to exercise his wings, but always returned.

Vincent helped add to her reputation, to her _legend_ , which was part of the reason she had adopted him. Although at times, it felt like the other way around. But ravens' association with being heralds of death helped lend an edge to her mystique as one of the most feared cleaners of Roanapur. Vincent seemed to understand this. Some of her more nervous clients (of those that brought the bodies, living or dead) had been spooked thoroughly when Vincent chose to caw at just the right moment. He even got someone once to piss themselves, which was funny.

Of course, Shenhua was due to come today. She had been dealing with another job on behalf of Mr Chang, the leader of the local Triads, so she hadn't been able to come and see. Of those Sawyer associated with, Shenhua was the closest to being called a friend. The Taiwanese assassin, despite her profession and broken English, had a cheerful and friendly nature to those she liked. When she wasn't on the job and didn't feel insulted, she was pretty likeable.

Though whether she would like the new addition to Sawyer's household, such as it was, was another matter…

* * *

Vincent watched as the door to Sawyer's…workplace opened. He had already made his peace with the fact that Sawyer was a cleaner, one who dealt with the deceased, or the soon-to-be. In that far-off murky dream of life he once had as Harry Potter, he may have objected to it. After all, there was something about her that reminded him of a woman by the name of Bellatrix. But Harry Potter had died in the dreams of a raven. No, he had died earlier than that, when the people he had saved had turned on him, and locked him up in Azkaban when the Horcrux in his head was learned about. Not to mention those Death Eaters he had killed during the final battle.

No, he was fine with her. She had shown him friendship on a whim, adopted him. Broken called to broken, and while he could not make contact with his old friends ever again, he could make new ones. Well, as much as he could as a raven.

Through the door, an extraordinary figure came through, dragging a massive suitcase. It was a tall Asian woman in a Chinese qipao dress, with a short white jacket over it. She was surprisingly buxom for an Asian, and the dress was slit right up to her hips, showing off an impressive amount of leg. Her long dark hair fell across half of her face, which was elegantly made-up. She seemed like one of the more expensive prostitutes one would probably find in Roanapur, save for the fact that she had a band on her leg with holsters for small throwing knives. That, and her deceptively friendly demeanour masked the manner of what Vincent knew to be a predator.

"Hi, Sawyer! I early this time! You okay with that?" she asked in broken English. Sawyer, decked out in scrubs, nodded in acknowledgement. "This moron snitch for Italians. Chang say make mince out of him for spaghetti bolognaise." As she let the suitcase drop on its side to the floor, Shenhua noticed Vincent, and peered at him. "Huh? You have pet bird? Crow? Raven? He have name?"

Sawyer nodded, and then went to a nearby blackboard which she used to communicate with her clients, as her electrolarynx could possibly be clogged up with mess when she did her work. _His name is Vincent_ , Sawyer wrote.

"Ah, Vincent?" Shenhua asked, before strutting over to Vincent. "Hi, Vincent! I'm Shenhua! You beautiful bird. Beautiful eyes. You look after Sawyer, yes?"

Vincent nodded his head, and Shenhua smiled. "You smart bird. Okay, Sawyer, I leave moron with you and Vincent. Enjoy!" And with that, the Asian woman strutted out, waving a friendly goodbye, leaving a helpless man to Sawyer's ministrations…

* * *

In the evening, after dealing with the detritus, Sawyer was sitting at a table, reading, while gently stroking Vincent on his head, Arthur Brown's _Fire_ playing in the background. After a moment's thought, she began speaking, not with her electrolarynx, but just whispering quietly, using only the breath in her lungs and her tongue and lips to shape the words. She did this to Vincent, and he seemed to understand.

" _Shenhua was right. You're a beautiful bird, Vincent_ ," she whispered. " _I wonder, what brought you to me?_ " She looked into his emerald eyes. She could not deny the intelligence in them. " _I would call it divine providence, but…I don't believe in God. Few in this town do. If God exists, then they are apathetic at best, and a capricious and malicious deity who enjoys suffering at worst. I prayed to God to save me from my father many times…but they did nothing. I don't believe in karma, either, just consequences. That man earlier…he fed information from the Triads to the Italians. The Italians are supposedly itching to get to the top of the pile here, wrest it from the Triads and the Russian mafiya._ "

Vincent emitted a noise that could have been a disdainful scoff. Sawyer echoed it. " _Yeah, I know the feeling. Balalaika is ambitious, true, but like Chang, she prefers stability for the most part. But Verrocchio…he just wants to be top dog. I wonder…are you an omen, Vincent? I heard in Celtic tradition that crows and ravens are heralds of war deities like Badb and the Morrigan. I hope not. I like having you around._ "

Vincent seemed to roll his eyes, and Sawyer smiled. " _Yes, I know, stupid feeling_." After a moment, she came to a decision. " _I'm going out for a drink at the Yellow Flag. I'd ask if you'd want to come, but…well, I don't think that'd be a good idea. They make birds target practise here._ "

Vincent seemed a little morose at her decision, but seemed to understand. So, Sawyer closed her book, and went to have a shower and dress herself for a night on the town…

* * *

Vincent couldn't help but have a bad feeling about tonight. He knew Sawyer could handle herself very well on the streets of Roanapur, even without her scrubs. But he had this odd premonition about tonight. So, after she left, he made for the nearest open window (it was high up to deter any would-be burglars) and flew out, wending his way through the Roanapur twilight towards the Yellow Flag.

Through Sawyer talking to him, Vincent had learned a few things about Roanapur, including the chequered history of one of its most popular bars. The Yellow Flag had been established by an ex-soldier from South Vietnam, Bao, and soon became the favoured watering hole of many a malcontent. Fights using fists and guns were frequent, and Bao was said to wield a shotgun to deter most.

Many recent gunfights had been started by a woman of considerable local renown known as 'Revy Two-Hands'. She was a Chinese-American woman who was known around Roanapur as the hired gun of Dutch, the boss of the Lagoon Company. The Lagoon Company were a small group of mercenaries whose only other member was a hacker by the name of Benny. They generally did courier jobs, smuggling illicit items for the various criminals in Roanapur. Drugs, weapons, they even engaged in piracy on occasion. Lately, they had been accepting more jobs from Balalaika, the leader of the local Russian mafiya, known locally as 'Hotel Moscow', especially after being stiffed by one of the minor crime bosses, Chen.

Anyway, Revy was known for a hair-trigger temper and an itchy trigger finger. She had been trained in gunplay by Mr Chang, the most frequent customer of Sawyer's services, but was independent of the Triads. She was ridiculously skilled with using a pair of handguns, one in each hand, hence her cognomen of 'Two-Hands'.

Revy, he was sure, was one of those who had taken a potshot at him when he first arrived in Roanapur. He remembered a sexy-looking part-Chinese woman wearing a tank top and daisy dukes, an elaborate tattoo on one of her shoulders, her dark hair tied up in a ponytail. In revenge for shooting at him, he had dumped his shit in her eyes, and had been amused at the plethora of curses she emitted.

As he settled on a palm tree near the entrance to the Yellow Flag, he saw Sawyer walking in. However, he saw a quartet of people walking up. The first was a burly black man wearing sunglasses. The only hair on his head were his eyebrows and a beard. The second was the very woman he had shit upon. The third was a blonde-haired man with an unshaven face and glasses. The fourth looked Asian, and oddly enough, had a rumpled suit on, sans jacket. White shirt, dark trousers and a tie. He also looked afraid and out of his depth, a young businessman who was now amongst the scum of the Earth.

"…Might as well have a drink while we wait for Balalaika to call," the black man said in a bass rumble. "Don't start any problems, Revy."

"Yeah, yeah, Dutch, I'll be cool." The young woman's English held a strong Brooklyn accent.

So it was Revy who had shot at him, which meant that these four, or at least three of them, were the Lagoon Company. The Japanese was out of place, so he had to wonder why he was here. Still, he couldn't resist another bit of retaliation against Revy, so, with a caw, Vincent swooped out of the darkened skies and shat on Revy's hair.

"GAH! Motherfucking crow! That's the second time one's shit on me!" Revy snarled. "I'll bet it's the same feathered bastard who shit in my eyes! Feathered freak's stalking me!"

"Calm down, Revy. Next time, in future, don't take potshots at animals who aren't attacking you," Dutch said.

"Fuck you, Dutch, how else am I gonna keep my eye in? I've got a new policy: any goddamned crow I see, I'll shoot pre-emptively! They're evil fuckers!"

From his new perch in another tree, Vincent deliberately cawed in a way that sounded like laughter. Revy snarled, "There, you hear that? The black-feathered fucker is laughing at me! You hear me, you evil little shit? You'll be laughing through the new asshole I shoot through you when I see you again!"

The Lagoon Company walked in, Revy wiping the bird shit from her hair as she did so. Vincent waited for a while. He hoped that his premonition was purely paranoia.

But then, about ten minutes later, a group of what looked like soldiers in camouflage moved up, led by a blonde man with sunglasses and a scar that snaked its way up his cheek. He had a bloodthirsty grin on his face. Mercenaries, Vincent thought with a chill. After lighting up a cigarette with a Zippo lighter, the man took a couple of grenades, and then roared, into the bar, "It's time to get this party started! Here's a present for you shitbags!"

Vincent was too late to stop the man from hurling the grenades into the Yellow Flag, paralysed by horror though he was. But the ensuing explosion, and what it could have done to Sawyer, spurred him into action.

He had sat by while someone he liked died. He remembered the face of his godfather, of a werewolf and a shapeshifter, of so many who had perished. It was what had killed the man…no, it wasn't. It was what killed the boy.

The man had slept within the raven. Vincent had thought that the man had died in his sleep, but the sleeper was awakening. He didn't care about the others in here, but Sawyer, if she hadn't been killed by the initial grenade attack, needed him.

So he swooped down behind the soldiers, who were more busy about threats from the front. Well, victims, really. They didn't see the raven shed his feathers and become the Master of Death once more…

* * *

Sawyer cursed silently as she dove behind the bar, chainsaw at the ready. Nearby, Revy 'Two-Hands' (who had come in wiping bird shit off her hair, complaining about vindictive crows) and the Japanese whom she had been having a drinking contest with dived for cover as well behind the bar, while Bao reached for his shotgun and returned fire against the soldiers. "Dammit, Revy, what the hell are your friends doing shooting up my bar?!" Bao snarled.

"Not my friends, Bao, never seen them before," Revy said. She then looked at Sawyer. "Hey, spooky, are you any good with that thing?"

Sawyer reached for her electrolarynx, and pressed it to her throat. " _I can manage_ ," she buzzed.

As Dutch called out to Revy and Benny, Sawyer considered the situation. Could she make her way out? She might need to team up with the Lagoon Company, at least to get out of the bar alive. After that, she would make her own way back home. She could use the chainsaw to deflect bullets, true, but grenades were another matter, and they'd only need to get a lucky shot to hit her, or flank her.

It soon became a moot point when they suddenly heard what sounded like something bursting into flames. And judging by the sound of screams accompanying said flames, what was burning might be people. Sawyer poked her head above the bar to find those mercenaries looking behind them as three of their number burned.

"Hey, who the fuck are you?" snarled their leader as a ragged figure walked through the doors.

He was a scarecrow of a man, thin and scrawny, clad in rags that barely qualified as clothing. His hair was a tangled black mess reaching his shoulders. In fact, some of his hair looked like black feathers. He had glasses askew on his stubble-marred face, behind which emerald eyes burned with fury and insanity held barely in check. And half-hidden by his fringe was a faded scar, not unlike a lightning bolt. And in both of his hands burned a fire that looked diabolical, like it didn't belong on Earth.

And when he spoke, it was little more than a loud rasp, a parody of a voice long-disused, like the croak of a carrion bird with an English accent, but it managed to carry across the room.

"I am the god of hellfire!" he snarled. "And I bring you… ** _FIRE!_** " With that, he flung the fireballs at the mercenaries, unleashing a wave of diabolical fire that consumed them, their screams shut off in seconds, before the flames died down, leaving little behind but ashes.

Sawyer stared. Emerald eyes…a scar that matched that weird colouration…quoting the opening of the very song she had been listening to shortly before coming here. And the fact that his hair seemed to be partly comprised of black, glossy feathers.

Their eyes met, and something flashed in his own. He knew he had been recognised by her. He fled into the darkness outside. Sawyer got up and dashed outside, only to hear nothing, save for a possibly-imagined sound of wings. She didn't know whether to be angry or astonished or grateful.

* * *

When she got back home soon afterwards, she half-expected to see him there. Instead, she got a note confirming what she suspected.

 _Sawyer,_

 _I'm sorry. I didn't mean to deceive you. Thank you for everything you did for me. I hope you find someone to be your friend, someone better than me._

 _Vincent_.

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry has revealed himself to Sawyer while saving her arse, and Revy has gotten shat on. Let's face it, Revy's a cool character, but she's also a bitch with a hair-trigger temper who causes more problems than she has to. I don't hate her, but she's not going to have a good relationship with Harry in this story. And Rock will still have his badass moment: Extra Order still sends the chopper at them when they go to bring the disc to Balalaika.**

 **Now, unlike** ** _Disquiet_** **, Sawyer is NOT going to be Bellatrix's lovechild or indeed related to anyone in Magical Britain. Doesn't mean there aren't other people with connections to the wizarding world in Roanapur…**

 **Incidentally, the lyrics come from Arthur Brown's** ** _Fire_** **. I don't own them, obviously.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	70. Quoth the Raven Chapter 3

**Nothing much to say here. This will be the last chapter of this story posted in _The Cauldron_. Hopefully, it will become a full story. But I didn't want to leave you guys hanging after the cliffhanger from the last chapter of _Quoth the Raven_... posted, plus there's some comedy courtesy of Leigharch. So, here it is.**

* * *

 _ **QUOTH THE RAVEN...**_

 **CHAPTER 3:**

 **SHENHUA, THE MEDIATOR**

Shenhua was walking home from taking Leigharch to a doctor when she saw a shape land on a nearby wall. She almost reached for her throwing knives, only to realise it was a bird. In fact, it was a familiar bird. Even in the light from a nearby streetlight, those green eyes were distinctive before they snapped shut. The bird seemed to be hunched in a somewhat depressed way. It even convulsed in a way that seemed almost like sobbing.

Shenhua, bemused, crept closer. The bird didn't seem to notice her approach until she reached out and stroked its head. It opened its eyes and looked at her, before recoiling, hopping away long the wall, cawing at her.

"Hey, hey! I not hurt you, Vincent!" Shenhua said. "It okay!" _For fuck's sake_ , she thought to herself. _I'm talking to a bloody raven. It's like I'm trying to calm down someone who's freaking out_.

Of course, it was Shenhua who freaked out, albeit briefly, when the raven warped and rippled, and then changed into a wild-haired man with the same eyes, dressed in ragged clothes, hunched over on the wall. "Leave me alone!" he snarled, before he leapt off the wall and dashed into the night…only to trip over a bottle someone had left on the footpath, smacking his head against the very wall he had leapt off as he went down.

Shenhua rolled her eyes, before going over to the man. Her initial surprise and fear had been replaced by bemusement. And not at his ability, either. _You spent so much time as a bird, you forgot how to run like a man_ , she thought. She grimaced at the smell from his clothes as she carefully checked him, before nodding. As luck would have it, a back-alley doctor whose services she occasionally used was nearby. It was that doctor whom she had taken Leigharch to. The stupid Irishman who acted as her driver at times had burned himself badly after accidentally setting himself on fire during one of his drug-induced episodes. Even now, he was babbling like Hunter S Thompson after a big binge…

* * *

"Dogs fucked the Pope, no fault of mine…Watch out!...What money? My name is Brinks…" Leigharch babbled in the depths of his hallucinogenic fugue(1). Shenhua knew he usually stuck to marijuana or cocaine(2), but sometimes Leigharch liked to mix things up, and the results were usually disastrous. Even now, he tended to end up on Mars when he smoked marijuana, thanks to the damage done to his brain by drug cocktails, and Shenhua knew it was only a matter of time before he couldn't come back.

The back-alley doctor, an older, sunken-eyed man by the name of Dr Troughton(3), pursed his lips as he examined Vincent. "Chronic malnutrition, a minor concussion…" he muttered. "He's not in a good way, but frankly, he's in better condition than that idiot."

"Chocolate dice!" Leigharch shouted(4).

"Can't you tell him to take it easy on the drugs?" the doctor asked.

Shenhua shrugged. "You lead horse to water, but you can't make drink. Right?"

The doctor nodded wearily. "Incidentally, I need to ask, why are there raven feathers in his hair?" he indicated Vincent.

"Incident involving superglue and Leigharch," Shenhua said, hoping that would allay the doctor's suspicions. "Leigharch thought it funny to glue feathers to hobo."

Troughton nodded, before walking over to Leigharch, and slapping him. "Ow! Heh heh heh…lick the red chalk, it's delicious(5)!" the Irishman babbled.

"I think I have some decent clothes for him," Troughton muttered, looking back at Vincent. "He looks about my size, aside from looking like a scarecrow. I'm guessing that's why you brought him in? Because Leigharch hurt him while in that state, and when you went to apologise, he hurt himself?"

"Yeah. But he friend of Sawyer."

"Sawyer?" the doctor asked. "I didn't know she had any. Then again, she mostly keeps to herself."

Shenhua now blinked. She hadn't actually realised Sawyer was a woman, though given the concealing scrubs she invariably wore at UG Pork, it was hardly surprising. Then again, the figure was a bit short and slight for a man. "You know Sawyer?"

"She comes here sometimes for a check-up, apparently on your recommendation. She's a rather shy young woman," Troughton said. "And a rather dark past, if those scars are any indication. I personally think she needs a confidant, but she's a bit wary. Personally, you would make a good confidant, Shenhua. She doesn't speak much, she needs a device to talk, but when she does, we discussed you. Maybe she's found another in Vincent."

Shenhua looked down at Vincent thoughtfully, especially as she saw the lightning bolt-like scar snaking out from beneath his fringe. Then, as the ragged man stirred, she said, "I talk to him alone."

Troughton, recognising when he wasn't required, said, "I'll go and get those clothes. Do you want me to treat Leigharch elsewhere?"

"If you want."

"I AM CAPTAIN GORDON FREEMAN OF THE INTERGALACTIC HOUSE OF PANCAKES ORDERING YOU TO OPEN!" Leigharch bellowed as his gurney was wheeled away out of the main clinic area by Troughton(6). Then, as a parting shot before the door closed, he mumbled, "Carrot juice, carrot juice, vworp vworp, carrot juice…(7)"

Vincent groaned as his eyes flickered open in pain. "What the hell is wrong with that guy?" he asked, his voice a croaking rasp.

"How long list you want?" Shenhua said. She gently placed a hand on Vincent's shoulder. "Don't get up. You have concussion. And that mean you can't do transformation. Not without messing up. I know you Animagus."

Vincent blinked, and then stared at Shenhua. "Are you a witch?"

Shenhua snorted. "No, I not witch. I am…how you say in English? Squib, I think. I Squib. Parents ex-leaders of magic Triad in Taiwan. Long story. Now…why you with Sawyer?"

Vincent looked up at her, before he said, "I… It was wholly unintentional. I hadn't been able to change back from being a raven for months now. She fed me, and was kind to me, so I stayed with her. But then, when she was in danger, I managed to change back."

"In danger?" Shenhua asked. She had heard an explosion from the direction of the Yellow Flag.

Vincent nodded. "She went to some bar, the Yellow Flag or something, only for these goons in camouflage to start shooting things up. I had this premonition that there'd be trouble, so I followed her. Normally, I don't, I don't want to be seen as a stalker. I wanted to save her, so…I changed back, and set them on fire. But I realised…she recognised me. I don't know how, but I'm sure she recognised me. So I fled."

Shenhua peered at him. "You not peek at her while in shower or toilet? You not want to hurt her?"

"Of course not!" Vincent snapped.

"Then why you flee? You coward? Sawyer like you. Okay, she…No-Maj, I think. Oh, you British call her Muggle. But Statute of Secrecy lax around here. This Roanapur. And she like you. I think she forgive you. Or take chainsaw to your limbs."

"Thanks for the reassurance," Vincent muttered.

"It fine. I go see her while Leigharch comes back from Mars. I know her longer than you. I smooth things over…"

* * *

Sawyer didn't know what to think. After reading the note, which almost had the air of a suicide note, she curled up into a ball, hugging herself, on her bed in her apartment. She usually only did that when she lost her electrolarynx, or when something triggered the memories of her past. In a way, the note had done that. It reminded her of the suicide note her father ineptly forged, claiming it to be from her, before slitting her throat.

True, she had been somewhat angry at the deception, that somehow, Vincent was a raven who could turn into a man…or the other way around. But on the other hand, he had saved her life, setting those damned mercenaries on fire. Not only that, but he had listened to her as she spoke. Growing up, she had nobody who would listen to her, save for her broken mother. Not that that did much. And with her voice gone, she had become voiceless. She withdrew within.

She missed his companionship already. Despite falling into her life seemingly by accident, he had managed to find a way into it. And now he was out of it.

Her reverie was interrupted by the sound of the buzzer on the factory floor. _Go away_ , she thought to herself. _I don't want to see anyone, and there's no jobs scheduled_.

Distantly, she heard Shenhua calling, "Sawyer! Sawyer, open up! Want talk with you! No job, just talk!"

 _Go away, go away, go away_ , Sawyer chanted in a deranged mantra.

But she wouldn't. Sawyer eventually decided, if there was anyone she could talk to about tonight's events, it'd be Shenhua. Even with her lack of communication with the Taiwanese assassin before, she had felt the strongest bond with her out of all of her clients.

She briefly considered donning her scrubs, before deciding not to. If only to see what Shenhua's reaction to her true appearance was like.

* * *

Shenhua was on the verge of going to find a way to break in when the door opened, and a rather upset-looking young woman of indeterminate age opened the door. She looked to be anywhere from her late teens to her mid-twenties, with a messy mop of dark hair framing cute features, though her dull eyes looked both bloodshot and tired. She was dressed in goth fashion, as Troughton noted. And there was the perverse choker-like ring of scars around her neck.

After a moment, Shenhua said, "It good to meet without scrubs, Sawyer. Can I come in?"

Sawyer, after a moment, nodded reluctantly, and let Shenhua enter. Sawyer led Shenhua through her workshop to a small canteen that was used by the meatpacking factory, back when it was fully staffed. She then fished a rod-like device from a belt, and pressed it to her throat. " _Why did you come here Shenhua?_ " she asked in a buzzing monotone.

"To talk. This first time I see you out of work clothes. You look nice." Shenhua noticed Sawyer's eyes narrowing. She obviously wanted Shenhua to get to the point. So Shenhua sighed, steeling herself for what she was going to say, and said it. "I saw Vincent. I find him after taking Leigharch to Troughton. I thought him bird, until he change into man. Stupid man run, and trip, and knock himself silly. Took him to Troughton. We talk. So, thing you should know. He wizard."

Sawyer blinked, obviously bemused by that. Shenhua added, waving a hand, "Yes, magic real. I know. My parents magic. I what known as Squib: I have no magic, but born to magic parents. They ran Triad in Taiwan for wizards. Rivals killed them, nearly killed me. Long story. I tell you later if you interested. Vincent not just wizard, he Animagus. He turn into animal, yes? Difficult magic. What's more, Vincent not real name. I think I know who he really is."

Sawyer looked at her expectantly, so Shenhua said, "He really Harry Potter, I think. He has scar, green eyes, British, be about age Vincent is."

Sawyer pressed her electrolarynx to her throat. " _Who is Harry Potter?_ "

"Long story. Short version, dark wizard called Voldemort terrorises Britain years ago. One day, he attack family called Potters. Father and mother die, but son survive curse that kill anyone. It like if you shot him in head, and bullet hole heals up. Voldemort disappears, maybe dead, and Harry become famous. Called 'Boy Who Lived'. Years later, he go to Hogwarts. That magic school in Scotland. I don't know details, as I not in that world now. But…I guess nothing good lately."

" _How did you know it was him?_ " Sawyer asked.

"Scar," Shenhua tapped her forehead. "Harry supposed to have scar in shape of lightning on forehead. May not be him, but I have gut feeling. Stupid British called him messiah, but they fickle. Wizards fickle world over, though. Like humans in general. But my guess is, he fugitive."

" _Why?_ "

Shenhua snorted. "Wizards retarded. Apparently, British wizards doubly so. Lot of inbreeding in old families. They'd turn on hero on whim. Or greed. Potters old family, old money. Invent excuse, throw him into Azkaban, throw away key, profit!"

" _Azkaban?_ "

"British prison for wizards. Not nice place," Shenhua said with considerable understatement. "Full of soul-eating demons that make you depressed." As Sawyer looked askance at her, Shenhua said, hastily, "I not make this up! You saw Vincent use magic, yes?"

" _I saw him set those mercenaries on fire with flames from his hands. You tell me._ "

"Look, he understandably worried about reaction from you. Especially as you good with chainsaw. But…he care about you. He told me he had premonition of attack. That's why he follow you. But when you saw it happen…he panic. Would you give him chance to apologise?"

Shenhua could see the gears turning in Sawyer's head, before she finally said, standing up as she did so, " _Take me to him._ "

* * *

After a brief shower, Vincent had been given some of Doctor Troughton's older clothes, though thankfully, they fit him enough. Not fancy, but better than the rags masquerading as prison clothes they had made him wear in Azkaban. He had then had to sit in the same room as that high Irishman, who, while semi-conscious, occasionally murmured or sang deranged nonsense. Case in point, as he waited to hear back from Shenhua, Leigharch sang, off-key, David Bowie's _Life on Mars_.

He'd fallen asleep in the chair in the room, despite Leigharch's utterances, before he was woken up by a gentle shaking of his shoulder. He opened his eyes blearily, only to start when he found Sawyer's eyes peering into his own. She brushed aside his fringe to peer at his scar.

Then, her lips came close to his ear. She whispered, " _Just answer me one thing._ "

He nodded, not liking where this was going. "I'll try."

"… _Was it you who shit on Revy's head?_ "

He blinked, not expecting the question. Shenhua, who had overheard the question, said, "What? You shit on slut's head as raven?"

"Umm, yeah. Stupid trigger-happy bitch shot at me when I first arrived in Roanapur. I shat in her eyes for it. Shitting on her head tonight was a bonus."

Sawyer and Shenhua blinked, before the pair of them started laughing. With Sawyer, it was little more than a sort of grotesque croaks through her ruined larynx, but genuine all the same. "Ha! Twinkie used as bird toilet! Serves her right!" Shenhua chortled.

With that, a good chunk of the tension had been dispelled. Oh, not all of it, not by any means, but the ice had been broken. And the first steps had truly been made for a friendship between the three of them…

…And between Vincent and Sawyer, something a little more…

 **CHAPTER 3 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Shenhua, instead of Sawyer, has the magical past in this story, and she helped mediate between Sawyer and Vincent. Oh, and she knows a little of Vincent's past as Harry Potter.**

 **We'll have a timeskip for the next chapter. I want their relationship to be a bit better established. Incidentally, the timeline will be that of the anime, for the most part, but some elements will be from the manga.**

 **Isn't Leigharch fun to write for? Seriously, why doesn't he appear beyond the arc Shenhua first appears in? Maybe he was a Time Lord, and regenerated into Lotton after his brain was fried? That'd explain a lot…**

 **1\. This babble comes from** ** _Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas_** **, namely when Raoul Duke and Dr Gonzo take some ether. Supposedly, this is what Duke babbled while trying to get into Circus Circus. God knows what Hunter S Thompson actually said under the influence…**

 **2\. In the manga, it was cocaine, in the anime, it was marijuana. I decided that Leigharch has both, and more, in this story.**

 **3\. I thought of Patrick Troughton or his son David for the role of this back-alley doctor, hence the name, though the former would be more likely to have clothes that would fit a post-Azkaban Harry…** **incidentally, little bit of trivia. Dudley Dursley is played by Harry Melling…who is actually Patrick Troughton's grandson.**

 **4\. One of Jim's more bizarre utterances in the** ** _Star Wars_** **webcomic** ** _Darths and Droids_** **, where the entire Star Wars series (well, original trilogy and prequels, anyway) is retold as a tabletop RPG. It's brilliant, funny, and highly recommended. In the webcomic, Jim plays, amongst other roles, Qui-Gon, Padme, and Han Solo. I'm sure that if** ** _Black Lagoon_** **was a tabletop RPG, he'd be playing Revy. Ben (who originally plays Obi-Wan) would play Dutch, Sally perhaps Balalaika or Shenhua or Sawyer, and Annie would play Rock. Dunno who Pete would play, though Benny is a possibility.**

 **5\. While** ** _Homestuck_** **is yet to come out at the time of this story's setting (late 90s to 2000), Leigharch is channelling Terezi Pyrope, a blind Troll who can tell the colours of things by licking them. She loves the colour red.**

 **6\. Again, this reference is from a show after this story's setting, but** ** _Half-Life_** **was released shortly beforehand. The line comes from the third episode of** ** _Freeman's Mind_** **, a sort of hybrid of Let's Play and Abridged Series where Gordon Freeman's thoughts are audible, showing him to be a neurotic, narcissistic and somewhat unhinged individual. And it's hilarious. That version of Gordon Freeman ended up in my** ** _Portal_** **crossover,** ** _Is Your Great-Aunt an AI?!_**

 **7\. I once read this in a book or magazine of** ** _Doctor Who_** **, where the Sixth Doctor's last words on TV ("Carrot juice, carrot juice, carrot juice…") while the TARDIS dematerialises is mocked this way. 'Vworp! Vworp!' is the standard onomatopoeia for the TARDIS' sound in comics. I personally think it's naff.**


	71. On the Side of Angels Prologue

**Instead of a preview chapter from a story yet to come, I thought I'd throw in the one completed chapter of a story I grew bored with before I truly began it. _On the Side of Angels_ was partially inspired by _The Best Revenge_ , a Severitus fic. I had an inspiration for a good Voldemort story that would become a substantial AU of the Potterverse, where Voldemort was a dark but ultimately altruistic person, and the Dark Lord of this AU was Barty Crouch Junior, as a Muggle and Muggleborn-recruiting Dark Lord called Zagreus. Unfortunately, my motivation petered out, and I have no desire to go back to it. It was one of my first fanfics I tried writing, and frankly, I'm a little embarrassed by it.  
**

 **The title comes from a quote from _Sherlock: The Reichenbach Fall_ , where Sherlock tells Moriarty that, while Sherlock is on the side of angels, he's not an angel himself.**

* * *

 _ **ON THE SIDE OF ANGELS**_

 **PROLOGUE:**

 **AFTERMATH**

The house was unremarkable, or at least it had been. An old cottage, empty for so long, and empty once more. Of life, at least. Part of the roof had collapsed into a room on the second floor. Smoke wafted from the rent.

At the gate to the house stood a man, tall and thin. His face was handsome, in a rather severe and cold way, enhanced by his icy blue eyes. His age was indeterminate. He was dressed, as was his wont, in a black robe. And in his hand was a slender wand of wood.

His eye roved the house with a keen and cold eye. He noted the motorcycle near the front, enchanted, but the owner was nowhere to be seen.

He walked through the gate, and into the house proper. His analytical eye took in the signs of the battle that had occurred. It wasn't long before he found the first corpse. A woman, thin-faced and with an expression somewhere between a sneer and a rictus of pain. On her arm, half-exposed by her sleeve, was a dark shadow of a wand with a pine cone on it. A Thyrsus.

A sneer came over the man's features, before he raised his hand. A large, ornate ring sat upon it. "Maenad spirit," he called in a cold, high voice, but filled with authority. " ** _Rise_** _.(_ 1)"

Mist seemed to waft around the corpse, before forming into the shape of the woman currently sprawled on the floor. The apparition noticed him, and then sneered herself. "Another freak?" she demanded waspishly.

The sneer on the man's face became ever more pronounced. "I do not answer questions, spirit. I ask them. Who are you? And why do you have the brand of the Maenads on you?"

The spirit convulsed under the compulsion, before she said, "Petunia Dursley, nee Evans. I took Lord Zagreus' Mark because he promised me what was rightfully mine! But that bitch sister, Lily, stole it from me…"

The man's eyes widened in comprehension. "Lily! So…you are sisters. A muggleborn witch…and her muggle sister." Then, the eyes, the cold, cold eyes narrowed in…something that wasn't quite hatred or anger, but a displeasure of an acute kind. "Tell me, foolish Maenad, who did you kill?"

Proudly, the ghost said, "That wizard bastard she married, Potter. But…" Her face fell. "Something happened to the magic he gave me. It burned away…and so too…did my life. But I wanted to kill her…that bitch who stole what was rightfully mine, and…"

A cry from upstairs. A distinctive cry. The man's eyes widened in shock. With a hasty wave of his beringed hand, the ghost was banished to wherever the spirits of the dead went to. Had he arrived in time?

He burst through the nursery door, expecting to find two, perhaps three bodies. One of them still alive. The air still stank of the Killing Curse, _Avada Kedavra_ , that green bolt of death that blasted the soul from the body. So, Zagreus(2) had been there. But…where was he?

There was Lily Potter, nee Evans, lying dead on the floor. And amongst the shattered ruins of the crib was a baby boy, wailing in pain.

The man walked over, and carefully looked at the squalling infant. He detested children, but this child had just lost his parents. And the man knew why. Why, except for why the child was still alive.

When he saw the forehead of the child, he got an answer, of sorts. Raw and red, there was a distinctive jagged pattern, like a lightning bolt, etched into the forehead of the child.

On an impulse, he waved his beringed hand at the corpse of Lily Potter. "Lily Potter," he spoke once more. " ** _Rise._** "

Once more, mist rose from the corpse, forming into the shape of a young woman, staring around her. "Oh God, is he all right? Please, tell me, is Harry all right?" she demanded.

"Calm yourself, Mrs Potter," the man said quietly. "Your son is alive. Though I don't know how. Your sister is downstairs. She became a Maenad, one of Zagreus' muggle minions. She's dead, along with your husband."

Lily Potter looked distressed. "But…Petunia wouldn't do that! She was always envious of my magic, sure, but…this…"

"The Dark Lord Zagreus has many tools at his disposal. Petunia would have jumped at the chance to use magic, and in any case, Zagreus loves to amplify what is already there," the man remarked. "So much easier and more subtle than an Imperius Curse. Your husband is dead."

Lily nodded sadly. "I…I heard him die. And then, I heard Petunia scream. And then…he came. Zagreus. I begged him to spare my son, but…I threw myself in front of his Killing Curse when he attacked Harry."

"Did you see what happened next?"

"Barely. I was…between this world and the one beyond. And…he fired the Killing Curse at Harry, and then…I don't know."

The man looked back at the baby Harry Potter, before returning his gaze to the shade of Lily Potter. "Thank you for the information anyway. I will make sure that your boy is looked after."

Lily nodded. "But…before you dismiss me…who are you?"

The man looked pensive, before he said, "I was born Thomas Marvolo Riddle. But I rejected that name long ago. My name is Voldemort."

Shock and concern washed over the face of Lily Potter's spirit. " _You're_ Voldemort? The Cold-Hearted Seeker? The Necromancer? Dumbledore's Dark Detective? You?"

"My reputation precedes me," Voldemort said, with a small amount of pride, albeit bittersweet pride. "Did you really think I had a snake's face?" he asked, rather lightly given the circumstances.

"No…I just thought…there were all sorts of rumours about whether you had taken Zagreus' side. Like…Severus."

"Both Snape and myself take no sides bar our own," Voldemort stated. This breach of confidence was fine with Voldemort. He was, after all, speaking to a dead woman, who would keep the secret long after he left. "He really did love you, you know. And he regretted that day he called you mudblood."

Regret flashed in Lily's eyes. "Maybe. But it's moot now. Where will Harry go?"

"I don't know. I'm sure Dumbledore had places and people in mind." He reached down, and picked the child up gently. The child bawled all the harder, and Voldemort winced. "He'll be famous, you know. The infant child who survived a Killing Curse, and one cast by Zagreus himself."

"I don't want him to be famous. I just want him to live his life," Lily said quietly.

Voldemort nodded. "Yes. We can but hope. Do you have any last words to say to your child?"

She nodded. And spoke a single word. " _Live_."

With a rueful look to his face, Voldemort waved his beringed hand, dismissing the shade of Lily Potter. _Good last word to one's child_ , he thought to himself.

A noise from behind, and he wheeled, to find a large black dog in the doorway. _Ah, yes, of course. The motorcycle_. Out loud, he said, "I'm not the only one coming here. If you dare try anything…"

The dog seemed to snuffle a few laughs, before shifting shape into a young man, dark hair framing his intense features. "If I really was a minion of Zagreus', Voldemort, you'd be dead."

"And where were you, Sirius Black, when this occurred?" Voldemort asked archly.

The young man's face fell. "I got here as soon as I could. But I was too late. I got here just before you did. Prongs…James is dead, and so's Lily and her bitch sister. As for Zagreus…"

"Yes," Voldemort remarked, looking around the ruined room. "Tell me, Sirius, have you ever heard of a Killing Curse disintegrating their victim?"

Black shook his head. "I was listening to you speaking to Lily and her sister. Never heard of _Avada Kedavra_ rebounding either."

"And yet, Harry survived," Voldemort mused. He then looked up sharply when another realisation hit him. "Wait! Weren't you supposed to be their Secret Keeper? How the hell did Zagreus find them?"

Sirius held up his hands. "I'm not their Secret Keeper. I switched at the last minute, thought that might…" His face fell. "Oh, shit. Oh, you ratty _bastard!_ " And with that, he fled from the house.

Voldemort considered pursuing him, but at the moment, he had Harry to look after. And a mystery to unravel.

The roar of a motorcycle starting outside, and then, an argument, barely audible over the noise. Who else had come? There was only one other he had been told would be coming.

Voldemort left the nursery, carefully walking down the stairs, even as the sound of the motorcycle receded into the distance. One arm was at the ready, his wand clasped in hand, while the other cradled Harry Potter. If this newcomer wasn't the one he expected…

"Oi, Tom! Tom!"

Voldemort let out a breath he wasn't quite aware that he was holding. There was no mistaking that booming voice. "Hagrid," he called out, holstering his wand. "I have the boy. He's still alive."

"Oh, thank goodness!" As Voldemort reached the bottom of the stairs, he saw the entrance filled by the bulky form of Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys and Assistant Care of Magical Creatures teacher at Hogwarts. Part giant, fully loyal to Dumbledore, and with a heart as big as his frame. And, frankly, a bit of a nitwit. He was good with taking care of magical creatures, but less so of anyone who might happen to encounter said creatures. He'd coo at a dragon, unconcerned that it might burn everything down around him. Not that he was malicious. Malice wasn't in the dictionary of Rubeus Hagrid. Unfortunately, forethought wasn't either. But he was a gentle soul.

The two of them had known each other at school. Voldemort couldn't call Hagrid a friend, but he could easily call the man more than a mere acquaintance. A comrade perhaps. A man whom he would happily have at his back during a fight. It took a lot to get Hagrid roused to anger, and Voldemort had never seen it, nor did he wish to.

"What's that woman doing there?" Hagrid demanded, clearly confused.

"That, Hagrid, is the late, and frankly unlamented Petunia Dursley, nee Evans. Lily Potter's sister. It seems that Zagreus turned her into a Maenad."

The face of Hagrid, framed by bushy hair and a bushy beard, twisted into disgust and sorrow. "Oh, I remember that one. Begged Dumbledore to let her come to Hogwarts. That one were jealous of Lily and her magic." His face fell. "Lily? James?"

"Dead. Petunia used _Avada Kedavra_ on James, but it killed her too, the sheer power of being Zagreus' little magic soldier burning her out." He snorted disdainfully. "Could have just bought a rifle and used it. Same thing in the end. We should be grateful neither she nor Zagreus thought of that."

"But where is he?" Hagrid said. He had winced when Voldemort used the name Zagreus so openly. "Where is You-Know-Who?"

"Dead. Or at least disembodied," Voldemort remarked, scratching his chin thoughtfully, handing the boy over to Hagrid. The giant was a gentle soul, and would treat the young Harry very carefully. Hagrid certainly loved babies, no matter what their species. "From what I can gather, he attempted to use the Killing Curse on Harry, only for it to somehow rebound. Harry has that scar, while Zagreus…well, his body's gone."

"Ah, well, he weren't human enough to die," Hagrid all but spat, glowering. A thought occurred to the man. "Damn! Dumbledore wanted me to take him to his aunt and uncle. But…with his aunt here…"

"Indeed," Voldemort remarked, though he wondered why. They were the boy's nearest blood relations, true. And, with a flash of insight, Voldemort considered it quite cunning, too. Dumbledore had clearly anticipated such an event. Then again, there was that damnable prophecy. In any case, the boy would become famous. Living among muggles might mitigate that, prevent the boy from being crushed by the weight of celebrity, or his ego inflated to ridiculous proportions.

"I must send an owl," Voldemort said, pulling a pen and paper from his robes. He had to confess, muggle technology was convenient. A biro was certainly better than a quill when it came to messages that couldn't be done automatically.

Walking through into the kitchen, he saw the corpse of James Potter, sprawled like a ragdoll, his eyes wide in terminal surprise. Potter had always thought he was going to live forever. Fool. But he was a brave fool. A Gryffindor to the end.

Voldemort scratched out a quick message, not bothering with niceties of grammar.

 _At Godric's Hollow. James and Lily dead. Zagreus gone. Petunia Dursley present and dead too, with Thrysus on arm. Harry still alive. Scarred by curse. Original plan for them potentially invalid. Sirius Black was here too. Claimed to have not been Secret Keeper. Fled upon some realisation. Will give details later. Come to Godric's Hollow ASAP. Call Aurors._

 _Voldemort._

After addressing the envelope, he searched the house, and found what he was looking for: a cage with a rather miffed-looking owl within. The Potters must've kept the bird just in case. They couldn't use owl post while in hiding in case their hiding spot was discovered. But it would serve his purpose well now.

He attached the message to the now freed owl, and let it fly from the house, and into the sky. "What now?" Hagrid asked, rocking the baby in his massive arms.

"We wait. I don't envy the boy, though."

"He's gonna be famous!" Hagrid protested.

Voldemort snorted. "I don't know whether you pay much attention to muggle media, but fame has a tendency of eating up young lives and spitting them out(3). And I needn't remind you of what happened to Johnny and the Cauldrons. No, he shouldn't have to be famous. That'll destroy him."

Hagrid rumbled his understanding, and the two stood there, in the hall of the house, waiting for the authorities to arrive…

 **PROLOGUE ANNOTATIONS**

 **1\. A reference to the Black Lanterns from DC Comics. And to spell it out, yes, Voldemort is using the Resurrection Stone. It's part of the Gaunt Ring. I found it ironic that he uses a ring to revive (temporarily) the dead, something which, very loosely speaking, is what the Black Lanterns do.**

 **2\. Zagreus is a Greek deity often associated with Dionysus. Dionysus, amongst other things, is associated with ritual madness, and was known for his mood swings. His name was chosen by the dark wizard because he was also a death and rebirth god. I chose the name Zagreus because of a** ** _Doctor Who_** **audio story called** ** _Zagreus_** **, where the Doctor, due to a series of unfortunate events, was transformed into this creature, a boogyman from Time Lord myth, and became violent and insane. In fact, that is a very oblique clue as to who Zagreus really is…**

 **3\. I actually looked up former child actors on Wikipedia, but this part of the story (in canon, Voldemort was originally defeated about 1981, I think) was a little before the phenomenon became truly noted. The only pre-1980 example I could find (with an admittedly cursory search) was Judy Garland, and she didn't quite go the same way. For the sake of argument, assume that there have been cases not unlike, say, Gary Coleman or Drew Barrymore.**


	72. Rara Avis Chapter 1

**Those of you following my story _On the Delights of Drinking Blood_ will have seen an announcement in that story that I am seriously considering doing a _Sekirei_ crossover. That being said, I had, at the time, wanted to wait until the manga is republished later this year before I started. But then, an idea occurred to me that would only need the knowledge I already had from reading fanfics. Thus, this story, which is a pilot episode for a possible _Sekirei_ crossover.**

 **This is a considerable AU, though. Like _Hammer into Anvil_ and _Disquiet_ , this is a WBWL fic. And in this AU, Minaka's been toppled and bunged into an asylum thanks to Harry's actions, so while familiar characters will appear or be mentioned, the Sekirei Plan is no longer a city-spanning tournament featuring mostly buxom alien women battling each other for the amusement of Minaka. It's a more quiet, understated affair with Takami in charge.**

 **This took heavy inspiration from sakurademonalchemist's _Sekirei Game_ (particularly Harry being adopted by Miya) and Arawn D Draven's _The Bloody Ashikabi_. I have been in correspondence with Arawn D Draven about this story, and wrote this story as a deliberate contrast to _The Bloody Ashikabi_ , even if it does use a few similar tropes and story elements (Harry abandoned in Japan by the Dursleys, Winging Akitsu and a member of the Discipline Squad, being on good terms with Karasuba, James Potter bashing, the Tri-Wizard Tournament being involved, etc). The Wagtail Industries name also comes from another fanfic, though I can't remember which offhand.**

 **The story itself is set in 2004, bringing canon forward ten years. Harry is eighteen when this story starts, though, while the WBWL is 14. Oh, and I haven't made it clear in this chapter, but the Maison Izumo has been expanded to accommodate more people.**

* * *

 _ **RARA AVIS**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **WAGTAILS AND WIZARDS**

In the northern areas of the thoroughly modern metropolis of Shin Teito, sometimes known as Neo Tokyo, there was a rather old-fashioned house. Maison Izumo was a throwback to another time, though not necessarily in a bad way. Now a boarding house, it could get…lively at times. But it had been the source of a stabilising force that had prevented a wave of chaos from enveloping the city before it would truly begin. A wave of chaos that would have emanated from the deranged psyche of the ex-CEO of the company formerly known as MBI, now Wagtail Industries.

Life was nowhere near perfect. But it was better than it could have been. Most people who had better lives because of this didn't know it, but the main source of this stabilising force resided within Maison Izumo. And that much of it came from a boy still in his teens…

* * *

In a bedroom with a rather oversized bed, a quartet of people were snuggled up to each other, or rather, three buxom young women were snuggled up to a young man. Well, a boy of eighteen, with messy dark hair and a thunderbolt-shaped scar snaking out from beneath his fringe. He had handsome, if slightly scrawny features.

His companions in bed were a bit eclectic, if attractive to varying degrees. One was a redhead with her hair done in pigtails. Another had light brown hair framing a serene face, and easily was the most buxom of the women present. The third had short silver hair framing intense features, and scars all over her otherwise attractive body.

It was the young man who woke up first, his emerald eyes flickering open, before he rolled his eyes at his predicament. He suddenly vanished from between his bedmates and reappeared nearby with a muted whipcrack-like noise. However, the noise and his absence was enough to rouse his bedmates. It was the redhead who turned to him first and pouted. "Harry, why did you leave the bed?" she asked, taking some glasses from a bedside table and putting them on.

"Because it's time to get up, Matsu. Look at the time." He indicated a clock on the wall. "You know how Mum is if we're late for breakfast. Especially if she knows we've been engaging in 'lewd activities'." He even made air-quotes to emphasise his point.

"Ah…then we should bathe quickly," said the woman with the brown hair in a soft tone.

"And dress decently please, Akitsu. You know how Mum feels about your wardrobe, especially around Takami's kids. Minato just stares, and Yukari wants to grope you, and that's without going into Kusano and Shiina. And don't forget to leave your claws off, Haihane."

The scarred woman nodded. "I'm glad I took the week off. Between Benitsuba's whining and Karasuba being…well, Karasuba…I'm not sure whether to curse you or thank you for introducing her to pranks."

"Hey, whatever takes her mind off mass-murder," Harry said. "Anyway, she had fun dicing that moron we caught trying to forcibly Wing Sekirei. Seriously, you'd think after she made an example of that wanker Higa, people would learn their lesson. Even Mikogami's smarter than that."

Haihane rolled her eyes. "Well, I can make them listen to Reason." Reason being her pet nickname for her right-hand clawed gauntlet, currently in a box near the bed(1). The left-hand gauntlet, oddly enough, was called Mittens. Because a mitten was not only a kind of glove, but Mittens was a common Western name for a cat. And, like a cat, Mittens, if mishandled, had a bad habit of scratching the one handling it. Haihane got her scars on her body out of clumsiness: she habitually wore a bodysuit of bandages underneath her Discipline Squad uniform. Haihane had a wry sense of humour despite her clumsiness, which was why she nicknamed her gauntlets.

"Oh, incidentally, Harry," Matsu said, "I've got the latest video from the hospital of Minaka's funniest moments. You should see his attempt at imitating Team Rocket. I think your Mum will love it too."

"Of course she will. He nearly fucked over your species. At least Takami and the local Ministry are helping your people integrate with society now," Harry said. "Anyway, we'd better hurry. Otherwise, we'll get to see…IT."

The three women shuddered. They wanted to avoid that if at all possible…

* * *

They left the bedroom after their ablutions and getting dressed, and ascended some stairs to a hatch, which they opened, revealing the hatch to be the lid of some sort of trunk, in a bedroom, also with an oversized bed. This bedroom, however, seemed to be in a more Oriental style. Harry and the three women emerged, clambering out of the trunk, before leaving the room, and making their way to the dining room of the Maison Izumo.

The smells of cooking filled the air, while seated around a large table in a renovated dining room were a small group of people. Two of them were brother and sister, with dark hair, Minato and Yukari Sahashi. There was the silver-haired Homura, a rather beautiful-looking man. There was the purple-haired Nymphadora Tonks. There was the short, blonde-haired child Kusano. There was a silver-haired boy, Shiina. There was a buxom blonde with an arrogant air, Tsukiumi. And there was a dark-haired buxom young woman dressed in a fetishistic version of a Miko outfit, Musubi.

"Wotcher, Harry," Tonks said with a smile. Her mother had ended up being hired by Wagtail Industries as a lawyer in magical courts, particularly in regards to ICW laws, and she had ended up coming along for the ride. "You guys sleep well?"

"Of course, Tonks," Harry said, sitting down, with Kusano coming over to sit with him and his three bedmates. "What about you and Homura?"

"Like babies," Tonks said.

"Where's Kazehana?" Haihane asked.

"She's still in bed with a hangover," Minato said sheepishly. "Your dad ran out of potions."

"Tis just punishment for her intemperance," Tsukiumi declared loftily.

"Uzume and Chiho might be coming here later to visit," Homura said.

Harry nodded, and then looked down at Kusano. "Did you sleep all right, Kusano? No nightmares?"

The blonde child shook her head vehemently. "No, Kuu had no nightmares, big brother."

"Great." Harry picked up a newspaper from the low-set table, and frowned. It was an imported copy of _The Daily Prophet_ , and he, along with his fellow ex-pats, liked to keep abreast of what happened. And the local papers didn't generally cover events in Britain. Admittedly, the _Prophet_ was biased as all hell, being little more than a tabloid by Muggle standards, but it was better than nothing.

Tonks, noticing what he had done, said, "Apparently Beauxbatons and Durmstrang have arrived for the Tri-Wizard Tournament revival."

"Can't be any worse than that damned plan of Minaka's," Harry said.

"Well, given that Bagman's one of those in charge, I'm not so sure," Tonks said.

"Bagman?" Matsu asked, being a woman who thrived on information.

"Ludo Bagman, former Quidditch star and now the idiot in charge of magical sports in Britain," Tonks said. "He took too many Bludgers to the head, and made too many bets. I heard he's in deep debt with Gringotts and a number of Goblin loan sharks, not to mention a lot of other people. The guy supposed to be keeping a leash on him is Barty Crouch Senior, Head of International Cooperation, and he's a hardarse of the highest order."

"Nymphadora," lilted a gentle voice hiding an edge of steel, "I thought I told you that foul language is forbidden under the rules of Maison Izumo."

"And I thought I told you, Miya, that calling me Nymphadora is foul language in my book, so turnabout's fair play. Anyway, having been around Dementors, your mask thing is tame by comparison."

"Oh my," Miya said, emerging from the kitchen with a tray laden with food, a beautiful, apparently demure-looking young woman with long lavender tresses. "Then perhaps I should try harder." Her sweet smile didn't fool anyone: for all of her genuinely nice nature, Miya Asama was easily one of the most, if not THE most, powerful beings on the planet, and she took an impish delight in scaring people with a malevolent aura that frequently manifested itself as an illusion of a demonic mask, that depicting a _Hannya_ or jealous female demon. It was probably the worst of habits she had picked up from her late first husband, Takehito Asama, and it had, over the years, given her the nickname of the _Hannya_ of the North.

"Mum, try too hard and you'll be cleaning up after people soiling themselves," Harry said deadpan. "Save it for Seo if he ever comes around with Hikari and Hibari."

"But what if I need to enforce the rules of this house?" Miya said, still smiling sweetly as she placed plates of food on the table. "Rules which you have broken, my dear son?"

"Ah, as I said before, as the magical trunk's interior exists within a pocket universe, technically, it's outside the grounds of Maison Izumo," Harry said. "Anyway, can we have this discussion when there aren't innocent or indiscreet ears to hear it?" He glanced pointedly at Kusano, and then at Musubi, who cocked her head. The latter, one of Minato's Sekirei, was frankly something of an idiot, save for when it came to combat, with a brain in inverse proportion to the size of her breasts.

Miya sighed. Harry knew that, beyond her strict rules, it was part of her refusing to acknowledge that her son was maturing. He remembered after his 16th birthday, after he had bedded Akitsu (the first time for both of them), and she had made lamenting remarks about how her inn was being turned into a den of debauchery by her own son. Mostly in jest, but even so, there was a nostalgia for the time when her adopted son was just an innocent boy she had taken in after being abandoned by his so-called relatives.

Even now, Harry remembered that day like it was yesterday. His uncle heading on a business trip to Japan, taking his family with him. The beating. Being hurled over a wall into a graveyard, bones broken, and left to die a slow painful death. Crawling over to a gravestone, and passing out. Waking up in the arms of a complete stranger, at the time, a beautiful woman with lavender hair. He had thought her an angel. In a way, he had no idea how right he was.

Miya Asama was a Sekirei, a race of human-like aliens who had a ship that had crashed on Earth centuries, if not millennia, ago. They had been discovered by a trio of researchers, one of whom was Takehito Asama, a scientist who would later become her husband. Miya was the most powerful of the Sekirei, the Pillar.

While human in appearance, the Sekirei differed from humans in a number of important regards. The first was that all of them, in some way, were superpowered. These could be, broadly-speaking, divided into three categories. Physical types were masters of physical combat, usually using a particular weapon, or else a style of martial arts. Elemental types had mastery over an element of some sort. Brain types generally only had slightly more strength than the average human, and were thus physically weak by comparison to their fellow Sekirei, but could do something else. Matsu, by way of example, could hack into any computer network through the power of her mind alone.

The second was that their species could bond with other genetically and psychologically compatible beings, forming a magical and soul-based bond. This bonding process was called 'Winging', as it caused wings of energy to appear from a Sekirei's back. Only a select few humans, known as 'Ashikabi' or 'reed sprouts', could Wing Sekirei. And while any Ashikabi could Wing any Sekirei, a Sekirei tended only to seek out Ashikabi that they reacted to, where they felt an attraction to the Ashikabi in question. What was more, Winging a Sekirei boosted their powers.

They were also rather open-minded. It was unusual, but still a very real possibility, like with Harry or Minato, to have multiple Sekirei Winging themselves to the same Ashikabi. These were called Flocks, given the rather derogatory connotations of the term harem. Flocks of multiple Sekirei were desirable, as the more Sekirei Winged, the more powerful the Ashikabi, and thus the more power given to their Sekirei via their bonds.

"Even so, you should set an example, given that you are my son," Miya said.

"I am. I'm trying not to expose innocent minds to too much trauma," Harry said, ruffling Kusano's hair affectionately, causing the young Sekirei to pout. "Speaking of trauma, I forgot to tell you last night: we found that thug who abused Yashima, and Karasuba and Haihane went to work on him. Let's just say he won't be walking or having progeny any time soon."

Miya nodded, her expression solemn. There was no love lost between Miya and the current head of the Discipline Squad, the de facto policing force for Sekirei and their Ashikabi, but Karasuba's more bloodthirsty tendencies had become a little more controlled. Especially when she met Harry, and Harry had converted her to the idea of using pranks to torment people instead of killing them outright, something that appealed to her sadistic tendencies. She certainly enjoyed helping him gaslight Minaka before they finally put him away in an asylum for the rest of his natural life.

Haihane chuckled at the memory of dealing with Yashima's so-called Ashikabi. "Oh, he screamed like a little girl," she chortled. "He screamed worse than Benitsuba in a bad mood. I haven't had that much fun since Higa."

"I would chide you for your schadenfreude," Miya said, "but people who mistreat my feathers like that, I have little sympathy for. And Yashima?"

"Takami's working on her now, removing the bond," Harry said. "Hopefully, she'll have better luck finding a proper Ashikabi, but Yashima's traumatised. She'll need counselling."

"Vile beast," Tsukiumi muttered. She had been infected by her original adjuster's misandry, and while better now, she still had a streak of misandry.

"Now, now, that's no discussion for breakfast, son," chided a gentle voice whose owner came through from the kitchen. A rather careworn, lugubrious face, scarred and a little haggard.

"I agree, Remus dear," Miya said, giving her second husband, and Ashikabi, a peck on the cheek. Harry suppressed the need to roll his eyes. His parents were so embarrassing at times…

* * *

Breakfast was eaten mostly in silence. As they finished up, Matsu said, "I forgot to mention this earlier, Miya, but I have the latest footage from the asylum of what Minaka's doing."

"Oh? Is he still doing his Kamen Rider routine? I like that one."

"Of course, but he's recently added doing a Team Rocket introduction to his little one-man show. The version from the 4Kids dub, in fact. Oh, and he started singing a song that begins with him screaming that he is the God of Hellfire."

"Ah, Arthur Brown," Remus said with a wistful smile. "I'm still surprised that the local Ministry allowed you to get away with shredding his mind with Legilimency, son."

"They didn't like what Minaka did with the Sekirei any more than we did, but he had bribed and threatened them," Harry said. "I just cut the Gordian Knot. Besides, his failsafes and fail-deadlies have now been dismantled, so the original form of the Sekirei Plan, with some modifications, is now back in effect. I hope I made Takehito proud."

"You did, Harry," Miya said gently. "I'm certainly proud of you. At least now, the battles between our people are voluntary, and we are free to seek out our destined ones. And if it weren't for you, Remus wouldn't have come to me. I was privileged enough to have Takehito come into my life. It was an even greater one for Remus to enter my life as well, and that was thanks to you."

Harry looked embarrassed, which Matsu and Haihane snickered at. Still, it was better to be known for achievements he actually did do, rather than that whole Boy Who Lived BS his brother had. He was a minor celebrity in Magical Japan, and indeed across the wizarding world, for managing to stop Minaka's madness. Unfortunately, it had come with a cost. They later learned that Minaka had Takehito in stasis, not quite dead…and when Harry had attacked Minaka, the last thing Minaka did before succumbing to madness completely was to shut the stasis down in a way that killed Takehito. And there were other countermeasures, all the way up to a small nuke, that they were lucky Minaka didn't activate.

Miya took the news better than expected: she had already believed her first husband to be dead, and had mourned him. Most of her wrath was directed towards the now incurably-insane Minaka. Not that he wasn't incurably insane before, but now, he was just completely insane, and locked up in an asylum for the rest of his life. Takami Sahashi took his place, and changed MBI into Wagtail Industries. Not all was right with the world, but it certainly was better than with Minaka in charge of the Sekirei.

Suddenly, as if fate or destiny or some perverse force of the universe looked to shatter every peace that had been won, there was a sudden knocking at the door. "I'll get it!" Musubi cheered enthusiastically, before heading to the door. After a brief conversation, Musubi skipped back in, followed by an extraordinary figure, albeit one familiar to many of those present, though the last time he had been here was shortly before Harry Winged Akitsu.

It was Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and one of the few people Harry could call an ally in Britain. Thankfully, the old sod wasn't dressed in his usual eye-searing robes, dressed instead in a suit that wouldn't look out of place on a rather more shambolic and eccentric Oxbridge academic, albeit somewhat colourful. However, his expression was rather solemn, even harassed and harried.

"I'm sorry to arrive unannounced and disregard convention," Dumbledore declared, "but I have some news." He looked at the others present, particularly Minato and Yukari.

Seeing his look, Miya said, "They're aware of magic, Professor, and the Statute of Secrecy. These two are Doctor Sahashi's children, Minato and Yukari, and their Sekirei."

Dumbledore nodded, before he looked at Harry. "Harry, I have bad news. Someone, without your consent and my knowledge, has entered you as a contestant in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. And if you do not compete, your magic will become forfeit, possibly along with your life, and those of your Sekirei…"

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, yeah. That just happened. Even with Minaka gone and the S-Plan now tamer, life finds a way to screw around with Harry.**

 **Now, this story, like** ** _Disquiet_** **, has Remus Lupin being Harry's biological father. Unlike that story, he's still alive. Obviously.**

 **1\. Nicknaming Haihane's gauntlet 'Reason' and that whole 'listen to Reason' joke was something I took from Neal Stephenson's cyberpunk novel** ** _Snow Crash_** **. In that novel, Reason is a minigun that fires depleted uranium rounds. No, really!**


	73. Rara Avis Chapter 2

**I'm gratified at the reviews _Rara Avis_ got (and that title might change), but I also found some controversy with my story choices. Please understand, my story choices are mine to make. If you don't like them, you don't have to read the resulting story. And this isn't the only _Sekirei_ story I have planned, and they won't all be Potterverse crossovers either. But this is the story idea that won't rely on prior knowledge of the details of the plot of _Sekirei_. It's a pilot story of sorts.  
**

 **Now, I should apologise, as this chapter has a lot of exposition through dialogue. I intend to post the third chapter (which features Takami and Karasuba) at a later date to show where the story goes and how much it improves. Plus, the third chapter has a variation on the prank Ranma pulls on MBI in the _Sekirei/Ranma 1/2_ crossover _Anything Goes Game Changer_ by Vimesenthusiast, which I recommend.**

 **It also shows my take on Dumbledore. As my frequent readers will know, I try to vary his portrayal in my stories, usually to suit the plot. Here, he's got a decent relationship with Harry, despite declaring the wrong Boy Who Lived.**

 **EDIT: I've decided that this chapter is way too wordy over exposition we already know, and I will revise it for the final story, cutting much of this version of the chapter out and replacing it with Harry discussing things afterwards with a few of the other characters.**

* * *

 _ **RARA AVIS**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **THE UNEXPECTED CHAMPIONS**

In the silence that followed, it was Miya who broke it. "Professor…how has such a thing come to be possible?"

"I don't know. I can only suspect," Dumbledore said.

"Then perhaps you can tell us while you have a nice cup of tea," Miya said.

Dumbledore nodded. "That would indeed be lovely, my dear lady. It is late at night back home, and I would not say no to some caffeine."

As Miya smiled and, along with Remus, retired to the kitchen, Tsukiumi asked, "May I ask thee for thine name?"

"Ah, yes, I beg your pardon. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Professor Albus Dumbledore. I have too many titles and too many duties, including Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Scotland. May I have your name, young lady?"

"Thou may, considering thine manners are excellent for a human," Tsukiumi said loftily. "I am Number 9, Tsukiumi, and the true wife of Minato Sahashi."

Harry nodded. "Minato and Yukari are Dr Sahashi's children, and they're both Ashikabis too. Unfortunately, they have a certain madman as a father as well, though they don't take after him. And despite Tsukiumi's opinion, Minato also has Kazehana and Musubi in his Flock, 03 and 88 respectively. You've met Musubi, and Kazehana…is sleeping off a hangover. That boy next to Yukari is 107, Shiina. You know Tonks, and that guy next to him is 06, Homura, her Sekirei. You've met Matsu and Akitsu, and I've Winged Matsu since I saw you last. This here is Haihane, 104, another part of my Flock, and this cute little bundle is 108, Kusano. And no, she's a little sister to me, not anything else."

Dumbledore shook his head. "I would not believe that of you, Harry, my boy. I do remember Haihane, though. She was with that most appalling woman Karasuba when I was sent to Dr Sahashi to discuss how the ICW were going to integrate the Sekirei into society. I believe you were taking the equivalent of your NEWTs at Mahoutokoro at the time."

"Karasuba's mellowed since I first met her," Harry said. "She's practically a Marauder. It takes a lot more to get her to slice someone up."

"I'm not sure whether that is reassuring," Dumbledore said. "I believe this place has been remodelled since I have been here last. To accommodate more people?"

Matsu nodded. "Yeah, it was starting to get crowded. Yukari's going to university, and Minato's now an intern at Wagtail, though he's got to start right at the bottom, with as little help from Takami as possible. He mostly does paperwork relating to Sekirei registration and tracking. He also has to liaise with the Discipline Squad."

Minato shuddered. "Don't remind me. Between Benitsubasa chucking hissy fits and Karasuba being…well, Karasuba…"

"I'm surprised you didn't mention me, Minato," Haihane said.

"You're nice when you don't have your claws on you," Minato said.

Miya and Remus brought in the tea at that time, and placed a cup in front of Dumbledore, who took it, and sipped from it. "Ah, divine. I always enjoy the tea you make, Miya, green or black," Dumbledore said. "I feel refreshed already."

"Thank you, Professor," Miya said, hiding her gentle smirk behind the sleeve of her kimono. But then, her face became serious. "Now, the Tri-Wizard Tournament? We've been reading the paper in this household, and we know it is being held at Hogwarts. What we'd like to know is how my son got chosen to be in it."

"That is, indeed, the question, Miya," Dumbledore said. "The truth is, I don't know how or why. I can only speculate. You may not be aware, but the means by which the Champions are chosen is an enchanted artifact known as the Goblet of Fire. The prospective Champions write their name on a piece of parchment and put it into the Goblet. Then, at the time of the drawing, the names corresponding to each school are selected and ejected by the Goblet itself. It is intelligent, even aware to a small degree, not unlike a low-level artificial intelligence, to use Muggle terms. An age restriction was put into place for this Tri-Wizard Tournament: only wizards over the age of 17 could participate. I enforced this via an Age Line enchantment, whereby any students intending to enter would suffer a mild magical backlash if they attempted to fool the Goblet via Ageing Potions and the like. The Goblet also knew there are only three schools."

"Someone grab a cushion," Tonks muttered, "because I sense a 'but'."

"Indeed," Dumbledore said. "Three Champions were initially selected. The Beauxbatons Champion is someone you know, Harry: Fleur Delacour."

Harry nodded. About a few months ago, sometime after Minaka was toppled, Fleur had come over with her father, an expert on magical bonds and a specialist in Veela bonds. That was partly because he was married to a half-Veela. The part-Veela girl, while almost as haughty as Tsukiumi, had warmed to Harry when they met with Miya and the other Sekirei staying here during the Delacours' stay in Shin Teito. "What about Durmstrang? _The Daily Prophet_ reckoned Viktor Krum would be the Champion."

"And they were correct, but broken clocks are right twice a day," Dumbledore said with a brief wry smile. "And the official Hogwarts Champion was Cedric Diggory, whose father works in the Ministry. But then, here's the curious thing. The Goblet spat out two more pieces of parchment. One had your name, your birth name, on it. The other had your half-brother's name on it."

"So Charles is in the Tournament as well?" Remus asked. "Did he look like he expected that?"

"No," Dumbledore said. "In fact, he looked quite surprised, and a brief bit of surface Legilimency showed that he had nothing to do with it. I suspect other agencies involved, but all I have is speculation. I took every precaution against a proxy entry, or so I thought, given the three schools restriction. As it was, Alastor believes that a powerful Confundus was used against the Goblet to fool it into believing that there were more schools."

"Alastor? You have old Mad-Eye at Hogwarts?" Tonks asked in disbelief. "Lemme guess, he's teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts?"

"Yes. We had James teaching it last year after considerable insistence from him, but he left because…well, his stated reason was that he wanted to return to the DMLE, but in truth, he was not that good a teacher, sadly."

"Neither is Severus or Binns," Remus pointed out.

"Sadly, James snatched that crown from them both. For all of his faults, and I will admit Severus has many, Severus is not incompetent. Whereas James is not a competent teacher at all. He is good at learning and using, but not teaching. He didn't even devise a curriculum properly, which is something Severus can do, he favoured Charles to the point even Charles hated it, and he alienated a number of students with his anecdotes about being in the Marauders. When a rather prodigious Muggleborn called Hermione Granger called him out on it, he just told her to remember her place as a student and that she had no right to judge him, as he was with the Light faction."

"He's the same as ever, if not worse," Remus muttered.

"Sadly, I wish I had paid more attention during your school years, Remus," Dumbledore said sadly. "I have made many mistakes regarding James Potter and his family and friends." He looked at Harry pointedly.

"Look, I forgave you for that when you first came here, okay?" Harry said. "You at least had an excuse of juggling three positions, so you couldn't keep an eye on me. It's Prongs and Padfoot I can't forgive. They sent me off to the Dursleys. Merlin knows what that would have been like if the Dursleys hadn't taken me to Japan. I have my father, my real father, and I have a mother who loves me as much as Lily would have if she was still alive. I have family and friends, and I have stakes in two of the biggest companies in Japan. What more can I ask for?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Thank you, Harry."

Miya cleared her throat quietly. "Professor, surely there is provision in the rules of this Tri-Wizard Tournament for Harry to withdraw?"

"Originally, yes," Dumbledore said. "However, Crouch and Bagman closed every loophole that could be used to withdraw Harry from the Tournament when they revised the rules for this Tournament. I should know, as I went over the rules over the past hour before I came here. When I asked Bagman about it, he claimed that he had thought there would be adequate protections against underage students participating."

"What about magical signatures?" Remus asked. "Surely the person who entered Harry into the Goblet would be the one who stands to lose their magic?"

"No. The Goblet, from what I understand of its workings, works on the name regardless. It focuses on the person the name was intended for, and while Potter is a not unusual name in the Muggle world, and so too is Harry and Charles, I believe from my own researches that it can discern the identity from the intent of the writer. So Harry's magic, not to mention Charles', is still at stake, as much as it galls me to say so."

"Damnation," Tsukiumi muttered, summing up the thoughts of most of those present (save for Musubi, who would have been thrilled to be in a tournament to show her skill, and Kusano, who couldn't quite follow what was happening) in a single succinct word.

"Do not despair," Dumbledore said. "Harry only needs to be present and make a concerted effort to complete each Task, as well as certain occasions. Namely, the Weighing of the Wands, and the Yule Ball. He can return to Shin Teito if he wishes in the meantime. As he has completed the Japanese equivalent of NEWTs, he doesn't have to stay at Hogwarts if he doesn't want to, and given that James Potter or Sirius Black will be present for much of the time…and there is the somewhat disdainful attitude of some Purebloods to Sekirei. Even now, some of the Blood Purists view them in a similar fashion that they do Veela and even House Elves."

"When's the Weighing of the Wands?" Harry asked.

"November 5, and the First Task is on November 24th," Dumbledore said. "I must warn you, though, Rita Skeeter will probably be there. She'll focus on Charles, but given the scandal around your parentage, she may target you."

"She can try. Professor, can I ask something? Seeing as I'm going to be trapped in this, can I request that I represent Wagtail Industries? Mahoutokoro might take umbrage at a non-Japanese fighting in the Tournament under their name, but I'm sure Dr Sahashi will appreciate the extra publicity for the Sekirei."

"I'll speak to the other school Heads. Please be advised, Harry, that you will only be able to take your wand into the First Task. Your Sekirei cannot join you for it, or for any other Tasks. They will be spectators. I cannot say anything more about the First Task, as it requires courage in the face of the unknown. Would you like me to arrange a Portkey at the correct time to come to Hogwarts?"

"That would be great, thank you," Remus said. "Have you made any headway as to who would put Harry's name in the Goblet?"

"I only have suspects, but no proof," Dumbledore said.

"Hmm. Hey, Akitsu," Haihane said, looking at the Sekirei once known as the Scrapped Number. "If we do find the guilty party, would you like to participate in some art? I'd like to try my hand at carving an ice sculpture with my claws, but I will need you to provide the ice."

"Ah…I will consider it," Akitsu said.

"My dear ladies, there is little need for violence," Dumbledore said. "We will find the culprit or culprits. I intend to spare no effort, because I believe that either Charles or Harry have been targeted by agents of Voldemort."

Remus looked up sharply. "Are you serious?"

"Deathly so," Dumbledore said solemnly. "Remember, he infiltrated Hogwarts to steal the Philosopher's Stone. Voldemort currently exists as a shade, and I am currently working on a plan to put paid to him for once and for all. On another note, Harry, if you do bring your Flock to Hogwarts, please ensure that they are in…modest attire, and comport themselves with decency."

"I'll help… _encourage_ them," Miya said with her usual sweet smile that belied the threat beneath. "Do you wish to stay?"

"As much as I would love to, Miya, I have much work to do, and sleep to catch up on back home. I will keep you apprised of any major developments, and I will have the Portkey sent soon."

* * *

After Dumbledore made his farewells and left, Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed quietly. "I am **so** not looking forward to this. I manage to stop one dubious and dangerous tournament run by an idiot, only to get caught up in another. And that's not the worst part."

"Is it the family reunion?" Tonks asked.

"Well, it's a reunion, but I wouldn't call them family," Harry said. "This is my family, right here at Maison Izumo. I'm not a Potter, and I don't want to be one. Plus, Dumbledore thinks that Voldemort might be involved. If he ever finds a way to regain a body, odds are he'll come after me, even if I'm not the Boy Who Lived. Lily died saving both me and Charles, and he'd want to spite her. And the problem is, he's also one of the most powerful wizards of recent times, so I can't even say whether Sekirei can stand up to him unless they're a Single Number. And even then, I doubt Sekirei are immune to the Unforgivables." Then, after a moment's consideration, Harry added, "Well, I'd say Karasuba would enjoy the Cruciatus curse."

"Yeesh," Matsu remarked with a grimace. "Yeah, I can see her reaction to that even now. It's going to give me nightmares."

"Best not describe them in front of a child, Matsu," Miya said sternly, her eyes flickering over to look at a bemused Kusano. Her gaze then softened when she looked at her son. "And you won't stand alone. Your family and friends will stand with you."

There were a number of nods from around the table, and Harry smiled. "Thanks, people. I really appreciate it. Come on, we'd better get ourselves ready for this…"

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Dumbledore's told them what's going on, and Harry's resolved. Yes, a lot of exposition and not enough action. But some of it was done both to fill in the backstory a little, as well as to address various plot points people have made in fanfics about the Tri-Wizard Tournament.**

 **Dumbledore's past with Harry will be explored further in later chapters. While he is still a manipulative control freak with issues about keeping cards close to his chest, in this story, he's a well-meaning man who is ultimately on the side of good, close to canon. What's more, he and Harry have more of a grandfather-grandson relationship than in canon. Harry actually respects Dumbledore in this story, in spite of his past experiences.**

 **No numbered annotations for this chapter.**


	74. Wings of the Forsaken Chapter 2

**I decided the original second chapter of what was originally _Rara Avis_ was too wordy, and disrupted the flow of the story, and while this replacement chapter is still fairly wordy, I thought it worked better, giving a better insight into Harry's past in Shin Teito.**

 **Incidentally, the story's name has been changed to _Wings of the Forsaken_ , which I think is punchier than _Rara Avis_. The forsaken of the title is both Harry and Remus. At this point, _Wings of the Forsaken_ will be the title it will be published under. Five chapters have been written so far, but only the first three chapters will be published initially. The first chapter will be, apart from some minor edits, virtually identical to the first chapter of _Rara Avis_.  
**

 **Also, I'd like to make an announcement. I don't know how long until it gets put into _The Cauldron_ , given what I need to do IRL, but my next Potterverse crossover will in all likelihood be a crossover with _One Piece_ , with a Harry/Nami pairing. Watch this space...**

* * *

 _ **WINGS OF THE FORSAKEN**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **AFTERMATH**

It was some time afterwards. Harry was sitting out, alone in the garden. Well, not exactly alone. His Sekirei, and other Sekirei, were in the garden too, most of them watching Akitsu spar with Homura. But he sat somewhat apart, trying to gather his thoughts.

Dumbledore had just come along and told him that he had just been shanghaied into the Tri-Wizard Tournament. And his mentor had also told him that there was no way out, that any possible loopholes had already been closed by Bagman and Crouch, those responsible for reviving the Tournament in the first place. What was more, his half-brother had been entered, and Dumbledore couldn't rule out the possibility that one of Voldemort's agents had put the name of one if not both of the children of Lily Potter into the Goblet of Fire.

Dumbledore had been so apologetic. Indeed, his eyes were filled with self-reproach. Harry knew that the old man had felt a lot of guilt over what happened to Harry, and Harry had forgiven Dumbledore for that. The only foolish thing Dumbledore had done to Harry was to declare his brother Charles the Boy Who Lived. The rest was all on James Potter and Sirius Black, and Dumbledore having to juggle three positions.

Dumbledore was arranging a Portkey to take Harry to Hogwarts on the dates he would be needed. Thankfully, he wouldn't need to be at Hogwarts all the time, just on the days of the three Tasks he had to perform, along with a few key events like the Weighing of the Wands and the Yule Ball. But still, it meant possibly encountering James Potter and Sirius Black. Prongs and Padfoot. The ones who trumpeted themselves the Last Two True Marauders…but who had abandoned Harry and Remus Lupin, hounding the latter out of the country by exposing his lycanthropy.

Harry knew who it was who sat down next to him on the bench. Ever since being adopted by Miya Asama (even after marrying Remus, she kept her first husband's last name), Harry had a knack for sensing his mother's presence. It was hard not to. Sekirei were wells of power if you knew how to sense them, but Miya was an abyss of power. But that didn't make him afraid, even if it made others afraid. To him, the power radiating off the Sekirei Pillar was comforting.

"A yen for your thoughts, Harry?" Miya asked in English. Most of the inhabitants of the Maison Izumo were bilingual, with the Sekirei being taught the basics of Chinese and English as part of their education.

Harry scoffed quietly. "Just thinking about this stupid business. I went to all this trouble stopping one dangerous and deadly tournament run by an idiot, only to get roped into another."

Miya nodded solemnly. In the decade or so they spent as mother and child, the two could speak frankly on many issues. And while their relationship had been rocky at times (especially when Harry began, well, if not befriending Karasuba, then having a more strong relationship with the Black Sekirei than almost anyone in Shin Teito), their bond was strong, even stronger than that Harry had with his Sekirei. "It's not the Tri-Wizard Tournament that bothers you most, is it? It's a reunion with James Potter and Sirius Black."

Harry nodded mutely. He felt her arm wrap around him and draw him close. Even at his age, he had a strong relationship with Miya. Matsu, Tonks, and Kazehana sometimes teased him by calling him a Mummy's Boy. So did Uzume when she visited.

"Remember, Harry, you're not a child of my blood, but you are a child of my heart and soul, as precious to me as my fellow Sekirei. What's more, I am in your debt for doing what I could not, thanks to my promise to Takehito and my agreements with MBI. Minaka is now locked up, Takami has implemented a modified Sekirei Plan that won't be a game for the titillation of a madman, and my people are free to integrate with society. You saved Akitsu from a fate where she would never be able to find her Ashikabi. I couldn't be prouder of you. You have even managed to give Karasuba an outlet for her impulses. And while I cannot condone such dark pranks, it is better that than she kill on her whims."

"You've got to admit, though, sending death threats to that idiot who adjusted Akitsu is funny," Harry said.

"Perhaps," Miya said. "But that's not the point. James Potter and Sirius Black are not the ones whom you should look up to for acknowledgement and affirmation. You have true family and friends here. Don't worry about what they think."

"I'm not. I'm more worried about what me or my Flock will do to them," Harry said. "I don't want to set a bad example for little Ku. She doesn't know or understand the whole story. How can she? She's seven. I'm glad she's not in Minato's Flock. Between Tsukiumi's mercurial personality, Musubi's airheaded nature, and Kazehana's alcoholism, she hasn't got that many good influences."

"And she does with your Flock?"

"Matsu has at least learned to turn down her perversion in front of Ku, and Akitsu listens to me. Haihane tries not to do scary while she's off the clock. And we keep our 'lewd activities' out of view." Harry sighed, looking at the others. "Anyway, I detest James Potter and Sirius Black. I hate them. For what they did to Lily, to Dad, to me. I can't find it in my heart to forgive them."

"I'm not asking you to, Harry, any more than you could ask me to forgive Karasuba. But we will persevere in spite of them. And don't let hatred become the dominant force in your heart like it did in Karasuba."

Harry nodded, smiling. After what James Potter and the Dursleys did to him, he was surprised he had any capacity for affection or even love anymore. And yet, this extraordinary woman had found him, healed him, and raised him. While Lily had died when he was young, he still had distant memories of her, and remembered the love she had given him. He could never deny that Lily was his mother both by blood and deed, especially as she gave her life to save him and his brother. But Miya had picked up where Lily left off after a brief but intense interval of abuse.

They were both broken. Miya had been broken by Takehito's death, Karasuba's hand in that, and Minaka's insane schemes that she had lost all power over thanks to her vows. Harry had been broken physically and mentally by James Potter, Sirius Black, and the Dursleys, all for his heritage and being a symbol for them. For James Potter, Harry was a werewolf's spawn, a symbol of cuckoldry. For Sirius Black, Harry was the cause of James Potter's pain. That James Potter used Amortentia to ensnare Lily was beside the point. The Dursleys saw Harry as a freak, as abnormal, with Petunia also seeing him as being like the sister whose gifts she coveted, but could never have.

But broken people sometimes could find solace in others who were broken. Miya seized on the opportunity to adopt an abandoned child. And Harry, desperate for some form of maternal affection, latched onto her. It wasn't an auspicious beginning, but it would lead to their lives changing for the better.

* * *

It was a little later. Harry was taking Kusano to a nearby playground. He was accompanied by his other Sekirei, save for Matsu, who was more of a shut-in at times, even once the heat from MBI had died down from her stealing a Jinki. His Flock seemed on-edge. Haihane in particular asked to be taken to Wagtail Industries later in the afternoon, to spar with Benitsubasa to work off her anger, despite her taking a week off after yesterday's little saga.

They were being accompanied by two other Sekirei, as well as the Ashikabi of one of those Sekirei. Kazehana had managed to shake off the worst of her hangover, though she decided she wanted little to do with Tsukiumi's attitude for once. Plus, accompanying Harry meant avoiding the worst of Miya's wrath for drinking so much. And Uzume had become like a big sister to Harry during his stay, and was bringing her Ashikabi, a girl called Chiho, for a walk.

Kazehana was a tall, elegant dark-haired woman in a Chinese-style dress whose hemline stopped dangerously short of her modesty, and with parts cut out showing off her cleavage and navel. She had a serene, easy-going nature to her. Uzume, by comparison, was dressed somewhat more modestly, though her shirt and jeans did little to hide her figure, and when she was in battle, her outfit was considerably more revealing. Uzume was also shorter and more mundane-looking than Kazehana, though that wasn't saying much. It was like choosing between an exotic beauty in Kazehana, and a beautiful girl-next-door in Uzume.

They were also both powerful Sekirei. Kazehana was a Single Number, namely 03, capable of wielding the wind to lethal effect. Uzume was the Veil Sekirei, Number 10, capable of manipulating fabric imbued with her power for both defence and offence, to more effect than you would think with cloth. She was certainly ridiculously lethal if she wanted to be.

Uzume's Ashikabi was walking gingerly alongside her Sekirei. Chiho was a blonde-haired girl, rather young, who had lost her parents at an early age, and whose ability to walk was being taken from her by a viral disease. Unfortunately, Chiho was also being used as leverage against Uzume by an influential Ashikabi called Higa, one of the various reasons Harry targeted Higa. Chiho's condition had been cured by Wagtail Industries, and Uzume was truly grateful, even if she and Chiho now lived away from Maison Izumo.

If Harry had to define his relationship with these two Sekirei, Uzume was a big sister or cousin, while Kazehana was an aunt, albeit one with a few less than salubrious habits. But he loved them all the same as family. And he could understand why Uzume did what she did, as much as it hurt to be betrayed once more. Peter Pettigrew's betrayal had been out of pure self-interest, while Uzume was worried for her Ashikabi, and hated herself for what Higa made her do.

As Kusano scurried to the playground once they arrived, Chiho and Uzume in tow (the Veil Sekirei and her Ashikabi doing the supervising), Kazehana looked at Harry. "Minato told me what happened."

"Yeah. I'm not happy about it."

Kazehana chuckled. "I didn't think you'd be, Harry. If it were up to me, I'd take you and your Flock, minus Ku, out on a bender to end all benders. But your Mum will probably spay me and carve out what is left of my liver if I did that. She wasn't happy when I took you guys out drinking for your 18th."

"You've got plenty of liver left," Haihane snorted. "You're a Sekirei AND a Single Number."

"You wouldn't know it to hear Miya griping about it," Kazehana retorted.

"And don't forget what happened when you dragged poor Homura along for the ride," Harry pointed out. "He was only just getting used to being able to switch genders, he didn't need someone feeling him up when he was a woman. I mean, aside from Tonks. Homura doesn't mind it from her, even when Homura's a man or a woman."

"Homura's a big boy, he can deal with it. Or she, depending. At least Tonks is understanding. Anyway, you've got butterflies about going to this Tournament?"

"Ah…Harry is more worried about the ones who discarded him," Akitsu said. "I share in his…displeasure."

Kazehana nodded. It figured that Akitsu would, given how she was effectively discarded by MBI after their experiments effectively destroyed her ability to be Winged. Given epithets like 'the Scrapped Number' and 'the Broken Sekirei'. Harry had been drawn to her, and had brought her home. She soon became a resident of Maison Izumo. They both knew what it was to be discarded like trash for something beyond their control.

"I won't lie and say I'm not anxious about the Tournament itself," Harry said. "Dumbledore said I'm only supposed to do it with my wand, and show my bravery in the face of the unknown. He said he was quoting Bagman. And I can't bring any of my Flock with me. Oh, and apparently Fleur Delacour's been chosen as the Champion of Beauxbatons."

"Hercule Delacour's daughter?" Kazehana asked. About a few months ago, sometime after Minaka was toppled, Fleur had come over with her father, an expert on magical bonds and a specialist in Veela bonds. That was partly because he was married to a half-Veela. The part-Veela girl, while almost as haughty as Tsukiumi, had warmed to Harry when they met with Miya and the other Sekirei staying here during the Delacours' stay in Shin Teito.

"Yeah, and Viktor Krum, star Seeker of Bulgaria, is Durmstrang's. I don't know the official Hogwarts Champion, Cedric Diggory, but apparently his father is one of the more prominent officials in the Ministry. Hopefully, they won't see me as too much of an interloper. I've asked Dumbledore that I be said to participate in the name of Wagtail Industries."

"Why not Mahoutokoro?" Haihane asked.

"While they're glad to have me, I think they'd prefer a Japanese-born to fight in their name in the Tri-Wizard Tournament," Harry pointed out. "Takami would appreciate the publicity, though, especially in Magical Britain."

"Plus, you want to stick it sideways to James Potter and Sirius Black, right?" Kazehane asked with a wry smirk.

"That too. Though Dumbledore warned me this might be an attempt by Voldemort, through one of his agents, to get to me. And besides, if I lose my magic, I'll probably die, and I'll probably take my Flock with me, and I don't want any of that to happen."

"Of course not," Kazehana said. "Incidentally, what are you going to do when you find out who did this?"

"Ah…Haihane suggested that she wanted to try ice-sculpture," Akitsu said. "I would provide the ice around the responsible party, she would do the carving."

"Creative. Karasuba would love it. And I'm sure your parents would sell snacks," Kazehana remarked.

"We've got a few days until we have to go to Hogwarts for the Weighing of the Wands," Harry said. "I'm going to make the most of them." With that, he trotted over to where Kusano was being pushed on a swing by Uzume.

"Catch me, big brother!" Kusano yelped, before Uzume gave a big push, and Kusano leapt from the swing, with Harry catching her easily. They laughed. "Ku flew!"

"You sure did, Ku." He hugged Kusano to him. James Potter and Sirius Black weren't family, neither by blood or deed. The Dursleys weren't family at all, blood relation aside. No, this group at Maison Izumo was. He wasn't a Potter, and he had no intention of becoming one. He knew he wouldn't stand alone.

His family, his true family, and his friends, they would stand with him to the end. And that was all that mattered…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Those who followed the original version of this story,** ** _Rara Avis_** **, will have noticed a significant difference. I decided that chapter was too heavy with exposition and not enough character. I decided to change it, both to show Harry and Miya's relationship, as well as to show Kazehana and Uzume.**

 **On Homura and his/her gender: Harry will generally use male pronouns for Homura, partly because Homura's preferred form is a male one. However, Homura can, thanks to Tonks Winging him, switch genders at will (and, occasionally, by accident), and Tonks had helped him accept that. Harry has lived with Homura for much of his life anyway, and generally thinks of Homura as a 'he', only switching to 'she' when Homura is a woman. While Harry has been raised bilingual, and Japanese has more gender-neutral pronouns, he still has an English mindset. That being said, Harry accepted Homura's gender-fluidity itself long ago, partly because Homura was a big brother figure to him.**

 **Next chapter (and this will be the last pre-Hogwarts chapter), Takami and Karasuba.**

 **No numbered annotations for this chapter.**


	75. Mare Nostrum Chapter 1

**So, with the last thing I posted, I promised that my next posting to _The Cauldron_ would be the first chapter of a _One Piece_ crossover. I didn't intend to write it so soon, and yet, here it is. Now, if the premise seems familiar, yes, I reused whitetigerwolf's Animagus Lover challenge, as well as elements from my first fic that challenge inspired, _Quoth the Raven_...**

 **Unlike _Quoth the Raven_..., though, this story has a Harry who fell through the Veil and ended up in the _One Piece_ world. Harry's character will be closer in some regards to that of Vert from _Vert the Emerald and the Cetra Heritage_ , as noted below.**

 **The full story probably won't be written for a while. I need to work on other stuff first. But this should serve as a good appetiser.**

 **Incidentally, the first three chapters of my _Sekirei_ crossover, _Wings of the Forsaken_ , will be posted simultaneously with this sample chapter.**

* * *

 _ **MARE NOSTRUM: EAST BLUE SAGA**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **PARTNERS IN CRIME**

EPIGRAM: _He who makes a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man_.

Doctor Samuel Johnson

 _Wealth, fame, power. Gol D Roger, aka Gold Roger, the infamous King of the Pirates, had it all. And yet, he ended up on the gallows at Loguetown. But even in the face of death, he was defiant, smirking maliciously at his captors, as if he knew what effect his words would have on those gathered to watch his demise. And his words would send countless men and women to the Grand Line in pursuit of fortune, triggering off the Great Pirate Era. Before he was executed, he roared the following to the crowd:_

 _"_ _ **You want my treasure? You can have it all if you can find it! I left it all in one place! The One Piece is yours for the taking…if you feel up to searching the whole world for it!**_ _"_

* * *

Twenty-two years later, a slender girl in her late teens with orange hair lay slumped in a small boat, isolated seemingly in the middle of the ocean. She doesn't even react when a green-eyed raven flies down right next to her, peering at her in a hungry manner. A wooden chest was near her, whatever riches it was filled with of no use to her. And the ocean around her mocked her apparent thirst.

 _Water, water everywhere, nor any drop to drink_ , as Coleridge put it(1). Had he existed in this world. But he didn't.

However, the girl wasn't alone on the ocean, even if one discounted the raven looking like it wanted to eat her. A slightly larger boat was approaching, its sails emblazoned with the Jolly Roger, albeit one embellished by a red nose and marks on its eyesockets that made it reminiscent of a clown. A trio of men, of rough dress and demeanour, were looking at the boat with eager eyes. "Hey, look, it's a girl!" one of the pirates said.

As they came close, another pirate poked the girl, while the raven, with a squawk, flew up onto the mast of the pirate's boat. "Oi, girl, you dead? You look like something the cat dragged in and pissed all over, ha ha!"

The girl stirred, and looked up at them, her expression apparently one of delirium. "Ugh…am I hallucinating? Can't be…can't be anyone here in this part of the sea. Look…I've been lost for days. Can you spare…some water…and some food?" She indicated the wooden chest near her. "I've got gold…I'll gladly trade some for your help…"

This excited the greed of the pirates, who grinned. Easy pickings, they thought. "Of course we'll help, but…well, we want to see the colour of your coin, missy. We don't help for free." And with that, they clambered onto her boat, and began fiddling with the chest.

The girl, showing more vitality than she did mere seconds before, clambered onto the pirates' ship, and pushed it away from the one she just vacated. The pirates didn't notice, as they were trying to open the chest, while the girl grinned. "Feel free to take the whole ship," she smirked. Then, as she sailed off, allowing her original ship to drift away, she looked up at the dark clouds nearby.

The raven flew down, and perched on her shoulder, and croaked in a manner that sounded like laughter. The girl nodded. "Yep, I agree, Emerald. See those clouds they're drifting towards? Violent showers are on the way, and they'll have to be careful to avoid capsizing. We won't be in any danger. I know these seas like the back of my hand."

Emerald looked at her, in a manner the girl had come to see as disapproving. The girl shrugged. "They're pirates, Emerald. They pillage, rape, and murder. And they're Buggy's, too. He's one of the worst in the East Blue." Her face fell. "He doesn't hold a handle to Arlong, though." She sighed, before heading over to a nearby treasure chest on the deck, and opening it, before smirking. "Bingo," she said upon looking at the coins and jewels within. "They must've just hit a merchant vessel. There's even a crown. Must be for some noble with ideas above his station…or even a Celestial Dragon." She scowled at the thought of the infamously corrupt and dictatorial top nobles of the world. "They don't deserve _anything_ like this."

Emerald, who had flown off her shoulder and was now on the deck nearby, peered at the treasure chest, and then at the girl. He cawed briefly.

The girl sighed. "I know. But I don't think I have much choice. Otherwise, Arlong has my village forever…has ME forever. Still, given what I found out, Buggy has a good map of the Grand Line. We'll have to take a risk and snatch it." She gingerly picked up the raven and pressed him to her chest gently. "We haven't known each other that long, Emerald. But…I wish you could talk back. Heh. God, listen to me, I've been alone for too long. I'm talking to a raven that I adopted as a pet. That's the first sign of madness, isn't it? Talking to yourself…or near enough. Next I'll start referring to myself in the third person. Nami going crazy."

* * *

In another part of the world, a pink-haired elegant woman dressed in the uniform of a Marine sneezed a couple of times, before scowling. "Is someone making imprecations of Hina behind Hina's back?"

* * *

Emerald remained silent. Well, it was a bit hard to make noise when being pressed to a girl's bosom. Not enough to cause trouble breathing, but still, it complicated speech.

Nami released him, and he hopped away slightly, before watching her count out her money. He had all but fallen into her lap a few months ago, shortly after she left Cocoyashi Village to get the last bit of money needed to pay off Arlong. He'd looked in a bad way, and Nami had to question why a raven was flying over the ocean. As far as she knew, they weren't seafaring birds. Maybe this one had been the pet of a sailor, or a pirate, and he looked unique with that lightning-bolt shape of white feathers above his right eye. He was certainly a smart bird, able to understand her commands. More than once, she was grateful for Emerald for stealing something for her, or crapping on an enemy and distracting them at a critical time.

She would probably need his help once they reached Orange Town. After all, Buggy was one of the most dangerous pirates in the East Blue, and legend had it that he had mysterious powers. Not only that, but he had a temper shorter than the fuses on his cannons, with it being said that he once destroyed an entire village he was visiting simply because a child made fun of his big red nose.

Still, fortune favoured the bold, as they say, and as risky as getting the Grand Line map was (never mind actually making it TO the Grand Line, the infamous 'Pirate Graveyard'), Nami thought that the reward was worth it. Plus, if she really got lucky, she'd have a chance to snatch whatever treasure Buggy had squirreled away…

* * *

Not so long afterwards, Nami was cursing to herself as she sprinted down the main street of Orange Town, a trio of pirates pursuing her, Emerald flying overhead. Getting the map had been relatively easy. But then, her luck went sour. And now, three of Buggy's crew were coming after her with swords in hand. And as fast as she was, the bastards were gaining on her. Maybe the crew got practise in physical fitness running away from Buggy when he was in a mood or something.

Emerald crapped on the street, causing one pirate to slip and fall, his flailing limbs bringing down his fellow with him. Then, with a caw, he swooped down at the last pursuer, scratching and pecking at the pirate's face, screeching.

"Get off me, y'damned crow!" the pirate snarled, before grabbing the bird, and smashing him against a nearby wall. He then yelled at Nami, "You'd better come right back here, you little bitch, or your mangy pet's gonna get it!"

Nami had halted, and whirled to face her pursuers. She paled when she realised he wasn't bluffing. She badly needed a distraction, something, anything to distract these idiots, so she could find a way to rescue Emerald. But things like that didn't exactly drop out of the sky, did they?

A distant explosion heralded Buggy firing off one of his infamous cannons. A slightly closer explosion overhead heralded a sound of screaming from above, before something slammed into the ground, kicking up a big cloud of dust. As the dust cleared, the figure it had been hiding got to its feet, ever-so-slightly shakily.

It was a boy, a little younger than Nami, with black hair and eyes, a scar underneath his left eye. He was wearing denim shorts, a red vest, and a battered straw hat. He shook his head, and looked bemused. "Huh. I'm alive. Whose bright idea was it to shoot cannonballs at me?" he asked, his voice high and rasping.

Now, had this been any other situation, Nami would have used the kid as a distraction. But she doubted that that would do Emerald any good. She would have needed him free to be able to flee while this kid distracted the pirates. The pirate holding Emerald suddenly squeezed the bird, and Nami heard the bird squawk in pain, and then, a brittle snap, before flinging the bird behind him.

"EMERALD!" Nami yelled.

"Don't worry," the pirate sneered. "He can't fly now. And neither can you…"

* * *

Oh, this brought him back. The jolt of pain through his left wing. It stirred memories that had been adrift in the fog for a while, memories he had allowed to be submerged. Because to remember that he was once human was to remember all the pain he had suffered.

It was a walrus who had broken that arm last. Well, a man who was very like a walrus. He had the moustache and the corpulence. What was his name again? Uncle Venial? Uncle Verruca? Uncle Venereal?

Ah, Vernon. Yes, that fat twat. Fucked a giraffe to have a pig. Or was that a song he once heard?

Gah. Focus, dammit. The raven known as Emerald used the pain to focus his mind. If he didn't do something soon, Nami was going to die, probably after being tortured and raped. And he couldn't do that as he was now.

Another fog-shrouded memory came unbidden to mind. Of a dogfather fighting in a darkened chamber, fighting against a rabid bitch. A curse hit him, he staggered towards an archway…and Emerald needed to save him.

He charged forward, and stopped his dogfather from falling through the archway, only to be knocked through himself. He remembered falling through a void, but only remembered darkly. Even now, his life was mistbound.

But the memory spurred him to do something about this. In his desperation, Emerald reached deep within himself, found something he hadn't used for two years now, and _changed_ …

* * *

"Hey, what are you guys doing?" the boy asked, looking at the three pirates, the two who had fallen having gotten up and joined their comrade.

"Stay out of this, brat," one of the pirates sneered. "We're gonna slice up this bitch into bits so small the worms won't even have to chew(2)."

The boy looked incensed at that, and looked set to fight, only for a painful rasp of a voice to snarl, " _Expelliarmus_."

The three pirates were suddenly hurled through the air, their swords being torn from their grasp, and landing right in front of a figure who was behind them. Someone Nami hadn't seen before. A figure she was afraid of.

The boy was about her age, if somewhat short and lanky, even scrawny, dressed in tattered rags that had once been clothes. He had a messy, shoulder-length mop of black hair framing handsome, if haggard features. There seemed to be, oddly enough, black feathers stuck in his hair. His left arm hung limply by his side, while his right hand held what looked like a stick or a baton…or a wand.

But the things that caught her eye the most were two things. The first was the lightning bolt-shaped scar, snaking out from beneath his fringe. The second, flashing behind scuffed glasses, were emerald-coloured eyes.

As the pirates got to their feet from where they had landed, the ragged boy snarled, "Stay…the fuck…away… _from Nami! STUPEFY!_ "

The three pirates were hurled through the air by a strobe of red light, with Nami and the straw-hat boy diving to the ground to let them pass overhead. They skidded along the ground, but when they came to a stop, they didn't get up.

The straw-hat kid stared, and then grinned, leaping to his feet. "That was cool! Was that a Devil Fruit power?!" he demanded of the ragged boy.

"Shut up a moment," the ragged boy said, before he took his left arm, which seemed broken, and grasped it in his right hand. With a scream, green light suffused it, and then, he released it. "Oh, that was fucking painful." He looked over at Nami. "Are you all right, Nami?"

Nami blinked in confusion, before she asked, "Yeah, but…who are you? How do you know…?" She trailed off when her mind finally made the connections. Green eyes. A lightning-shaped scar. Feathers stuck in his hair. "Emerald?"

The ragged boy nodded. "That's…not actually my name, though. Call me…Harry."

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, there you have it. Okay, it's VERY similar in premise to** ** _Quoth the Raven…_** **, but hey, if it works…**

 **Now, Harry will be somewhat prickly in this. He will be not unlike Vert in** ** _Vert the Emerald and the Cetra Heritage_** **. So when Luffy makes his declaration that Nami and Harry will join his pirate crew, regardless of their say in the matter, Harry is NOT going to be happy. In fact, he and Luffy will be at odds. He'll get along better with Nami (obviously) and Zolo, but Usopp and Sanji are other matters entirely. He'll only go along with Luffy for Nami's sake. Plus, Luffy reminds Harry a bit too much of him when he was younger and naïve.**

 **And yes, characters from the Potterverse WILL make an appearance later down the track, as with** ** _Vert the Emerald and the Cetra Heritage_** **.**

 **1\. The quote is from Samuel Taylor Coleridge's famous poem** ** _The Rime of the Ancient Mariner_** **. I could have had Harry as an albatross instead of a raven, but a raven, I think, is more fitting to Harry, given his black hair and his connection to the Deathly Hallows.**

 **2\. This is modified from a line from the** ** _Red Dwarf_** **episode** ** _Gunmen of the Apocalypse_** **.**


	76. Flock Off! Chapter 1

**Now, this sample chapter is from a story that won't be out for a long time yet. I want to wait until I got the _Sekirei_ manga before I try to do it in earnest. That being said, I just had to do it, stake my claim so to speak, so that when I actually get the manga, I can continue it in earnest.**

 **This story has a number of inspirations. The first is whitetigerwolf's recently issued 'Drunk Recruit' challenge, whereby Harry, while drunk, infiltrates a secretive or criminal organisation (Hotel Moscow from _Black Lagoon_ was an example used) and is conscripted into it on pain of death or imprisonment. The second, to a degree, was Bloody Brandy's Vegas challenge. Finally, I have to admit a huge debt to sakurademonalchemist's story _Angry, Angry Wizards_ , which will be the basis for much of the story when it continues, and I have asked and received permission from her to do a variation on her story.**

 **It's also going to be somewhat humorous, what with the snarky first person POV that I tried to do for _Resident Evil: Basilisk_ (from which I copied and pasted a couple of paragraphs) and, like in _Wings of the Forsaken_ , Harry will be converting Karasuba to the joys of pranks.**

 **So, with that in mind, enjoy.**

* * *

 _ **FLOCK OFF! OR, HOW I LEARNED TO STOP WORRYING AND LOVE LETHAL LADIES FROM OUTER SPACE**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **IT'S NOT A GOOD NIGHT UNLESS YOU WAKE UP NEXT TO A TRAFFIC CONE(** **1)**

Ah, morning amnesia. One of the most treacherous functions of the brain, and yet one of its unsung heroes. Waking up with no idea what the hell you did the night before, only that the morning is sure to get awkward. So, story of my life. Damned bipolar luck.

That, coupled with a splitting headache, ensured that my awakening was not exactly a pleasant one. That, and I could feel the warm flesh enveloping me on both sides. Normally quite a pleasant sensation, but I knew there was going to be awkward explaining to do. Plus, I was sure there was going to be a traffic cone somewhere in the room. It's not a good night unless you wake up next to a traffic cone. And yep, there's one at the foot of the bed, at the end of a valley of flesh I could barely make out without my glasses.

The first thing that came back to my rebooting brain was my name. Harry James Potter. And then, enough of my life story came back to me.

Shortly after that whole mess with Voldemort, I realised, I had always had to dance to someone else's tune. Mostly Dumbledore's, but also to the expectations of Magical Britain, as well as being servant to the Dursleys. And now that Voldemort was dead, along with so many friends, I realised I felt hollow.

I couldn't continue with Ginny. She took it well, better than Ron. I told her that she was right, that I hadn't been happy unless facing Voldemort, and now that he was gone, I didn't know what to do. I needed to find a new purpose in life, and frankly, I wasn't sure I could find it in Magical Britain. Ginny let me go with tears in her eyes, but a genuine wish for me to find my happiness. I think Ron and Molly were more upset than Ginny was, and certainly more angry.

It took me a while to decide what to do next. I felt restless. I decided to take the money my parents had left me, and go on a tour of the world, try to forget what happened in the past. My latest stop was in Japan, and I had ended up in Shin Teito, formerly Tokyo. Apparently it had been bought up by a company, Mid-Bio Industries or MBI, whose CEO was some flamboyant wanker called Hiroto Minaka. I saw his image on the local newspapers. A massive shock of white hair framing a grinning face with glasses, a white business suit over which he wore what looked like a goddamned cloak…it was like he was trying to look like some megalomaniac scientist out of an anime.

Anyway, he had bought up the city, though for what reason, few people seemed to know. Whatever it was, MBI was more of a subject of curiosity than anything I wanted to get involved with.

On my second night staying here, I got depressed more than usual. Occasionally, the sheer enormity of what I went through hits me. I had survived, while so many people hadn't. My parents. Cedric Diggory. Sirius Black. Dumbledore. Mad-Eye Moody. Remus Lupin. Nymphadora Tonks. Fred Weasley.

The survivor's guilt would occasionally sneak up on me and punch me in the guts. So I go to the nearest bar and drink myself stupid. I usually drink alone, but for some reason, I found myself with some company last night. A rather elegant, dark-haired woman, tall and buxom, dressed in a vaguely Chinese-style tight dress that stopped dangerously short of her modesty, and had bits cut out to show off her navel and cleavage.

I think we got to talking and, eventually, bitching about our lives. She had complained about being dumped by the only man she had ever loved, who turned out to be that wanker Minaka. Her name, apparently, was Kazehana, and I, being the gallant idiot that I was, vowed to play a Marauders' style prank on Minaka to avenge the honour of my drinking buddy. She seemed disappointed in me in some way. Not in my vow to avenge her: she seemed pretty amused at that. But she seemed to regret that I wasn't her Ashikabi, whatever the hell that was. I think it meant 'reed sprout' in Japanese or something, but the Translation Charm wasn't translating it properly. I think it was because she was slurring her words a bit. We parted ways with a drunken hug, and I went off into the night, determined to head back to the hotel, retrieve my Invisibility Cloak, and make Minaka pay for his being so cruel to a beautiful young woman.

Gah. Merlin, did I really do something that quixotic? Again? Only this time, I was drunk? Anyway, leaving that aside, if I parted ways with Kazehana, who the freaking fuck was I in bed with?

I looked to either side of me. I was being hemmed in by a pair of young women, with the arm of what had to be a third draped over one of them. It was hard to tell what their ages were, but I guessed late teens to maybe late twenties at most. The two women whose heads I could see both had silvery grey hair, and rather intense, if attractive, features.

I squinted, making out details. The one on my left had a number of scars on her pale skin, her silver hair shaggy and short, her eyelids a little sunken. For some reason, I had this notion of her being like a female Wolverine or Vega, but I couldn't remember why for the life of me. The one on my right had a couple of scars herself, with long hair, her features twitching in a smirk even in the depths of sleep…or was it? My danger senses were beginning to scream at me, and I had a sinking feeling that, whoever this woman was, she might not actually be asleep.

I heard a yawn, and then, the owner of the arm draped over the woman to my left sat up. She looked to be in her late teens, with a fit, athletic if somewhat petite body. At least, I hoped she was in her late teens. She also had pink hair, and when she saw me, a moment of confusion and anger flitted across her features, before realisation seemed to come to it, and she smirked. "Ah, our Ashikabi is awake," she said.

I blinked. _What?_ That was the second time I heard someone use that term. I also realised that the Translation Charm had worn off, and she was speaking accented, if good, English. I decided to play it safe, and groaned theatrically. Not that I needed to exaggerate the pain in my groan much. "Did anyone get the number of that truck that ran me over?"

"104, Haihane," murmured the woman with the short silvery hair and scars.

A soft, malevolent chuckle emerged from the lips of the other silver-haired woman, and her eyes opened lazily. Our eyes met, and I knew I was in deep shit. Those eyes, they were the eyes of a murderer, a predator, no, something even worse. "Actually, it was 04, me," she purred. "You've been a very naughty boy."

"Clearly," I said, as calmly and dryly as I could manage. "Umm…how plastered was I?"

"Plastered?" the pink-haired girl asked.

"It's British slang for being drunk, Benitsubasa," the woman calling herself '04' said, her English far less accented. "And the answer was, very. I mean, you'd have to be stupid or under the influence to do what you just did. You're lucky we found you amusing enough to let you live, for now. And the fact that we reacted to you."

"And don't forget the fight with me, Karasuba," murmured the other silver-haired woman, whose eyes were flickering blearily open. "Though why did you keep calling me Vega? I thought Balrog had the claws(2)?" she asked me.

I blinked. I fought these three? Or at least one of them? "Umm, what did I do last night?"

"I don't know all of what you did," the woman who had been called Karasuba said, "but you somehow snuck in, vandalised the office of our president, tie-dyed his collection of capes and coats, and then, somehow snuck into our quarters. I found you then when you tripped up on that cloak of yours, and…you challenged us to a dance-off. I let Haihane here try to deal with you, only you dodged her, using some sort of teleportation. And then, as the fight went on…we started to react to you. I stopped you, had to knock you down, and suggested we kiss you."

"Umm…react to me?" I said, dreading where the hell this was going. " _Kiss_ me?"

"But of course!"

The crazed voice came from the door, and as I tried to sit up, a couple of things happened. A sickening jolt of pain went through my head from the hangover. Benitsubasa handed me my glasses, which I donned. And music started playing from the door. Very familiar, bombastic music, from when Dudley used to watch a certain show.

"Prepare for trouble!" declaimed the voice, which came from a familiar, white-haired figure standing in the door, his hands reaching for the ceiling as if to milk a giant cow. Standing next to him was a silver-haired woman in a labcoat, her rather attractive features set in a scowl. As the music continued, the man frowned, before nudging the woman with his elbow. "You missed your cue, we need to start over!"

"Shut up, Minaka, I am not indulging your desire to do a Team Rocket introduction. And why did you want to use the damned old English dub?" the woman snapped.

Minaka pouted, before rewinding the music player he had with him. "You have NO appreciation for the fine and subtle art of making a grand, bombastic entrance. Anyway, I'd better start from the point where I can handle it myself." The music started off again, and after a moment, he began to make his declaration.

" _To protect the world from devastation!_

 _To unite all peoples within our nation!_

 _To declare the beauties of truth and love!_

 _To extend our reach to the stars above!_

 _Hiroto! Minaka!_

 _MBI blasts off at the speed of light!_

 _Surrender now, or prepare to fight(_ _3)_ _!_ "

I blinked, and then looked at the woman. "Is he always this insane?"

"Some days, he's _worse_ ," the woman said with a long-suffering sigh. "I'm Dr Takami Sahashi. This insane imbecile, if you've not been in Shin Teito for long, is Dr Hiroto Minaka, the CEO of MBI. And you, Mr Harry Potter, are in very deep trouble."

"I figured that," I muttered. "How do you know my name?"

"It's a bit hard not to know when you left your wallet in your clothes," Takami said. "Karasuba was kind enough to send us your name before she retired for the night. Incidentally, I would say congratulations on you being hired…but something tells me you wouldn't appreciate it."

"You what?"

Minaka's deranged grin grew even wider. "Ah, yes! You see, you have been chosen by fate to partake in a grand game the likes of which the world has never before seen! My sincerest and heartiest congratulations! What is more, in spite of the rather puerile and juvenile way you have trashed my office and my clothes, you have managed to do something rather wonderful for me! You see, these three lovely ladies have needed a handler for some time. By Winging them, you have just volunteered yourself to be that handler!"

My hangover-befuddled brain was understandably struggling to catch up with this. "Winging them? What, is that what they call sex these days?"

"Oh, there was no sex involved," grinned Karasuba. "You were too drunk for that. We just piled up here naked to see the look on your face. Doesn't mean there won't be later, though." Her hand snaked down to clasp a rather sensitive place indeed, to emphasise her point.

Takami apparently took pity on me, before she said, "Okay. Long story short, last night, you bonded yourself to three aliens. What's more, they act as our private security, as enforcers of the safety of their own kind. Ergo, you're now their new manager. I'd say congratulations, but…you're going to have your hands full."

"And if you try to run out on us," Karasuba purred as I tried to wrap my head around that, "I get to hunt you down and remove your limbs." Her nails, very sharp nails, pinched into my member ever so slightly, enough to make her point. "So…no pressure."

"That's right!" Minaka crowed. "You try to leave Shin Teito, and, well, we can't _kill_ you, as you're now their Ashikabi, their destined one. But we only need you _alive_. Takami, can an Ashikabi support Sekirei when in a coma?"

"Minaka, stop scaring the poor bastard. He's going to get enough of that from his Flock," Takami said. She looked at me. "You seem to be taking this well."

"I have a bad hangover, and I've seen weirder shit than alien women even when I'm sober. Gimme a moment to let it sink in before I start shrieking in fear and dread at the situation I've been roped into," I said deadpan.

Not that it was just fear I felt. It was anger and annoyance. And a bit of self-reproach. I didn't care what crazy situation I had gotten myself into now. All I knew was, the way Minaka was grinning at me like some comicbook supervillain, I was going to show him why Harry Potter wasn't going to be trifled with…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry's got himself into a bit of a pickle, huh? Shades of Bloody Brandy's Vegas challenge, though Harry has only slept with his newfound Flock in the most literal sense of the term. But he's not going to take it lying down. Come hell or high water, he's taking MBI down. He'll be at odds with Takami once he learns of her admittedly reluctant complicity with Minaka, and a bit with Miya when he learns of her neutrality, but hey. They'll still be allies.**

 **Anyway, as with** ** _Angry, Angry Wizards_** **, this story starts a few years before the main** ** _Sekirei_** **storyline. Some of my readers will note the similarities with my now-abandoned-and-archived story** ** _Resident Evil: Basilisk_** **, with the snarky first person viewpoint, and I even copied and pasted a couple of paragraphs from that story wholesale.**

 **1\. The chapter title comes from a line uttered by the Cat in the** ** _Red Dwarf_** **episode** ** _The Last Day_** **, after the crew have a drunken bender to help Kryten enjoy himself.**

 **2\. For those of you who don't get the joke, I'm referring to the** ** _Street Fighter_** **character. In English-speaking territories, he's called Vega (the original Japanese title for M Bison), while in Japanese, he's called Balrog (which is the English name of the character named in Japanese M Bison). No, really. Isn't localisation fun? Harry would know the English name, while Haihane, having played the Japanese version, would know the Japanese name.**

 **3\. Yes, this is a modified form of the first English version of the Team Rocket anthem from** ** _Pokémon_** **.**


	77. Flock Off! Chapter 2

**Wow. I am actually quite surprised at the reaction to this one, and I am equally surprised that I managed to squeeze out a second chapter. That being said, I am trying to take a break from fanfic writing ATM (until the end of June at least, for various reasons, though the main one is that I want to concentrate on my non-fanfic writing for now).**

 **But there's one ray of hope. I managed to find a way of ordering the _Sekirei_ anime series on Blu-Ray, well, the first season anyway, and that might mean that, after the end of June, there'll be an explosion of _Sekirei_ fanfics from me. I'll certainly be getting it long before the manga gets republished.**

 **Anyway, enjoy the second chapter of...**

* * *

 _ **FLOCK OFF! OR, HOW I LEARNED TO STOP WORRYING AND LOVE LETHAL LADIES FROM OUTER SPACE**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **ORIENTATION DAY**

A shower later (very cold, and not helped by Karasuba joining me), and I eventually was frogmarched by the three women (now dressed) into a room where the Takami woman was waiting. It was then that I was given effectively a lesson on Sekirei 101. An abridged version.

About eighteen years ago, Takami and Minaka, along with a man called Takehito Asama, found a spaceship buried within an island that had risen out of the ocean. Within that spaceship, they found a grown woman in stasis, along with foetuses and embryos in various states of growth. While human-looking, they were actually aliens from another world, with each having a particular type of power. They were dubbed the 'Sekirei', after the name for the Japanese Wagtail. Why they were called that, I have no idea, and Takami didn't see fit to enlighten me.

Anyway, MBI got founded based on the technology they could reverse-engineer from the spaceship. And Minaka had gotten it into his twisted little head to get some entertainment from it. You see, Sekirei bonded with their chosen partners. I think it's actually a magical bond of some kind, not unlike a familiar bond. This bond is initiated by a kiss and an exchange of DNA via saliva. This triggers a link between Sekirei and their chosen, unleashing their powers, and causing the brief emergence of wings of energy, hence why the process was called 'Winging'. Only certain humans could trigger such a link, and they were known as Ashikabi. Again, don't ask me why.

What Minaka decided to do was to create a tournament around the Sekirei, releasing them to seek out their chosen partners. But he also decided to turn it into a battle between Sekirei, winner take all. Of course, such things needed policing, hence the Disciplinary Squad.

There had been three iterations of the Discipline Squad before, but I was only told about this one, told it was need to know, despite my protests. The leader was Karasuba, obviously. Her number, 04, had her as one of the most powerful Sekirei, as those with single-digit numbers had the most power. Takami told me, rather redundantly, that she was a bloodthirsty sadist. So, I was basically stuck with the alien equivalent of Bellatrix Lestrange. She wore a dark uniform, over which she wore a grey coat like a cloak.

Benitsubasa was the petite pink-haired girl, currently dressed in a dark Asiatic dress. I would later come to learn that she was about as old as me, more or less (thankfully for my sanity: the Sekirei had been triggered into growing shortly after being discovered), but had a bit of a neurosis about her bust size, or lack thereof. She was a hand-to-hand fighter, capable of causing shockwaves with her fists. Haihane, the scarred one, wielded massive oversized claws in combat. She also had a habit of laughing herself sick, I would later learn. She wore a dark kimono over bandages wrapped around her scarred body.

Now, as much as I detested this situation, and being conscripted into it, and protested it, much to the grinning apathy of Minaka and the resignation of Takami, I knew that I didn't have a choice. Takami pointed out that MBI had satellites that could track Ashikabi, and fire death lasers at any berk who decided to fuck off from Shin Teito. My words, not hers. I didn't think they'd know anything about magic, Apparition or Portkeys, but I would not be surprised if they managed to track me down somehow. Especially now that I had some weird soul bond to a trio of lethal ladies from outer space. Karasuba had the air of a hunting dog, and one who had no qualms about playing sadistically with her prey.

But having gotten into this mess by being an impulsive Gryffindor, I knew that there were ways out of this by being Slytherin. Not in the stupid, Blood Purist way that blonde eunuch Malfoy emulated all the bloody time, but rather, biding my time until I struck, like a snake in the grass. Even Voldemort, for all his batshit crazy, knew when to bide his time and when to strike.

Once Takami had finished, and had asked, "Do you have any questions?", I promptly put my hand up. She raised an eyebrow. "Really? You're going to put your hand up? Even though this is new to you and only you?"

"Pick me, miss, pick me," I said in the most deadpan tone possible. Haihane began chuckling.

"Just ask your damn questions," Takami said.

"Okay. Tell me, why are you letting Minaka turn this into a glorified bloodsport between a group of buxom alien women and whatever poor berk who takes their fancy? If they're meant to find their Ashikabki or destined one or whatever, that's fine. But why turn it into a game where the losers actually lose the chance to be with their Ashikabi?"

"Because Minaka's a dick," Takami said bluntly. "He's a genius, he's insane, and he does not give a damn about human life whatsoever. He thinks himself to be a god-like supervillain out of a manga, and unfortunately, he's smart enough to know how to control people. He has failsafes in place in case people rebel against him, unless they amuse him in doing so. That goes for both of us. I'm staying in this to minimise the damage he does to the Sekirei."

"Are you? Only, you just conscripted a foreign national into your program without doing any background on him whatsoever. I could sue the crap out of you, and believe me, I have the money to do it."

Takami rolled her eyes. "Blame Minaka. I'm the one stuck having to clean up after him. He's also the only one politically capable of keeping the various governments of the world at bay. More than a few attempts have been made to kidnap Sekirei or seize Kamikura by interests both governmental and corporate. A threat of a lawsuit from you wouldn't even faze him. Plus, once a Sekirei is Winged to you, that's it. It's irrevocable. Much like a Vegas wedding, only Elvis isn't involved. Quite frankly, I'm relieved you Winged them. The candidate Minaka wanted was unsuitable for a number of reasons."

"How is that?"

"Natsuo is gay, and while I have no problem with that, the strength of a Sekirei's bond is enhanced by affection. It's not always necessarily a sexual or romantic bond, but those do help. Natsuo is also…troubled, shall we say? His lover died some time ago, and I personally think he has developed nihilistic, even sociopathic tendencies. Minaka thought that would help him mesh well with Karasuba, but…the truth is, I had my doubts. The Discipline Squad is required to handle any challenge that comes their way, including possible confrontations with Single Numbers. And the strength of the bond between Ashikabi and Sekirei strengthens the Sekirei." She peered at me. "You seem to be taking this far better than many I have worked with."

"I've seen weirder than alien women, remember?" I retorted. "Is it normal for an Ashikabi to be bound to multiple Sekirei?"

"No, but it's perfectly possible. They all reacted to you," Takami said. "If you are an Ashikabi, you can Wing Sekirei, even if they don't react to you. And Sekirei can react to multiple people. The reaction is a form of physical arousal indicating compatibility." On my look, she clarified, "Heartbeat and flushing. Occasional sexual arousal can happen, but…"

"I felt the pain you went through," Karasuba purred. "The darkness you fought. The anger you bottle up. I can help you relieve that."

"That's what pranks are for," I snarked back. I looked at Takami. "Do I have powers as head of the Discipline Squad to prevent Sekirei from being forcibly Winged?"

"To a degree, though Minaka wouldn't like it."

"Tough. Can I have a dossier on each and every Sekirei and their abilities?"

"Fine," Takami said. Better to know what I was up against before I embarked on my great big fuck you to MBI, as well as my duties. I didn't have Hermione around to do the research for me now.

"Good. If there aren't any more questions…" Takami began, before I interrupted.

"Oh, I have plenty more."

"Like what?" Takami asked exasperatedly.

"What is your name? What is your quest? And what is the airspeed of an unladen swallow?"

There was a silence for a time, before she growled, and stormed out of the room. "NI!" I shrieked after her.

Haihane cocked her head as she watched Takami storm out. "What was that about swallows?"

I looked at them, before throwing my arm around Haihane. Of the Sekirei I had met so far, I liked her the most. Creepy as hell, but she was kind of endearing. Whereas Benitsubasa, I already had the feeling was an angry little bundle of complexes, and Karasuba…well, her very presence was slamming down on my 'oh fuck get away it's a bloodthirsty predator' button.

Anyway, I said, "Tell me, my dear Haihane, have you ever watched the classics of human comedy? Because I am so buying a copy of _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_ for you to watch." I looked at Karasuba. "And you would like the Black Knight scene."

"I doubt that," Karasuba said.

* * *

"I **LOVE** IT!" Karasuba laughed as the now de-legged and disarmed Black Knight declared his duel with Arthur a draw. Haihane was rolling on the floor, laughing her bandaged arse off, while Benitsubasa was laughing as well.

As it happened, Minaka had a DVD of the film in his collection, English dub, but with Japanese subtitles. I should have guessed that he was a Monty Python fan. There was something vaguely Pythonesque about him, like that Inquisitor played by Michael Palin in that sketch about the Spanish Inquisition.

* * *

I guess you could call watching that film a bonding experience of sorts. Well, with Haihane at least, who spent a lot of time after the film ended coughing up half a lung from laughing so hard. Benitsubasa spent the rest of the film torn between amusement and bemusement, and Karasuba seemed disappointed that there wasn't much more violence, though the Killer Rabbit scene got her laughing as well. And when she saw the Holy Hand Grenade in action, she immediately said, " _I_ _ **want**_ _one._ "

Afterwards, Benitsubasa peered at the screen as I took the DVD out. "So, that's human comedy?"

"One of the most famous comedy groups in the world. They come from my home country…well, except for Terry Gilliam, he's from America," I said. "They call themselves Monty Python. I don't know what comedy they have here…"

"Well, there's _manzai_ , a kind of double act," Haihane said. "And there's all sorts of comedy game shows, and anime…hey, are we in a harem comedy?"

"If we are, I'm not laughing," I snarked.

"You're no fun," Karasuba remarked.

"Hey, I'm meant to be your babysitter, given what Takami said. Babysitters are killjoys by default."

Karasuba's lazy gaze sharpened ever-so-slightly. "Well then, Harry Potter, if I wanted to kill someone, how would you stop me? You certainly can't do that by asking me nicely."

"Depends on whether they deserved it. Like if they killed another Sekirei or a human. Anyway, killing someone's boring. It sounds like something my worst enemy would do."

Benitsubasa snorted. "You have a worst enemy?"

" _Had_ , past tense. A terrorist who targeted my family when I was young, and then came out of hiding to try and kill me time and time again. Looked like his mother had it off with a snake. You act very much like one of his lieutenants, who I am pretty sure was his lover too," I said, indicating Karasuba. "You're much better looking, though considering she spent maybe fifteen years in prison, that's not saying much. Anyway, I have ways and means of stopping you. Let's just leave it at that."

Well, I wasn't sure whether a Body-Bind or a Stunner would do jack-shit, really. And I couldn't rely on them working more than once, not with Karasuba. So, how did one stop a bloodthirsty alien woman from killing people?

Ah. Idea! An idea, worthy of a Marauder! "Anyway, killing's so uncreative. So's torturing someone physically."

I could feel the entirety of Karasuba's attention on me. It was, to be honest, pretty intimidating. It made the gaze of the Basilisk seem tame by comparison: at least that was certain death if you met it. "Go on," she purred, as if daring me to say something that would get me sliced and diced.

"What I meant to say was, my father, godfather, and honorary uncle were all pranksters at school," I said. I was improvising like mad here. "Two of my best friends were too. They knew how to make their victims howl with impotent anger, raise their blood pressure to dangerous levels, make them fear their wrath, all without harming their flesh." Well, with weapons, anyway. I knew more than a few of the Weasley Twins' stuff had caused some reversible harm. And given what I saw of the Marauders' antics through Snape's memories, well…yeah. They were bullies.

But hey, needs must when you needed rhetoric to persuade a killer alien with a killer body to not kill. Well, aside from the deserving. Hopefully, I could get her to prank the deserving as well.

And I'm sure that, if Luna was here, I'd be having a hard time persuading her that no, I was NOT going to set out to conquer the world with my new triptych of alien minions. Even if, given the stupidity I had seen in humans both mundane and magical, I was sorely tempted to give into my inner Voldemort. Gah! No! Bad Harry! No treacle tart for you!

Anyway, to my cautious delight, Karasuba looked intrigued. I could all but see the gears turning in that…well, I hesitate to say 'pretty little head', because, while beautiful, 'pretty' suggested something a little innocent, which certainly didn't apply to Karasuba. Plus, she would have diced me for the condescension, I'm sure.

I could say that I have created a monster, but Karasuba was one already. It was just a matter of changing what type of monster she was…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, yeah. Harry's undergone orientation, and he's begun bonding with his Flock, as well as beginning the process of converting Karasuba to…well, not the Dark Side, and certainly not the Light Side. More like the Sadistic Pranks Side…and Shin Teito is officially fucked.**

 **I'd imagine that, if there'd be anything that would get Karasuba at all remotely interested in not wiping out humanity, it'd be dark comedy, particularly that with physical violence. Aside from the examples from** ** _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_** **shown above, I get the feeling that she'd also like some of Rik Mayall and Adrian Edmondson's stuff, along with** ** _The League of Gentlemen_** **. Hell, I can hear her singing along to Always Look on the Bright Side of Life, especially the bit starting with 'Always look on the bright side of death…'**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	78. Truth and Consequences Chapter 1

**The first of my post-Hogwarts Harry/Luna stories is also the first to go into _The Cauldron_ for archival. This was my attempt to do a _Fullmetal Alchemist_ crossover, and while it had a lot of neat ideas in it, I couldn't muster up the motivation to take it any further. Hence its placement here. That being said, for all that, I still have an (admittedly on-hiatus) pure _Fullmetal Alchemist_ story called _Saligia,_ so feel free to peruse it.**

* * *

 _ **TRUTH AND CONSEQUENCES**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **TRUTH AND DARE**

" ** _Hello._** "

Harry Potter wasn't really expecting anything when he and Luna had stepped through the Veil. All in the name of thaumatological inquiry, of course. He had to admit to being nervous: it _was_ the Veil of Death after all, or so it had been thought of until his research team (himself, Luna, and Hermione) had discerned something different about it.

But was he expecting a white void, with a massive, ominous gate inscribed with arcane symbols, and a bizarre outline, black ever-shifting smoke (or was it energy?) outlining a crudely humanoid figure that was as white as the void itself, and thus would have been invisible otherwise? No, he certainly wasn't. Nor was he expecting the strange, androgynous voice that sounded like many people speaking at once.

Luna didn't seem to indicate that she had expected it either way. Instead, she skipped merrily up to the outline, and said, "Hello. What's your name?"

For a moment, the outline seemed a bit bemused by her cheerful greeting, but it seemed to recover swiftly. " ** _Oh, I'm glad you asked!_** " it said equally cheerfully. " ** _I'm called by many names. I am the world. I am the universe. I am God. I am Truth. I am All. I am One. And I am you._** "

"It must be nice to have so many names," Luna said with her habitual dreamy smile on her face. "I only really have two: Luna Lovegood, and Looney. I sometimes get called God, though. Invariably by Harry. 'Oh my God, Luna!', he cries out, when I..."

"Luna, please don't discuss our sex life in front of the eldritch entity," Harry murmured in dismay.

" ** _Well, it IS entertaining_** ," the Truth (as Harry and Luna would come to dub the entity in front of them) said, a grin appearing on its otherwise featureless face. Then, the grin disappeared, and the Truth became literally faceless once more. " ** _But sadly, your business here with me is somewhat more urgent and serious. You ventured forth through the Veil of Truth, voluntarily. Most came here involuntarily._** "

"I know," Harry said, thinking of Sirius. It was the biggest reason that he had set forth on this insane venture. Not the only one, though.

He was getting sick and tired of both the awed whispers and dark mutters. He was treated with both praise and suspicion for managing to vanquish Lord Voldemort. Not by his friends, at least. His break-up with Ginny had been amicable, and she found better love with Neville Longbottom. Ron Weasley was gaining fame of his own in the Muggle world in chess circles, which he did between assignments as an Auror. And Hermione was, as they had been, applying herself in the Department of Mysteries.

Their discoveries about the Veil, that it was not into Death, was astonishing. Then again, he remembered that time in the Forbidden Forest, when he couldn't recall Sirius' spirit with the Resurrection Stone.

After considerable discussion with Luna and Hermione, Harry resolved to embark on his next great adventure, albeit hopefully not into Death. He penned an open letter to be published in the _Daily Prophet_ , said his goodbyes to his friends (Teddy being in the care of Ron and Hermione), and then went through.

Only to end up in this situation.

" ** _In ancient times, the Veil and its arch was used to send the condemned of your world to me, as tribute to keep what they call 'magic' strong. The fools had no inkling of the truth, but even so, everyone who came here was offered a choice. And few chose wisely. Of late, they haven't done so. Come here, that is. They forget that a lot of what they call magic is fuelled from within their very bodies, something that your bushy-haired friend has come to realise. Yes, I can see events in your world. But to travel through the Veil is to travel irrevocably to another world. Assuming, of course, you choose wisely._** "

"Choose what?"

The smile appeared on its featureless face again. " ** _When people pass through here, I exact a toll. In exchange for part of them, I grant them knowledge and power. Not that they have much of a choice in the matter. Anyone who is foolish enough to knock on my door should have realised that human transmutation through alchemy is a taboo. But for those who come here from your world, I offer a simple exchange: your magic, in exchange for the ability to perform circle-less alchemy. Refuse, and, well, I am sure you don't want to know…_** "

"Does it involve tentacles?" Luna asked. Harry facepalmed.

"… ** _What._** "

"Luna…" Harry groaned. Then, to the Truth, he said, "This is a pretty leonine contract. You have us over a barrel. And I don't know how to use alchemy."

" ** _True. But you came here. Your magic in exchange for that ability is pretty lenient. I'll even let you keep your cloak and stone. Plus, I am sure you want to know what happened to your dogfather._** "

Harry's eyes widened. "Sirius was here?! What choice did he make?"

" ** _What choice do you_** **think** ** _he made?_** "

Harry thought about that. And while Sirius was a wizard, he would have also not have refused. He probably would have wanted to stay alive to help his godson. "Luna? Are you willing to agree?"

"Of course. Magic gets a bit boring after a while. It'll be interesting to try something new."

"Okay, well, Luna says yes, so I do too."

The grin widened. " ** _Excellent choice. Just a bit of warning, though_** …" The gate nearby opened, revealing darkness, from which a massive, eldritch eye peered out. Hand-like appendages on the ends of tendrils made out of shadow lashed out of the gate and grabbed Harry and Luna and began to drag them in. " ** _This will hurt quite a bit._** "

The last thing Harry heard before the Gate (he capitalised the name without realising it) shut was Luna yelling happily, "I was right! There **are** tentacles involved!" And the last coherent thought before everything went very strange and very painful was that he hoped those weren't the last words he would ever hear…

* * *

Isaac McDougal's luck had changed with ridiculous frequency, as if Lady Luck herself had some sort of bipolar disorder. He had managed to draw most of his transmutation circles before the soldiers sent by Bradley found him. He had been forced to flee, true, but he had been doing well until the Fullmetal Brat turned up. A short teenager with a shorter fuse and a little man complex, he was nonetheless ridiculously capable of using alchemy far beyond what he should have been. McDougal was both impressed and annoyed. And he was confused as to why Edward Elric didn't have to use a transmutation circle, or why he had an automail arm. Or, for that matter, why his little brother seemed to be wearing a massive suit of armour that should have been too big for someone like him.

The Elrics had managed to capture him, but Lady Luck smiled when McDougal realised they didn't know about the tattoos of his personal transmutation circles on his hand. He faked tripping and falling, and was able to use a puddle to distract his guards via a blast of steam. He fled, knowing that once he put some distance between him and the others, he could use a water jet to cut his handcuffs off.

But his luck seemed determined to change for the worse, now that it had gotten better, if only briefly. And by a ridiculous means, too. He didn't expect two people to simply fall from the sky and land on him. After all, such things were impossible and sounded like something from a contrived story. This, of course, he would only think about in retrospect. He got knocked out by these two people, in actual fact. But he would come to curse the names of Harry Potter and Luna Lovegood during his dying days…

* * *

Edward Elric had seen some pretty strange shit in his time, a good chunk of it admittedly happening during the failed attempt to bring his mother back to life. In short order, he lost his leg, his brother lost his body, he saw some weird thing called the Truth, and was forced to sacrifice his arm in order to give his brother a body again, albeit a suit of armour.

Still, seeing Isaac McDougal on the ground, unconscious, with two rather oddly-dressed people on top of him, was amongst them. One was a young man, perhaps in his late teens or early twenties. At first, given the dark hair, he thought the guy was a relative of the Bastard Colonel, but the hair was a lot messier, and the face was different. And his green eyes flashed from behind spectacles. The other was a woman of the same age, with blonde hair and pale eyes, and a massive grin that reminded him too uncomfortably of the Truth.

"Oh, _wow_ ," the young woman was saying, getting to her feet rather shakily. "Didn't get what I was expecting with the tentacles, but that was an _experience!_ " She blinked for a bit. "Feels like the wrackspurts have gone away! Can we do it again?"

"Luna, _no_ ," the young man said. "I've had enough of mental violation when I had those bloody Occlumency 'lessons' with Snape." He rubbed his head as if to get rid of a headache, before he noticed Edward and Alphonse. "Besides, we've got company. Hello! Is this guy a friend of yours?"

"Nope. Thanks for catching him," Edward said.

"Brother? Who are these people?" Al asked.

This sparked off an unusual response in the woman, Luna. Her eyes widened, and she skipped over to Al, before rapping her knuckles on his armour. She blinked at the sound, before leaping up and grabbing his helmet and taking it. "Ooh, wow. Harry, come and have a look at this!"

Edward snatched the helmet away from Luna, while the young man, Harry, came over. "What's the matter?"

"It's a private thing!" Edward snapped as he gave Al his helmet back.

"He's hollow," Luna stage-whispered into Harry's ear. "This poor boy's soul is bound to this armour."

"A Horcrux?!"

"No, no, it's his _whole_ soul. And judging by the look this guy is giving us, I don't think he had much choice."

Edward was, indeed, getting angry. "For God's sake, shut up! You're upsetting Alphonse! We didn't ask to be that way!"

"Oh," Luna said, cocking her head. "So you've met the Truth as well, have you?"

Elric's eyes widened in shock. "How could you…?"

Luna nudged his automail leg with her own foot. "You're missing an arm and a leg, and your brother's missing his whole body. Clearly, Truth's sense of humour is more twisted than we thought. We were lucky. All we had to do was give up our magic."

Edward stared at them. Not in disbelief, really. Because that was what _he_ had said.

"Brother…isn't that what Mr Black said?"

Al's words had an effect on Harry, his eyes widening, and he rushed forward. "Mr Black? Sirius Black? Black hair, grey eyes, inveterate prankster?"

And then, a connection was made in Ed's mind. Memories of the anecdotes the older man would regale them with, impossible anecdotes, but most of them centring on one name. "Hang a moment…are you Harry Potter?"

Harry's eyes widened even further. "So you _do_ know where he is?!"

"We used to. He left home years ago with some friends of his, a couple of Ishvalans. Look, we need to get this guy to prison. He's been killing a lot of people left, right, and centre. We'll talk later. I'm Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, and this is my brother, Alphonse."

"Fullmetal? Then how come you only have two metal limbs?" Luna asked.

Edward blinked. "You know, you're the first person to ask me that." _Better that than calling me short_ , he mused inwardly.

* * *

Only Harry noticed when Luna picked up a small, red stone that seemed to glow from within. It had rolled out from underneath McDougal earlier. There was something about that stone that reminded him of something, but of what?

* * *

Colonel Roy Mustang dearly wanted some aspirin. Headaches were always an occupational hazard when dealing with Edward Elric, especially given the teenaged alchemist's hair-trigger temper, his impulsiveness, and his bad reaction to even so much as thinking someone called him short. He had been in Central quite by chance, as had the Elrics, when Isaac McDougal made himself known. Edward had captured him, only for the Elrics and the escort to mess up, and nearly let him escape.

Of course, it meant that he now had to deal with two new headaches: a pair of unknown alchemists who had ties to one of Elric's acquaintances. Mustang had met Sirius Black on a number of occasions, and had clashed with both the man, as well as the Ishvalans he was with. The boy could have been his own son, and with a haunted look to his eyes that didn't belong to anyone so young. A fading, but still-visible scar, like a jagged lightning bolt, was half-hidden by his hair. The girl was strangely ethereal, and she didn't help by making these strange comments, a few of which even her friend didn't get. Though they were apparently categorising people according to some strange names, shortly after being debriefed on their role in catching Isaac McDougal. They called it the Sorting Hat Game, whatever that was.

"I think he's a Slytherin or a Gryffindor," Luna said, peering at Roy.

"And Edward?" Harry asked. "I reckon all but Slytherin. Ditto Alphonse."

"Exactly what I thought," Luna said. She looked at Riza Hawkeye. "Gryffindor or Hufflepuff," she said.

"What are you talking about?" Riza asked.

Before her fellow blonde could answer, the door opened, and Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes, her of the glasses and stubble, came in. "Hey, Roy! I heard about McDougal getting caught. And these must be the people of the hour!" He went over to Al, and began pumping his arm up and down. "You must be the Fullmetal Alchemist! It's a pleasure to meet you!"

"Um, I'm his little brother, Alphonse. You want big brother Edward," Alphonse said, pointing to Edward.

"He's the Fullmetal Alchemist? I'm sorry, I didn't realise you were…"

"Don't say it," Edward growled.

"…So young?" Hughes asked, hoping that the answer wouldn't earn him a beatdown.

"…Better," Edward said.

"Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff," Luna declared.

Hughes wheeled to look at them. "Ah, yes! You two must be the ones who the Elrics found on top of McDougal."

"Harry Potter," Harry said. "And this beautiful eccentric goddess is Luna Lovegood."

"Eccentric?" Luna demanded, as if offended. After a moment's silence, she said, "Harry, I'm more than eccentric!"

Riza pinched her nose. "Please tell me you're not related to Major Armstrong?"

As if summoned by the very mention of his name, the big burly bear of a man burst through the door. "Colonel! Is it true? Have you caught McDougal?" bellowed the man.

Of course, the oncoming headache was partially ameliorated by the Lovegood girl blinking bemusedly, before turning to Harry and saying, "He'd have his own House." Harry promptly began to laugh, and Roy had to wonder what the big joke was…

* * *

In a town called Liore, a buxom woman with black hair and violet, slit-pupilled eyes answered the phone in her room at the massive Church of Leto. "Lust here. Oh? So McDougal's been captured? What about the Stone?" She frowned when she heard the response. "That's not good. He may have dropped it…or overused it. Or somebody's stolen it. If we're lucky, it's just some stupid thief who thought it a pretty jewel."

Suddenly, her compatriot, a rotund man with simple, cartoonish features and an even more simple demeanour chomped noisily into the leg of some fool Father Cornello had sent them. Lust, with a sigh, covered up the mouthpiece of her phone, and said, "Gluttony, try not to chew so loudly. This is a very important call." Returning to the call, she said, "Sorry, what else did you have to say?" Her eyebrows knotted together. "Two new alchemists have appeared? And one of them is the godson of Black? Hmm…should be interesting. They've been touched by the Gate too, huh? Then that makes them useful. Of course, I'll keep an eye out for them. Hopefully, they won't do too much damage here…"

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **And here you have it. The first chapter. Hope you enjoy it.**

 **And seriously, what House would Armstrong be in? I've honestly no idea, save that it would probably be Armstrong House, passed through the Armstrong line for generations…**

 **As mentioned in my foreword, the premise owes quite a bit to** ** _Ex Astris Gloria_** **by alienyouthct, as well as the pairing and the humour about Harry and Luna's relationship, while the conversation with the Truth owes a bit to similar scenes in** ** _Daughter of Flame_** **by sakurademonalchemist.**

 **But what of Sirius? And who are the Ishvalans (yes, plural rather than singular) that he was friends with? I know you can guess who one of them is.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	79. Truth and Consequences Chapter 2

_**TRUTH AND CONSEQUENCES**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **SCARS OLD AND NEW**

What a night. After encountering Lieutenant Colonel Hughes (whose enthusiastic but kindly demeanour endeared him to Harry and Luna) and the boisterous Armstrong (who was basically a combination of the friendliness and bulk of Hagrid, the eccentricity of Dumbledore, and the narcissistic boasting of Gilderoy Lockhart, though at least he could back it up), Harry and Luna were extensively debriefed and questioned about Sirius Black. Nothing serious: Mustang, for all his stern demeanour, actually believed that they came from another world, given how much Sirius stuck to that story. But he also revealed something that had nearly kept Harry up all night.

Sirius was wanted for questioning by the military for harbouring Ishvalan criminals, as well as engaging in terrorist acts. Mustang himself assured Harry that as far as he knew, the terrorist charges were trumped-up, though one of the Ishvalans he had associated with had been one of the most brutal fighters during the Ishvalan Civil War. Mustang also quietly admitted his shame at being involved in those events. He had encountered Black and the Ishvalans after they had left Resembool.

They stayed the night, as did the Elrics, at Hughes' place. Hughes' daughter was indeed adorable, and Harry felt himself vaguely jealous of the affection and love Gracie got from Hughes, remembering how the Dursleys treated him.

The next morning, before the Elrics left for Liore, Harry and Luna were called in once more, along with the Elrics, to Mustang's office. An unexpected guest was present, a man with a moustache and an eyepatch, and a demeanour both kindly and stern. He was introduced as King Fuhrer Bradley, the leader of Amestris. He asked some questions, and seemed, if not actually satisfied with the answers, then at least satisfied that Harry and Luna were telling the truth, especially once he saw a demonstration of their powers with alchemy. All that information the Truth had shoved into their heads when they were pulled into the Gate allowed them to use alchemy, if anything, more instinctively than they ever used magic. He offered to make them State Alchemists, but they refused. He then said he would send them with the Elrics, for reasons of safety. Edward was a State Alchemist himself, after all.

Luna, however, asked something that caused the man's composure to be shaken. "Does it hurt, what they did to your eye?"

Bradley blinked. Harry couldn't help but notice a series of warring emotions flit over Bradley's face, including shock and anger…before he burst out into laughter. "Not now. But it did at the time. It was the worst feeling in the world." He soon left, still chuckling.

"The last time I saw him laughing like that, it was during my exam," Edward said. "I had pretended to attack him with an alchemy-made spear, and he actually slashed it to bits with his sword, without me even noticing."

* * *

On the train to Liore, Edward and Alphonse swapped stories with Harry and Luna. Edward expressed surprising interest in the Philosopher's Stone, as he intended to use one to restore his brother's body, and his own limbs. He was horrified to learn what a Horcrux was, having asked about the term after hearing it the previous night. Most of everything else about Harry, he had heard from Sirius.

Upon prompting from Harry, Edward and Alphonse began to talk about their own lives. They came from a rural village called Resembool, and in fact, their last names came from that of their mother, Trisha Elric. Edward refused to talk about their father, Van Hohenheim, and it was up to Alphonse to tell the two ex-mages that he had left their home some time ago with no explanation. Not long after, Trisha died of the plague, and the Elric brothers were mostly cared for by the Rockbells, one of their neighbours. Pinako Rockbell, and her daughter, Winry.

Four years afterwards, Winry's parents came back as the Ishvalan Civil War heated up. They had brought back with them a trio of people who had been their patients. Two of them were Ishvalans, while a third was a man who, while an alchemist, was fighting for the Ishvalans. The three of them had gotten injured during an attack by a man named Kimblee, and had barely survived long enough to get medical treatment. The non-Ishvalan later introduced himself as Sirius Black, though he preferred to be known as 'Padfoot'. One of the Ishvalans went under the _nom de guerre_ of 'Scar', as he had a massive X-shaped scar on his forehead, while the other, apparently the older brother, went by the name of 'Flamel', after an alchemist who had apparently lived on both worlds. Flamel was, despite being an Ishvalan (the Ishvalans had issues with alchemy, considering it to go against the teachings of their god), an alchemist himself. The Rockbells had saved their lives.

Shortly after the Rockbells returned, an alchemist called Izumi Curtis helped Flamel save Resembool from flooding. Unlike Flamel, Izumi didn't have to use a transmutation circle. Although Flamel had taught the Elrics much in the way of alchemy, they begged to become her apprentices, and after some time, she acquiesced, putting them through a long period of harsh and intense training. Shortly after they returned, Sirius and his Ishvalan friends left Resembool, as the State Military was sniffing around, but also because they had a job to do, hinting that the entirety of Amestris was in trouble.

Two years later, determined to revive their mother, the Elrics attempted Human Transmutation, the greatest taboo in alchemy. And for their pains, they encountered the Truth. Alphonse couldn't remember what happened, or at least remembering meeting the Truth. However, Edward did. First, he lost his left leg to the capricious entity. Upon realising that Al had lost his body, he sacrificed his right arm to bind his soul to a suit of armour that had been in the basement. The deformed thing they had created instead of reviving their mother lived for all of less than a minute before it died.

Shortly thereafter, Roy Mustang arrived, hoping to try and recruit the Elrics as State Alchemists, particularly Edward. He was horrified to discover what had happened, but was sympathetic enough to the brothers' plight. His speech, however, persuaded Edward to become a State Alchemist, if only to access rare texts and resources that might be used to help them get back to normal.

"The thing I don't get is why the Truth didn't take anything more than your magic from you," Edward mused after they had finished their stories. "I mean, he took a lot more from us."

Luna shrugged. "I got the feeling he would have taken something had we kept our magic, even if he didn't take our lives or souls. It must get lonely in there, though. In the unlikely event that any of us perform Human Transmutation, I will keep a bar of chocolate and a teddy bear on standby."

"He has two of my limbs, and Al's body," Edward remarked sullenly. "He's got plenty of toys to play with."

Only Luna heard the faint sound of eldritch snickering.

* * *

Deep below Central, in a chamber not known to many, an old man with a beard sat on a bizarre, mechanical throne. He looked very much like some sort of deity. To virtually everyone who knew of his existence, he was called Father. But in actual fact, his name was once 'Homunculus'.

At present, only three others were in the chamber with him. One was King Bradley. The other was a young boy with dark hair and dark eyes. Despite appearing to be the son of Bradley (and indeed, this was how he presented himself in public, as Selim Bradley), they were actually siblings, of a sort. Paradoxically, the youngest and oldest siblings in this bizarre family.

Bradley, to his adoptive 'family' (unlike them, he wasn't born a Homunculus, but transformed into one), was known as Wrath. The boy who masqueraded as his son was known as Pride.

The third was an androgynous teenager (in appearance, anyway) with black spiky hair, an athletic build, and dressed in clothing that was equally as androgynous as he was. He had the physique of a teenaged boy, albeit athletic, but had a voice that could have been that of a teenager or a woman, raspy and venomous to boot. His name was Envy.

"So, these are two more ex-mages from beyond the Gate?" Father asked. "And they used alchemy without a transmutation circle?"

"Yes, Father," Wrath said. "They were surprisingly frank to Mustang. I presume it was to avoid getting in trouble."

"Well, that means that we have at least two definite Human Sacrifices to keep an eye on, along with the Elric brothers."

"This was why I told them to travel together. There is safety in numbers, after all. I'm somewhat worried about the Lovegood girl, though. The way she spoke about my eye…I think she knows of the Ultimate Eye's existence, if not its power or origins. I laughed it off, but I still can't shake the feeling she knew more than she said. Apparently she discerned Alphonse Elric's nature pretty quickly. Still, we can't forget that the two of them managed to stop Isaac McDougal."

"Feh. So the Fullmetal Runt and his bro have a couple of new troublemakers to accompany them," Envy sneered. "What happens if they really mess things up in Liore?"

"Simple," Father said. "We will send you to play the role of Father Cornello for long enough to begin the riots needed for the Nationwide Transmutation Circle. Cornello is an imbecile, whose usefulness is on the wane. He's already attracting too much attention from the State Military, attention that demands action. Unfortunately, Lust and Gluttony haven't been able to keep him on a leash."

Envy snickered at the thought of causing so much bloodshed. He had, after all, been responsible for starting the Ishvalan Civil War.

Pride then spoke up. "Have we heard anything further on the prodigal brother?"

"We've only heard rumours about Greed, nothing more," Wrath said. "Certainly nothing concrete about his whereabouts. There are rumours that he has recently retained the services of some rogue chimeras from the military, but nothing definite."

"When we do locate him, we will trust you to bring him to us," Father said.

* * *

In the shadier parts of Dublith, there is a bar and club known as the Devil's Nest. Given the rather seedy reputation of that establishment, one would be forgiven for wondering why Izumi Curtis, the apparently-devoted wife of a local butcher, was visiting it. True, she had a rather short temper and a strength that belied her beauty, but she was also a devoted wife to Sig Curtis.

She approached the rather busty woman tending the bar, and without further ado, said, "I'm here to see Padfoot."

The bartender froze briefly, before asking, "Password?"

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

The bartender nodded, before reaching below the bar and pressing a button. A rather tall, imposing man in what looked like military dress emerged. "This way," he said without any preamble.

Izumi was only slightly nervous as she was led out the back of the bar. She was good at kicking arse and taking names, and knew she could handle herself pretty well in a fight. Her only problem was her chronic illness, caused by her only venture into Human Transmutation, a venture that robbed her of a number of her organs, including her womb. All while she was trying to resurrect her stillborn child. It meant she had a tendency to vomit or cough blood, often while under stress.

Izumi was led into a back room where two men lounged on a pair of couches, attended to by beautiful women. Both had dark hair, and unusual eyes. One had short black hair, violet eyes with slitted pupils, and had a lean, muscular air about him. The other had grey eyes, a neatly-groomed beard, and was the one Izumi recognised. While the first man had a pair of women sitting on either side of him, the second had only one: a woman with short blonde hair, green eyes, and dressed in a tank top and trousers that seemed militaristic.

An Ishvalan man, dark-skinned and red-eyed, perpetually sullen in expression, was standing nearby, an X-shaped scar marring his forehead. He nodded politely to Izumi, out of courtesy rather than any true like of Curtis: he didn't like alchemists of any stripe. However, as she wasn't a State Alchemist, and detested him, the two had a small cordial relationship when they met briefly. "Mrs Curtis," he said.

"Scar," she replied, equally politely. Even in normal clothes, he still held the bearing of an Ishvalan warrior monk, and he would certainly be a challenge for her. "Where is your brother?"

"Studying and working things out," Scar said. "Despite his heresy, he has a dedicated mind, and we need it for what is coming."

"Now, now, Scar," the first dark-haired man said. "So, Izumi, I know you've got a lot of questions. The thing is, ol' Padfoot and I have entered into an alliance, of mutual benefit. It's a new concept to me, I will admit, but frankly, we share the same goal."

"Which is what? Rebelling against Central?"

"Well, very very crudely put, yes," the dark-haired man said. "Oh, but where are my manners? I am Greed."

"Who names their child Greed?" Izumi snorted.

"My father was an asshole of the highest order. We've never quite seen eye to eye for the past century." He smirked at the expression of astonishment blooming across her face. "Oh yes. I'm actually two centuries old. I'm kind of the black sheep of my family."

"Impossible," Izumi said. "Unless you're doing something really obscene with alchemy."

"I _am_ something really obscene done with alchemy," Greed said. He showed off a tattoo on his left hand, of a dragon eating its own tail, around a stylised hexagram. "You'll find it hard to believe, but I'm a Homunculus."

Izumi felt a little thrill of horror at that. "Oh no…someone was stupid enough to make one?"

"Well, to be fair, my father was very powerful. I noticed that you actually believed me pretty quickly."

"Your eyes aren't human. It would take some pretty sophisticated bio-alchemy to do that. Either that, or you're a Chimera, like I'm sure a few of these people are, or even a Homunculus. They may be thought of as impossible, but I've seen, Hell, I've _done_ some impossible things over the years."

The other seated man chuckled. "I told you she was sharp, Greed."

"Yeah, well, most people, when they learn what I am, tend to be sceptical," Greed said. "I remember what you said, Padfoot, when you first learned what I was. I had to have old Roa here beat me up." He indicated the tall, imposing man who had escorted Izumi in.

"That was fun to watch," giggled the blonde woman Padfoot was sitting next to.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure it was, Martel. But I'm sure you have more fun with your flexibility in bed with ol' Padfoot there, eh?"

Padfoot and Martel chuckled. Scar, however, scowled. "If we are quite done with the innuendo…"

"Oh, I had more, but you go right ahead," Greed said with a grin.

Scar met Izumi's eyes with an expression that said, _I'm surrounded by idiots_. Out loud, he said, "We brought you here because you are an alchemist who violated the Taboo. That means you have encountered the Truth."

"How do you know?" Izumi asked.

Greed chuckled. "Padfoot and Scar saw you forming that temporary dam during the flood in Resembool. And I know about where that little ability to do alchemy without a circle comes from. You see, that makes you very useful to the wrong people." He became serious all of a sudden, as if a switch had been flicked, and the result was chilling. "Like my father. I know something of his plans, you see, and people who have seen the Truth are key to them."

"What do you mean, your father? And what plans?"

"Izumi," Padfoot said, getting her attention. "His father was a Homunculus created in Xerxes centuries ago. The disappearance of Xerxes' people was his means of gaining power and freedom. But he intends to repeat something similar with Amestris. We're working on a way of stopping him."

"…And you want my help?" Izumi asked.

Greed shrugged. "Well, it would be nice. The fact is, Scar's brother is an expert in alchemy, but I would feel safer having another alchemist I can trust looking things over, and you've made no secret of your contempt for State Alchemists. Plus, you and your husband are pretty handy in a fight. And the less alchemists who have encountered the Truth Father has at his disposal, the better. Incidentally, a little birdy has told me that your last couple of apprentices are amongst them."

Izumi scowled. "I knew Edward has ended up as a State Alchemist. Idiot. And I wouldn't be surprised, given what I heard, that he ended up like I did. Or Alphonse, for that matter."

There was a knock on the door, and a man was let in with a telegram. Greed took it, before laughing, and passing it to Padfoot. Padfoot, however, stared in horror. "Oh no…"

"What's the matter?"

"We've got informants in Central, and one of them has passed on information to us. Did ol' Padfoot here ever tell you about his godson?"

Izumi nodded. The man had mentioned his godson when they met in Resembool, and the Elrics spoke more about the godson, having been told tales of Harry Potter by Padfoot.

"According to this," Padfoot scowled, "they've followed me here! Prongslet and the Lovegood girl! And that means they're in danger!"

"Calm down, Padfoot. Yo, Scar? You know that State Alchemist we've been researching? Y'know, the one who wasn't at Ishval, but we still suspect is a Grade-A douchebag anyway?"

"Shou Tucker, the Sewing Life Alchemist. The one who may well have turned his wife into a very crude Chimera nearly two years ago. What of him?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if the Elrics head to East City before long. They're heading to Liore, and Mustang has his post at East City. Do you think you can stand both being secret bodyguard to them, as well as investigating Tucker?"

Scar nodded after a moment's contemplation. "Very well. And should I find evidence of wrongdoing?"

"I'll leave it up to your discretion."

Izumi nearly expected a smile to appear on Scar's face. All that appeared was a stoic, grim determination that was perhaps more disturbing. The man was driven, presumably to avenge his people, and Heaven help anyone in his way, for nobody else would…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, we have Luna the Homunculus Detector, the Homunculi plotting, and Greed and Sirius not only teaming up (they'll be called the New Marauders, incidentally), but they're asking Izumi for help. Oh, and I'm shipping Sirius and Martel.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	80. Truth and Consequences Chapter 3

_**TRUTH AND CONSEQUENCES**_

 **CHAPTER 3:**

 **DEADLY SINS**

Luna had an uncanny knack for saying the wrong things at the wrong time. Thankfully, she also had the knack of saying them in just the right way that, instead of taking offence, people's brains tended to shut down in protest rather than take umbrage.

A case in point was shortly after they arrived in Liore, and, to a bunch of people singing the praises of Father Cornello, Luna said, upon looking at the massive cathedral, that he was compensating for something. Thankfully, Harry and the Elrics managed to hold onto their laughter until they were well out of earshot of the bemused citizens, including one Rosé Thomas, a silly girl who wholeheartedly believed that her devotion to the god Leto and Father Cornello would mean her brother could be brought back from the dead.

Harry was reminded a little of Ginny Weasley and her single-minded devotion to him. Letting her down had not been easy by any means. At least they managed to remain friends afterwards.

Luna and Harry decided to explore on their own, while the Elric brothers did some investigating. Well, it was more like Luna decided, as was her wont, to go somewhere, and Harry followed. The Lovegood family in general tended to have very unconventional ideas of what defined danger. It was partly this that led to the death of Luna's mother. It was what led to Luna going through the Veil in the first place, albeit once they confirmed that it wouldn't definitely end in the death of the traverser.

So it was to Harry's utter lack of surprise that they ended up in a chamber in the cathedral with a pair of people who just screamed bad news at him. He didn't even wonder how he got into this situation. Between Luna's unerring tendency to track down danger, and Harry's luck, it was probably inevitable.

One looked like a cartoon caricature of an obese man, with a lump for a nose, barely defined eyes and mouth, and dressed in black coveralls. The other was, as Luna would put it later, 'a sexual goddess', with luscious black hair framing a cruelly beautiful face, and violet eyes with pupils that were slits, like those of a cat or a reptile. The woman was dressed in a slinky black dress, complete with opera gloves, and above her cleavage was a tattoo of an Ouroboros.

"Look, Lust! Intruders!" the fat one said in a vaguely childish tone.

"I can see that, Gluttony," the woman purred, albeit with a slightly exasperated, long-suffering edge to her sultry voice.

"Can I eat them, please, Lust?" Gluttony demanded.

"No, you can't." Lust glared at them. "You know, this could be considered trespassing."

"It's a church, a public building, isn't it?" Luna asked blithely. "Rather nice building, too. Must've been expensive to build." She went over and licked the wall(1). "Hmm. Good year, if not exactly vintage."

Lust blinked at her, before turning her attention to Harry. "What are you two doing here?"

"Luna goes where she wants," Harry said. "I just get swept along in the wake."

Luna skipped merrily over to Lust, and peered at her cleavage, or rather, just above it. "Ooh, same as Bradley had. Probably a less painful area for a tattoo than an eye, though." She then skipped over to Gluttony, and said, "Say 'ah'."

Gluttony obliged, and Harry saw the same Ouroboros tattoo on his tongue. "So, we have eye, tongue, and cleavage," Luna said. "Ooh, maybe someone's got it tattooed on their…"

"Luna! I don't want to have to Obliviate myself if you say anything further," Harry said.

The young woman pouted. Lust recovered herself, and said, "I'll ask again, what are you doing?"

"This," Luna said, grabbing Lust's head and kissing her deeply. Harry gaped as the blonde kissed the black-haired woman rather passionately. Then, she broke it off, and grinned. "Tasted like peppermint," she confided to Harry in a stage whisper.

"Luna, please stop pissing off the mysterious people, one of whom seems to be a cannibal."

"Harry, he's not a cannibal, he's an omnivore. He will eat anything. Including people."

"…Still makes him a cannibal."

Gluttony peered at Lust. "What's a cannibal, Lust?"

The buxom woman was merely looking at Harry, torn between a glare and bemusement. Eventually, she said, "You do know I'm going to have to explain it to him?"

Luna shrugged. "Do you have pudding?"

Lust blinked, before saying, "Gluttony ate it all."

"It was delicious!" Gluttony exclaimed with a grin.

"Tea, then?" Luna asked.

* * *

It was surreal to sit down to tea with a buxom woman who had the name of Lust. She seemed to accept that, if these people were going to be here and be annoying, might as well roll with it.

"I swear, it's like babysitting," Lust said, eyeing Gluttony, who was sitting by himself, looking at a loss for something to do. "And I'm not just talking about my darling little brother there. At least he's housetrained." She took a sip from a teacup (filled with chamomile tea, apparently). "So, Miss Lovegood, how could you tell Bradley had an Ouroboros tattoo on his eye?"

"She sees things," Harry said. "People think she sees things that aren't there. Technically, they're correct. But everything she sees is real, even if it doesn't exactly exist on what we like to think of as reality. Plus, she doesn't have the same filters as anyone else. It's certainly an experience being her best friend."

"Ahem," Luna interjected.

"And sounding board."

"Ahem."

"…And sexual partner." He looked at Luna. "Please stop saying 'ahem'. Brings back too many memories of Umbridge."

"Ahem, ahem," Luna said, just to be perverse.

Lust looked at them, before saying, "So, do you know what we are?"

"Ooh, at a guess, given that those are less tattoos and more like a sort of unholy hybrid of birthmark and manufacturer's stamp, I'd say…Homunculi?"

"Gesundheit," Harry said facetiously, even as Lust scowled.

"You know and talk too much, you know that?" Lust asked.

"Of course I do," Luna said blithely. "Of course, depends on who's doing too much talking."

Lust frowned, as if reminded by Luna's words about something, before she plucked a small walkie-talkie from her cleavage, and listened to it for about a minute. "Oh, you stupid fat son of a bitch!" she snarled. On their looks, even one from Gluttony (who technically qualified, even if his only parent was actually a bastard rather than a bitch), she clarified. "Sorry, Gluttony, I meant Cornello. He's doing some stupid villain monologue thing to the Elrics and…dammit, the Elrics have brought along one of the townsfolk." She took a couple of calming breaths, before she said, "I am going to kill him. I just know that this stress is going to overcome my natural immunity to age and give me bloody wrinkles!"

"What about us? Aren't you going to kill us?" Luna sounded vaguely offended.

"Unfortunately, that's not on the agenda," Lust said. "And Cornello is about to…"

"Become a Darwin Award(2)?" Harry asked.

"…I don't know what that is, but if by that, you mean he will die due to his own stupidity, then yes." Lust sighed. "I need more chamomile tea."

"Should we help the Elrics?" Harry asked.

Luna smiled. "They will be just fine."

* * *

"Shit, shit, shit!" Edward yelled as he dodged the attacks of the chimera trying to make a meal out of him, while Cornello looked on smugly and Rosé looked on in horror.

* * *

"Why do I get the feeling that they _aren't_ fine?"

"I said they _will_ be fine," Luna said. "Future tense, not present tense. And speaking of tense, you look it." This last was said to Lust. "When was the last time you had sex?"

Lust blinked. "What."

"I'm just saying, you look tense. I think it's because you're a bit pent-up. Which I think is ironic because you're called 'Lust' and all."

After a moment of her opening her mouth and closing it like a stunned fish, Lust eventually said, "Damn, I can't believe it's been that long."

"Well, I know how to fix that!" Luna said, rather too cheerfully. "Come on, Harry!"

* * *

Needless to say, the subsequent hour was somewhat strange. The former Boy Who Lived, the current Girl Who Is Bloody Strange, and a two and a half centuries-old crime against humanity with a body many women would die to have.

Afterwards, as they were putting their clothing back on, Lust remarked, "I actually _do_ feel more relaxed. I'm still going to kill Cornello, though, especially as he's probably trying to kill the Elric brothers. Killing idiots is a great stress relief."

Harry looked at Luna. "Should we let her?"

"He's a narcissistic bastard who plays on religious belief to trick the people, and he's probably tried to kill Edward and Alphonse." Luna shrugged. "I find myself not bothered."

As they emerged, Gluttony said, "Lust! Lust! The short one tricked the old fat man into boasting about his plans to the whole city!"

Harry and Luna stared at each other, before laughing. Lust facepalmed. " _Damn it,_ Cornello. And here I was feeling much less stressed. Come on, Gluttony. You two had better leave. I'm sure the Elrics will be leaving before long."

* * *

Harry and Luna left the two Homunculi, and exited the church to find Rosé pointing a gun at the Elrics. _Times like these I miss having a wand_ , Harry thought to himself. _A simple_ Expelliarmus, _and she wouldn't be threatening them_.

Thankfully, Edward managed to bring her down. But as the Elrics walked by, Luna hissed to Harry, "The Stone. The Resurrection Stone."

"Really? Won't that make things worse?"

"Not if we watch her."

Their train didn't leave until the next morning, so Harry allowed Rosé to borrow the Resurrection Stone, though not before warning her very strongly about what it did. "But why would you do this for me?" Rosé asked.

"Because…well, you need some closure, don't you?" Harry asked. "As long as you realise that he can't come back from the dead for good, well…"

Rosé looked at him, before nodding. The quintet went to a small park, a little way away from the church, before she finally used it to speak to her deceased boyfriend, Cain(3). The reunion was both heartwrenching and heartwarming. In the end, though, Rosé accepted, and allowed her boyfriend to pass back through to the world of the dead.

As she handed the Stone back, she asked, quietly, "How do I know that wasn't a trick?"

Harry shrugged. "If it is a trick, I was fooled. Maybe I should tell you about the Three Brothers. Rosé, believe me when I say, it's hard to find a reason to live. All my life, I was shaped into a weapon by a meddling old goat. With the best intentions, but you know what they say about the road to Hell. In a way, I'm still searching for one. You've got your legs, like Edward said. You've got a brain. And you've got a fine heart. Don't waste them."

Rosé smiled, a little shakily. "If it was a trick, it was better than the ones Cornello did." She sighed, but just as she made her way away, Luna stopped her.

"Rosé, things are going to go bad in this town for a few days. Too many wrackspurts. I suggest warning your closest friends and leaving town for…a couple of weeks? Just take a holiday or something."

"Uh…okay?"

"Believe me, Luna knows what she's talking about," Harry said.

* * *

As they went to the hotel, Edward glared at them. "Where the hell were you two when I needed you?"

"We got preoccupied," Luna said. "Met a couple of Homunculi. Cleared the wrackspurts from one of them."

"Wait, wait, hold up…did you say _Homunculi?_ " Edward asked incredulously.

"Of course."

"But nobody's ever made a Homunculus," Alphonse protested.

"Well, someone's made at least seven."

"Seven?" Harry asked.

"We've met three. And two of them are called Lust and Gluttony. They're named for two of the Deadly Sins. The other was called Bradley, but I've never heard of a Deadly Sin called Bradley before."

Edward gaped at Luna, and Alphonse, despite his helmet having no expression, gave a similar vibe just from his posture. "Fuhrer Bradley…is a Homunculus?" Edward asked incredulously.

"Yes."

Edward blinked at Luna, before saying, "Y'know what? Fuck it. I don't wanna know until I have a good night's sleep. After we get on the train, you're going to tell me everything." Seeing the look on Harry's face, which said, _Choose your words with care, in case she does tell you everything from the very beginning_ , he corrected himself. "Everything that happened to you two today, I mean."

* * *

Flicking the blood and brain matter from her fingers, Lust watched as Cornello, his skull pierced by her Ultimate Spear (which basically amounted to her sharpening and lengthening her fingers into skull-piercing lances of doom), slumped to the floor, a terminally imbecilic expression of surprise on his face. Sadly, it wasn't as stress-relieving as her little session with Luna and Harry.

She decided that she needed to report back to Wrath. Envy would have to be sent here ASAP to cover for Cornello. She barely registered the sound of Gluttony succumbing to temptation and chowing down on Cornello's corpse, despite her admonition to the contrary. She sighed at his simple-mindedness. She loved him as siblings do, she really did, but there were times when he was a pain in the derriere.

Even as she thought about their next plan of attack, she mused on Harry Potter and Luna Lovegood. And wondered if she could persuade Father, once the Promised Day had come and gone, to let her keep them…

 **CHAPTER 3 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Well. That just happened. And if this chapter seems very different in tone to the previous two, with the humour reaching crack-like levels, well, this is because it just seemed to write itself as the twisted mutant offspring of the writing of Gregg Landsman and sakurademonalchemist. Luna meeting Lust. I mean, it could only end in one of two ways: either what happens above, or Luna pissing Lust off enough to get speared. As it is, these revelations are definitely going to be changing the course of the canon story. Then again, so are Sirius' actions in this world.**

 **Anyway, hope you liked this chapter, though something tells me it'll be controversial. Once I got into my groove, I actually enjoyed writing it. Of course, the next chapter, which will concentrate on Shou Tucker, will be somewhat more serious. Especially given Nina's fate.**

 **If I finish the next chapter any time soon, I'll hold back on it until the big Christmas update.**

 **Review-answering time!** **Jostanos** **: If by that, you mean Sirius and his New Marauders, well, wait and see. Sirius' actions in this world may alienate Harry and Luna.**

 **Guest** **: During the Ishvalan War. Sirius ended up in the middle of that conflict when he went through the Veil. Details to be revealed later, but he basically helped save Scar, Scar's brother, and Winry's parents.**

 **Ambiguity in D Major** **: Thanks. Just about every other story in this crossover is about either Ed and/or Al ending up at Hogwarts (either as teacher/s or student/s), or Harry ending up in Amestris as a young child. In fact, the first spur for this story was sakurademonalchemist's** ** _Daughter of Flame_** **, where Harry (or rather, Angel Potter, as it is a female Harry story) travels to Amestris after her fourth year, and actually participates in the events of** ** _Fullmetal Alchemist_** **. That being said, that story is based more on the first anime than the manga (and thus,** ** _Brotherhood_** **), though Truth is a pivotal character. I'm hoping that my story is moderately original in this particular crossover, though as mentioned before, quite a bit was inspired by alienyouthct's** ** _Ex Astris Gloria_** **.**

 **1\. Putting a little bit of the Tenth Doctor into Luna here. He had a tendency to lick things like walls too.**

 **2\. The Darwin Awards' first book was released in 2000, and the actual website has been around since 1993. Harry and Luna go through the Veil sometime between 2001 and 2002 in this story (taking Sirius' own plunge through the Veil as 1996, and Harry's final year being 1997/1998).**

 **3\. Cain is the name given to Rosé's boyfriend in the original anime adaptation, but is never named in the manga or** ** _Brotherhood_** **. I decided, why waste a perfectly good name?**


	81. Truth and Consequences Chapter 4

**Before I go on, this chapter's solution to what happened to poor Nina was a response to calls for me to save her while writing _Saligia_. A pity I couldn't implement it in that work...**

* * *

 **TRUTH AND CONSEQUENCES**

 **CHAPTER 4:**

 **TUCKER**

The train trip was somewhat eventful, to say the least. They made their way to Youswell briefly, and dealt with a rather greedy man by the name of Yoki, though Harry was far from impressed by the town's attitude to Edward. Understandable, yes, but they treated him like dirt because he had links to the military, even if Edward was nothing like the more militaristic State Alchemists. Edward never made it a secret that he used the military to use its resources.

Then, there were those terrorists on the train to East City. Harry had more difficulty dealing with Death Eaters, even with alchemy instead of magic. And he got to see Roy Mustang's brand of alchemy, which was impressive, if he hadn't seen fire spells ranging from Incendio all the way up to Fiendfyre.

Edward, having discussed the chimera in Liore with Mustang, wanted to find out more about bio-alchemy. Given that they had learned Bradley was a Homunculus, the Elrics, Harry and Luna resolved to keep quiet about it to Mustang, in case it made things worse. Edward could hardly believe that Harry, Luna, and Lust had enjoyed an hour's hedonism while he was fighting off Cornello and his goons, as well as tricking him into revealing their plans.

He had also asked to use the Resurrection Stone to talk to his mother. It was something of a sad but heartwarming sight to see Trisha Elric talk to her sons, and when Edward handed it back he had said, " _That could be addicting as hell. Don't give it to me ever again._ "

In any case, the quartet of alchemists had been ferried to the home of Shou Tucker, the Sewing Life Alchemist, another civilian who was a State Alchemist only relatively loosely attached to the military. He was probably best known for creating a chimera that could talk just under two years ago, which was how he got his accreditation. Of course, its only words were _I want to die_ , repeated until it managed to starve itself to death. So, a wonderfully sentimental story about wishes being granted then.

They were greeted at the door by an absolutely massive dog who pounced on Ed, knocking him prone with his weight, and then a girl of about four with brown hair greeting the visitors happily. "Dad, look, we've got guests today!"

"And you let Alexander roam," said a rather morose-looking man with blonde hair and glasses, a little dishevelled. "I'm so sorry about this," he added.

* * *

Shou Tucker (for that was the man who had come to the door) led the quartet, along with Mustang, into his house. Harry noted it hadn't been cleaned properly for a while. Tucker claimed it was due to his wife leaving him.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Edward Elric," Shou said. "I've heard of the exploits of the youngest State Alchemist. And I have heard of your brother as well." He looked at Harry and Luna. "I'm not sure I knew of anyone else who travelled with you."

"These guys only joined us recently," Edward said. "Harry Potter, and Luna Lovegood. They're self-taught alchemists, but they're pretty damn good. Helped us catch the Freezing Alchemist."

"How interesting," Tucker said. Harry realised that Luna was tensing up slightly in the man's presence. "So, what can I do for you, Edward Elric?"

"Edward's interested in bio-alchemy research," Mustang answered for the blonde teenager. "As you're the leading authority in this city in the field, I thought he could look at your research notes."

"Of course he can," Tucker said. "But alchemy is about Equivalent Exchange, as you very well know. I'll show you what's up my sleeve, Edward, providing you reciprocate."

Roy nearly protested, but Edward, resigned, removed his coat, revealing his automail arm. Over tea, Edward and Alphonse related their story.

Tucker, his usually mournful face becoming even more so, murmured, "A tragic story. The loss of your mother spurred you to such…extreme measures."

"As far as my superiors are concerned, he lost his arms during the Ishvalan Civil War. His attempt at human transmutation is a secret of the highest level, Dr Tucker," Mustang reminded the Sewing Life Alchemist.

"Of course," Tucker agreed. "The military can't afford to lose someone of his prodigious talent. I'll show you my lab, and then I'll show you my library."

* * *

The laboratory was little more than a room filled with cages, where grotesque hybrids of animals writhed, growled, and screeched. Tucker said, apologetically, "It's never easy making a chimera of any kind. Biological fusion often causes a lot of problems. My personal library is this way."

He opened a door to a room filled with shelves upon shelves of textbooks and notebooks. Edward gaped in awe. "Wow, this is…great. Thanks, Dr Tucker!"

"You're welcome. I'll be in the lab, working, if you need me."

Edward and Al picked some shelves to start. Harry followed Luna as she skipped over to another one. Mustang told them he would send his people to pick them up at the end of the day. Already, Edward and Al were concentrating on their files, while Luna and Harry were still searching for what files they intended to read. Tucker and Mustang made a comment on the Elrics' ability to focus on their task, before they took their leave of them.

Once the door had closed, Harry asked Luna, quietly, "What's wrong?"

"I don't know…just a feeling," she said, pulling out a notebook and handing it to Harry. "You know I can't always see everything, or understand everything. I would go mad. Well, more than I already am."

"All interesting people are a little mad."

"Who said I'm only a _little_ mad?" Luna asked wryly.

Harry opened up the notebook, only to have a piece of paper flutter to the ground. He picked it up, and frowned at it. It was some sort of transmutation circle, and whatever it was, he didn't like the look of it. He pocketed it, just in case. The notebook itself was rather dry and boring, a series of observations of the talking chimera Tucker had created. There was something about the cold, detached language that set Harry's teeth on edge. Tucker had even given it a name: Echidna. He thought an echidna was a spiked mammal from Australia. Luna, however, pointed out that the name came from Greek mythology, meaning a mother of monsters.

The other notebooks were somewhat better. There was less of that cold, dry attitude in the other notebooks. After a couple of hours, he went to stretch his legs, as did Luna. He asked Tucker if he could get a glass of water, and was given the okay. As he filled a glass of water, though, he looked out the window, and saw, across the street, a man standing, dressed in a white shirt and hooded jacket, black trousers, and tinted glasses. He had dark skin, white hair, and an X-shaped scar across his head. He could have been Ishvalan, but even if he hadn't been wearing dark glasses, they wouldn't have been able to see the distinctive red eyes.

Luna saw him too. "Well, well…either he is desperate for real estate, or he is watching someone here. Maybe Dr Tucker? Or us?"

The man seemed to notice Harry and Luna in the window. He briefly whipped out a camera, and took a picture, before he walked away. Harry frowned. "Hang on a moment…didn't the Elrics tell us that Sirius went around with an Ishvalan with an X-shaped scar on his forehead?"

Luna nodded. "If Sirius doesn't know about us being here yet, he will soon."

"Always assuming he's still alive."

"The State Military seems to think so. I don't think they'd do that if they knew he was dead."

* * *

Later, Al got into playing with Nina, which Luna joined in. Edward berated them, only to be tackled by a playful Alexander, who was chased by Edward. Harry chuckled at the antics, but continued reading through the notebooks.

At the end of it, Edward was tired when Jean Havoc came around to pick them up. When he wondered what had happened, considering that Edward was sprawled underneath a triumphant Alexander, Edward claimed that he was taking a break from intensive research.

To which Tucker could only reply, "Well, after all that, you must be dog-tired.(1)" He chuckled at the exasperated look on Edward's face. "Feel free to come back tomorrow."

As they left, Havoc said, "By the way, before I forget, the Colonel told me to give you a message. Your Assessment Day is coming soon."

Tucker seemed to freeze, before saying, "Yes, I know."

As they got in the car back to their hotel, Harry asked, "Assessment Day?"

Edward nodded. "State Alchemists who aren't actually part of the military per se have to complete an annual assessment by presenting their research. I'll have to do mine soon. Anyway, if you get a bad assessment one year, you have another year to present a favourable assessment, or else they'll strip you of your status as a State Alchemist."

Havoc offered his tuppence worth. "And Tucker had a bad assessment last year. Not as much original or groundbreaking research. He'd better come up with something good this year, or he'll get stripped of his status. He'll also lose the grant money: no use in funding a useless State Alchemist after all. I know it's tough, given that he has a kid and all, but he should be able to find work anyway."

Luna was frowning quietly to herself. "Two years…" she murmured.

"Sorry, what?" Harry asked.

"Nina said her mother left them two years ago…"

* * *

Luna kept whatever was bothering her to herself, and the next day, they went back to the house, and alternated between research and playing with Nina and Alexander. Nina admitted to feeling lonely, as her father was frequently isolated in his laboratory. However, a dark pall seemed to hang over Luna. And Harry began to realise a possible reason why. Two years…

Tucker's wife disappeared at roughly the same time as a talking chimera was created by him. But how could they prove it? Assuming it was true?

Unfortunately, they got the proof on the third day. The house was dark, and rainclouds were gathering, as if the weather itself was in on what was going on. They eventually found Tucker in his laboratory, squatting next to some sort of animal. "Oh, hi, it's you guys. Look, my latest creation: a chimera that talks like a human."

The chimera looked vaguely like a dog, or maybe a little leonine, with a mane of fur that looked vaguely like hair. It stared at them with soulful eyes. Harry had a very, very bad feeling about this.

"Come on, listen," Tucker said, before speaking to the chimera. "See that person? That is Edward."

" _Ed…Edward?_ " the creature asked, in a distorted growl of a voice that seemed vaguely pitiful.

"Yes, very good. You did well."

" _Did…well?_ "

"It really does talk," Edward said in astonishment.

"And it really saved my bacon," Tucker said, standing and moving over to a desk. "Just in time for Assessment Day. That grant money is badly needed."

Harry and Luna stood in horror, not trusting themselves to speak as Edward gently petted the chimera on its head. " _Edward? Edward?_ " the chimera parroted. Then, it spoke three syllables, two words, that brought it home to Edward what he was dealing with.

" _Big brother?_ "

A clap of thunder punctuated the revelation. Luna and Harry could see the revelation in his posture. Quietly, all too-calmly, he asked, "Dr Tucker…you got that licence for the talking chimera two years ago, didn't you?"

"Of course. My wife ran out on me just before I attained it."

"Then I have one more question for you. _Where the hell is Nina and Alexander?!_ "

You could see the moment when the mask came off. Oh, you could see the glimpses of something furtive beneath, but you could have chalked that down to a man who was merely nervous, neurotic. But now, you could see the true man beneath as he glared at Edward, and muttered, "Perceptive little bastard, aren't you?"

There was no remorse at being caught. Just a petty anger at work interrupted. Harry charged forward, pushing Edward aside, and slammed Tucker into the wall, before clapping his hands together, and slamming them into the wall. Bands of wood spat out of the wall and wrapped around the evil alchemist, restraining him. "I should have realised it sooner," Harry hissed. "Or rather, I should have believed that a man willing to do that to his own wife would have no qualms about doing that to his own daughter. Luna got a bad vibe from you. And she's rarely wrong."

Tucker scoffed. "A lunatic ditz who doesn't understand the value of scientific advances."

"Shut up," Edward snarled. "There's lines you shouldn't cross, like using humans in stuff like this!"

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Fullmetal Alchemist? Your righteous anger is nothing more than hypocritical whining! You and I, we are so much alike, meddling in fields that fools call forbidden. It's only through this that real progress is made!"

"SHUT UP!" Edward yelled. "WE ARE NOT THE SAME!"

"YOU'RE LYING TO YOURSELF, FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST! YOU PUSHED BACK THE BOUNDARIES BECAUSE THAT IS WHAT WE DO TO BOUNDARIES! FORBIDDEN FRUIT IS ALWAYS THE MOST TEMPTING!"

Edward began punching, screaming angrily at Tucker, before Al intervened, holding back his fist. "Brother! Stop it. Or he'll die."

"Yeah, listen to your little brother, Edward," Tucker taunted.

"Not another word, Tucker," Al said quietly. "Or I'll lose control."

Luna merely walked over to him, and gazed evenly at him. "What?" Tucker asked.

His only response was a wad of spit to the face. Harry was shocked. Luna had never spat on anyone before. Her eyes now glimmered with contempt and loathing. She then walked over to Nina.

Meanwhile, Harry pulled the drawing of the transmutation circle out of his pocket. As he looked at it, Tucker demanded, "Where did you find that? I was looking for it last night!"

"Why? Is this what circle you used to fuse Nina and Alexander?" Harry asked. Tucker's silence was damning, and when Harry's eyes returned to it, he felt the knowledge the Gate had given him plucking away at the symbols and lines…until he saw how it worked. And more importantly, he had an idea. It was a chance in a million, but…

"Give that back to me you thief! There are harsh penalties for stealing the work of a State Alchemist!" Tucker snarled.

"Edward…call Mustang. Tell him to bring us…and Nina back to his headquarters."

"But why? We can't do anything to help her, can we?" Alphonse asked.

"I think we have a slight chance of doing so."

* * *

A few hours later, Shou Tucker was alone in his house, with only a couple of guards outside his mansion. Why couldn't they understand how important his research was? Sacrifices needed to be made. And yet, those thieves and hypocrites had stolen his work away. Mustang refused to listen to him, that pyromaniacal bully. He took the word of a quartet of young snoops and thieves over that of a respected State Alchemist!

Suddenly, he heard the front door creak open. And then, the heavy tread of footsteps…

* * *

Nina, tranquilised, lay in the middle of a circle the Elrics were chalking out under Luna and Harry's careful direction. Luna had corrected many of the symbols in Harry's transmutation circle, and suggested a few different renderings of the geometric shapes.

Mustang looked on, his face set in anger and horror. "Can you really reverse what happened to her?" he asked.

"It's possible. But it's risky, obviously," Harry said. "The problem is, Nina and Alexander are now one being. We can't separate the two of them without one of them dying in the process. The problem is, we don't know which one."

* * *

"Who's there?!" Shou Tucker demanded as the door to his room opened.

A man in a hooded coat, dark glasses, an X-shaped scar on his forehead, and with dark skin and white hair was standing in the entrance. He was an imposing man. If looks could kill, Tucker would be a smoking spot on the ground. "Shou Tucker, the Sewing Life Alchemist."

"Yes, that's me, but who are you? What did you do to the guards?"

"The guards shall sleep for the moment. They are not my target. You are."

* * *

"Okay…here goes nothing…" Harry said.

"But what if you're wrong?" Edward asked.

"Then we failed trying to do the right thing," Luna said.

The four young alchemists, as Mustang watched on, slammed their hands to the ground, activating the circle, which lit up. The energies of an alchemic reaction began to consume the chimera that was Nina…

* * *

Suddenly, the scarred man lunged, gripping Tucker's head painfully. "All alchemists stray from the path of God, but you more so than others. You may not have been involved in the Ishvalan War, but your crimes are still abhorrent. Your judgement is nigh."

Tucker had no time to scream before the scarred man lashed out with his other hand, and gripped his neck. With incredible strength, the man crushed his windpipe, before gripping his head in two hands now, and then twisting. The last thing Tucker heard was his own neck breaking…

* * *

An explosion of blood splattered across the circle, and when Mustang lowered his forearm, he found himself looking at two bloodsoaked forms in the circle. It was impossible to tell which one was still alive.

At least till one of them stirred and moaned. Mustang whipped off his coat, and draped it around the shivering, bloodstained form. Which then looked at him with large, sad eyes, and then back at the other form, before saying, "Alexander…no…"

It was heartwrenching to see Nina Tucker, now apparently back to normal, crying over the corpse of her pet dog. But the Elrics, Harry, Luna and Mustang felt the faintest glimmer of triumph. They'd managed to save Nina from a horrible fate. And that was worth witnessing the sorrow of a little girl who otherwise would have been a misshapen creature for the rest of her life…

 **CHAPTER 4 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **It's the Shou Tucker bit. And yes, I'm sorry if this bit where Nina is saved is somewhat contrived. I wanted to do this while writing my pure** ** _Fullmetal Alchemist_** **fic,** ** _Saligia_** **. One of the reviewers, Alchemical Guest, wanted Nina to be saved in that work, but I decided not to. However, for this fic, I decided to have some means of saving Nina. In case you're wondering why Shou left the circle he used to create a chimera out where anyone could find it, well, he had simply put it into the notebook absentmindedly and forgot about it. I was going to have Luna do the circle to save Nina, before I decided to have Harry do most of it. I hope you like the fact that Nina survives this iteration of the** ** _Fullmetal Alchemist_** **story.**

 **Review-answering time!** **Emdee** **: A Leonine contract is basically a contract done under duress. The term comes from the Aesop fable** ** _The Lion and His Fellow Hunters_** **. A good, if extreme, example would be the contract Kyuubey offers to Mami when she's dying in a car accident in** ** _Puella Magi Madoka Magica_** **: Mami either signs the contract and survives, or else dies.**

 **1\. I love this line in the dub version of** ** _Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood_** **. It works so much better than the more literal translation, especially with Chuck Huber's delivery.**


	82. Truth and Consequences Chapter 5

_**TRUTH AND CONSEQUENCES**_

 **CHAPTER 5:**

 **MARCOH, POLO**

It was fun to watch Liore getting consumed by riots, Lust thought. But as much as she enjoyed the death and destruction these fools were inflicting on themselves, she found herself desiring something else. Something her siblings couldn't give her. Well, except maybe for Envy. Envy could change his appearance into something suitable for Lust's own desire. She didn't really care that, as Envy was technically her brother, it would be considered incest. She had helped initiate massacres and wars, why should she draw the line at incest? It wasn't like they could have children anyway.

Speaking of which, Envy, who had ditched his disgusting disguise as Cornello, was talking as Gluttony chowed down on Cornello's luckless subordinate, the one who had seen Envy transform. "Hey, Lust? Earth to Lust? Are you in there?" He waved a hand in front of the buxom Homunculus.

"Hmm?" Lust blinked, shaking herself from her reverie. "Sorry, I was distracted."

Envy raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Man, that's not like you, sis. So, what's the matter?"

"Nothing, really. I just find myself yearning for another experience."

"Huh?"

Lust gestured at Envy to come with her, out of earshot of Gluttony. She didn't want his innocence sullied any further. After they made their way out of the way, Lust said, "You know those two new Sacrifices who turned up out of nowhere? The ones accompanying the Elrics?"

"Oh yeah. Heard of them from Wrath. Harry Potter and Luna Lovegood. The girl seemed to see his tattoo or something."

"She knows what we are. I swear, she acts like a lunatic, but she's more perceptive than most. I don't think she knows anything about the plan, though. Despite all that, I find myself…well, wanting to keep them after the Promised Day."

"Keep them? Why?"

"Let me tell you something, Envy. Until they came along, it had been the best part of five decades since I had sex with someone. I'm called Lust, and yet the number of sexual partners I have had over the centuries, I could count on two hands. And I've never had as good a time as I did when they came along."

Envy grinned, showing perhaps too many teeth in his lasciviousness. "Ooh! Lust got a nice little threesome, eh? Details! I need details, or it didn't happen!"

Lust chuckled. "Well, it started when they used an alchemic reaction not unlike one McDougal used to turn some water into ice…"

* * *

It was some time before Harry, Luna, and the Elrics could leave East City. Shou Tucker had been murdered, his neck broken. The guards reported being assaulted by someone who may have been an Ishvalan, with a distinctive cross-shaped scar on his forehead. It matched the description of Scar, the Ishvalan insurgent whom Sirius was supposed to be an ally of.

All of which meant that they needed to find a home for Nina. After discussing the matter, Mustang decided to send Nina Tucker (who was still finding it hard to understand what her father did to her, and what happened to him) to Central, and to Lieutenant-Colonel Maes Hughes. Hughes had a daughter already, Gracie, but he was willing to adopt the traumatised Nina.

Mustang also confiscated the transmutation circle that Harry had found. He didn't want anyone to replicate Tucker's results. That they managed to reverse what happened to Nina was a miracle, especially considering it could have been her that died, and not Alexander. Edward was still somewhat awestruck that Harry had managed to think of a circle that reversed Nina's condition, though when he looked at Tucker's original circle himself, he knew that he would have used the same sort of thing.

Despite the fact that Scar was probably no danger to any of them, Mustang assigned Armstrong to watch over them as they travelled (with Mustang seeming to indicate it was the higher-ups who had ordered this, rather than what he truly wanted). They intended to visit Resembool, if only to get Ed's automail serviced and catch up. Alphonse had also suggested that Harry and Luna meet the Rockbells, if only because Sirius had regaled them with tales of Harry.

The Elrics, the two former magic users, and the burly form of Armstrong were soon on their way to Resembool. Despite his frequently hammy nature and somewhat narcissistic tendencies, Harry soon realised that, like with Hagrid, Armstrong was actually quite a gentle and caring soul. He was also quite intelligent and cultured: Luna and Harry had some interesting conversations with him.

Luna also managed to indicate to Harry that they had another minder. Harry managed to see who it was: none other than Lust. And the things Luna whispered into his ear made Harry blush.

They had stopped for some hours in some hick town in the arse-end of Amestris, and Armstrong happened to be looking out the window when he suddenly called out to someone he called Dr Marcoh. Said person promptly fled as if the very hounds of hell were on his heels. Armstrong explained that Marcoh was a State Alchemist who vanished after the Ishvalan War. Not only that, but he was an expert in medical alchemy, which were the magic words to the Elrics' ears.

They searched the town, using a sketch Armstrong had made from memory of Marcoh. Many of the townspeople they asked recognised him, naming him as 'Dr Mauro'. He would heal injuries and illnesses with a 'flash of light', indicating that it was alchemy that the man used, strongly suggesting that this was the errant doctor.

However, when they found Marcoh's surgery and home, they got a rather cold welcome. Marcoh greeted them at the door with a gun and a desperate look on his face. Armstrong tried to calm him down, to no avail, so Alphonse had basically stepped up and interposed himself between Marcoh and the others. Even in his panicked state, Marcoh realised that firing upon Alphonse would cause a ricochet, and Armstrong and the others managed to get a word in edgewise.

Marcoh managed to calm down enough to allow them in. He was wracked by guilt over the human experimentation he did in Ishval. "That's why I work as a doctor here," the lugubrious-looking man admitted. "To try and atone, even if it's only a little, for my sins there."

Gently, Armstrong asked, "And what were you researching there?"

"…I was making the Philosopher's Stone."

That simple sentence hit them like a ton of bricks.

Marcoh went to a cupboard, and fetched a vial of blood-red liquid. "Not only that, but I have a sample of it here." He gently poured the liquid onto the table, whereupon it curled up into a ball.

As Edward poked it, Luna frowned, before she took out from a pocket a red stone that seemed to glow from within. Marcoh stared at it. "Where did you get that?!"

"I borrowed it indefinitely from Isaac McDougal," Luna said. "I thought it odd, especially as I can hear the screaming of dozens of souls in perpetual agony. I can hear it from that, too." She pointed to the lump of red matter Marcoh had poured out onto the table.

"Wait, you had a Philosopher's Stone on you this whole time, and you didn't tell me?!" Edward yelped.

"You didn't ask. Anyway, I didn't know it was a Philosopher's Stone. I thought it was a Dementor Poop."

"…A what?" Marcoh asked.

Harry facepalmed, realising where Luna was going with this. "Dementors are creatures back home that eat people's souls. And if she thinks that thing has human souls in it…"

"Like I said: Dementor Poop," Luna said, almost cheerfully.

"But…that means…" Alphonse muttered in horror, "that the Philosopher's Stone is created from…humans?"

Marcoh, dismayed, merely nodded. "To gain a single Stone is to sacrifice dozens of human beings," he admitted.

Armstrong, subdued, stared at the Stones. "I knew of many of the atrocities inflicted upon the Ishvalans, but to learn of this…no wonder you fled the State Military, Dr Marcoh. I cannot blame you one bit," he said quietly.

Edward put his head in his hands. "This is horrible…" he groaned. "I thought I saw the Stone being used by Cornello…it was something like this, wasn't it?"

Marcoh nodded. "I don't doubt that more are produced, presumably from prisoners of the State Military. Incidentally, who are you, anyway?"

"Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist. This is my brother Alphonse, and these two are Harry Potter and Luna Lovegood."

"Potter? I knew someone once who spoke of a Harry Potter. A man in Ishval, a mercenary alchemist who fought for the Ishvalans."

Harry nodded. "Sirius Black, right? Or Padfoot?"

"He called himself Padfoot," Marcoh said. "You know him?"

"My godfather."

"Hmm." Marcoh's eyes went over to Edward Elric's, and then to Alphonse. "A state licence at your age? What lured you into their web? Research grants? Prestige? It's a fool's choice to join as a State Alchemist. I know many who fought in Ishval hated to be the living weapons of the State Military. "

"Of course it was a fool's choice!" Edward snapped. "I was a fool in the first place, and I became a State Alchemist because I needed to make up for my mistake. I will sleep in whatever bed I make, even if it's full of rusty metal and broken glass!"

Marcoh's eyes widened. And then, he looked at both Elric brothers with more scrutiny. He walked over to Alphonse, and wrapped his knuckles on the armour, and winced at the hollow sound. "I see. You broke the ultimate taboo of alchemy, didn't you? Human transmutation. You managed to bind your brother's soul to that suit of armour. You have seen Hell, and have no desire to walk into its depths." Marcoh turned around. "However, you may be able to see the truth hidden beneath the truth. My research is at the 1st Branch of the Central Library. I know you won't use the Stone for as trivial a purpose as getting your bodies back, not now that you know what it costs to create one. But Ishval and the Philosopher's Stone are but the tip of the iceberg. I trust you to be able to do what needs to be done."

* * *

They went back to the train, Armstrong reassuring the others that he wouldn't report Marcoh. Later, they saw Lust waiting on the platform. Luna and Harry gave the Homunculus a cheery wave. She seemed startled at being noticed, especially when Luna said, "See you at Central!"

"Who's the woman you were yelling at?" Edward asked.

"Lust," Harry sighed.

"An odd name," Armstrong said.

"I think she had a crappy father," Luna remarked.

* * *

Deep beneath Central, connected to his massive throne, Father sneezed. An unusual occurrence, as he never got ill, and rarely sneezed anyway…

* * *

Sometime later, they made it to Resembool, a small country town. They made their way up the road to the Rockbell residence (and with it, their automail workshop), and soon were greeted just outside it by a diminutive old woman. "Hey, Granny, where's Winry and her folks?" Edward greeted her.

"Winry's inside. My son and his wife are making a housecall," the elderly woman said. "Ed, is it me, or have you gotten smaller?"

This, predictably, set off a shouting match between Edward and the elderly woman, Pinako Rockbell, that was interrupted by a wrench flung from the balcony of the house, whacking Edward on the head. Harry and Luna found their attention drawn to said balcony, where a girl about Edward's age, dressed in a tube top and maintenance coveralls (the top currently off and tied around her waist) with a green bandanna, leaned against the railing. "Ed, how many times must I tell you to call us when you're coming around?!"

"Winry, will you stop doing that?!" Edward howled back.

Winry laughed, and said, "Welcome back! Who're these guys, anyway?"

"Winry…you're not going to believe this," Alphonse said, "but, well, this guy with the dark hair is Harry Potter!"

"Wait, what? This is Harry Potter, that kid Sirius was always going on about?" Winry demanded.

"Who're you calling a kid?" Harry retorted, looking up at Winry.

"Hey, that's what he said when he was with us years ago," Winry protested. "Who's the girl?"

"Luna Lovegood, professional fantasist and gadfly," Luna said. "Nice aim with the wrench, by the way. It's a bit hard to throw something like that accurately. Are you free of wrackspurts?"

On Winry's confused look, Edward said, "Yeah, she's like that. And this is Major Alex Louis Armstrong. Anyway, I stopped by to have a check-up, preferably with no more concussions."

"Let's wait until I see your automail before I make any rash promises," Winry said, before smiling at them. "Good to see you guys anyway!"

Harry nodded, as Pinako led them into the house. This was the nearest thing the Elrics had to a home now. They had told Harry and Luna that they had burned down their home in order to spur them onto their journey, so this was the closest they had to a home now. Still, it'd be an interesting stay, even if it was only a brief one…

 **CHAPTER 5 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **And here you have it. At long last, the latest chapter for this story. I'm not sure when the next chapter will come out (if at all), given a lack of inspiration for this story. Sorry.**

 **Also, in case you're wondering how Lust came to get to the others' train, keep in mind that a few days pass between the first scene and the next one, as in canon. Enough time for Lust to get to East City and tail them, in case they make contact with Scar. Her meeting with Marcoh goes as it did in canon.**

 **Speaking of Lust, some of you may not be aware that I have a pure** ** _Fullmetal Alchemist_** **fic out there,** ** _Saligia_** **, so far from the point of view of Lust. It's an AU where Lust begins having doubts about Father's plans. The divergence begins around Chapter 4, though many events go differently beforehand (Lust telling Rosé to get out of Liore, her recruiting Marcoh as an ally in a slightly different confrontation, as well as meeting Edward for the first time during his trip to Resembool). I've posted Chapter 8, which is set during the introduction of Ling Yao. Go and give it a look.**

 **Review-answering time!** **ShimmerBreeze** **: I don't think I have met any voice actors who have played a major role in** ** _Fullmetal Alchemist_** **, though I have met Brina Palencia, who, incidentally, played Nina in** ** _Brotherhood_** **. At the time, though, I was more interested in her because she had played Rei Ayanami in** ** _Rebuild of Evangelion_** **. This was before I got into Fullmetal Alchemist, you must understand.**

 **Jostanos** **: See above. Hughes has adopted her.**

 **Duner89** **: Scar is still very much anti-alchemy, but he is willing to tolerate it as a necessary evil to stop Father and his plans. Unlike in canon, he's more pragmatic and compassionate (even to State Alchemists, particularly those who didn't fight in Ishval).**

 **Alchemical Guest** **: I read that fic, and enjoyed it. Thanks for the recommendation.**

 **No numbered annotations.**


	83. Truth and Consequences Chapter 6

_**TRUTH AND CONSEQUENCES**_

 **CHAPTER 6:**

 **REST AT RESEMBOOL**

"Sirius spoke about you a lot," Winry said as she examined Edward's automail arm, tutting slightly at the scratches and dents (well, those remaining after the latest transmutation). "I didn't ever think we'd meet you. I think he mentioned Luna in passing, though, as being one of those who were with you in that Department of Mysteries place."

Harry nodded. Pinako had made some tea, and he had to admit, it was quite good. "I'd always thought he had died. I tried to torture the bitch who had sent him through the Veil."

"Yeah, he talked about her, too. His crazy cousin Bellatrix," Winry said. "Sirius, my parents, and those two Ishvalans talked to me about a couple of the State Alchemists they knew in the war. There was some crazy guy like her called Kimblee..."

"Solf J Kimblee, the Crimson Lotus Alchemist," Armstrong supplied. "He was arrested and put into prison for mutiny and murdering superior officers. Noted for a highly developed amoral philosophy, as well as alchemy used to create explosions. I…met him once. Perversely, he did me a kindness during the Ishvalan War, although I cannot appreciate it, given the cost. When I allowed a couple of Ishvalans to go free, Kimblee murdered them, and told me, surprisingly kindly, that I was fortunate that no superiors had spotted my actions."

"A mind like his would have considered it a kindness," Luna remarked.

"The war was hell," Pinako remarked as she examined Edward's leg. "The irony is, it helps us earn our money, as there were a lot of people, particularly those demobbed from the military, who lost limbs. Some want just prosthetics, others want automail. We're lucky my son and my daughter-in-law managed to survive that mess. Luckier still they weren't considered traitors for giving medical attention to the Ishvalans. When Colonel Mustang came here to see the boys after…the incident, he was quite sympathetic towards my son and daughter-in-law. Well, as much as he could be, being part of the State Military." She looked at the leg critically, and said, "Believe it or not, Ed, your body has grown. A little." As the blonde alchemist scowled, she continued, "I'll have to remove the leg and adjust the casing and mechanism. Thankfully, no repairs are really needed."

"A few minor repairs are needed for this arm," Winry remarked, "but nothing too bad. Just as well. We can get it done overnight, more or less." She scowled when she looked at the knuckles. "…Is this dried blood?"

"Long story short, I had to beat up an asshole," Edward said. "It must've soaked through my glove."

"Is that Tucker you're talking about?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. Though there's a word rhyming with his name that should be his name," Edward scowled. On seeing the Rockbells' looks, Edward said, "Long story short, we had to save his daughter from him and his…experiments. I don't think I can say anything more."

"It's a moot point," Armstrong said. "Tucker is dead, and Nina is alive. His research on so-called talking chimeras, based as it was mostly on false premises, is doubtless already in the newspapers in Central. Central would want to make a loud example of Tucker, if only to distract from their own dark researches."

Winry and Pinako were appalled when they were told the full story of what happened to Nina Tucker, and what Shou Tucker's crimes were. As they finished, Pinako muttered, "I need a _very_ strong drink. I didn't think it would have been easy, undoing that alchemic fusion between Nina and her dog."

"It isn't," Alphonse said. "It's partly to do with how entropy affects the alchemic process. It's rather like baking a cake, and then trying to get the ingredients back. Even with alchemy, it's extremely difficult. We needed the original transmutation circle to even try."

"If there was ever anything that was the Devil's work in this world, Shou Tucker's experiments were definitely it," Armstrong added solemnly. "The world is well-rid of him and his deeds…"

* * *

Edward had had his automail detached for the time being, and was given a fairly normal prosthetic leg to walk on. While Armstrong stayed behind to help chop up some firewood (with his bare fists, as was his wont to do), the Elric brothers and the former mages left, with the Elric brothers intending to pay their respects to their mother.

The grave was simply marked. _Trisha Elric_ , the gravestone read, with her year of birth and year of death. As the Elrics looked down at the grave, Harry thought about what happened when he had given Edward the Resurrection Stone. The Elder Wand was now useless, really, but the other two Hallows were not. He was surprised that the Truth hadn't demanded the Hallows in tribute, especially as they were magical artifacts. Maybe the Truth had been satisfied with Harry and Luna's magic alone.

The shade of Trisha Elric had actually berated her children for what they did to try and resurrect her, but in the way a mother scolds her children for doing something dangerous. And while she was worried about Edward being a State Alchemist, she nonetheless said she was proud of them both, especially for trying to help out people where they could. She was even pleased to meet Harry and Luna, even if only briefly.

Trisha also had pointed out something interesting: she didn't remember being resurrected, and as a spirit, she could actually remember her entire life with clarity. Which raised the horrifying possibility that the grotesque body the Elric brothers had created didn't hold the spirit of their mother, but something else, at least before it expired.

Even so, they still considered it to be a second cadaver of their mother. Hence their paying their respects, regardless. Trisha Elric was dead, and it was virtually certain that that state of affairs wouldn't be reversed any time soon. The Elrics were more concerned with getting their bodies back than engaging in any attempts at resurrecting their mother.

After a while, Edward muttered solemnly, "What can equal the value of a human body and soul?"

"Perhaps only another one," Luna remarked. "Always assuming Equivalent Exchange is at play. I lost my mother when I was young too. And Harry lost his parents before he turned two. We would give many things to have our loved ones back, but not anything or everything."

"What do you think Marcoh wanted us to do when he wanted us to track down his notes?" Harry asked. "He could have just left the issue alone."

"He wants us to find those behind the Philosopher's Stone and stop them," Luna said. "I think he was trying too hard to be subtle, albeit out of fear. I think I know who they were. Bradley, Lust, and Gluttony. They felt like the Stones. I think they have some in them. It'd explain Lust's stamina."

Harry didn't know whether to groan or not at Luna discussing their sex life, even at one remove, in front of the Elrics. But Edward ignored the innuendo. Instead, he said, "If Marcoh wanted us to find something, something truly diabolical behind the Stone, then I intend to find it. If only to prevent more being created. Marcoh at least felt guilty about what he did. But if anyone is continuing this, then we'll stop them."

* * *

After that rather solemn interlude, they went back to the Rockbells, stopping by briefly to take in the burnt-out shell of what was once the Elrics' home. Edward and Alphonse had burned down the home, to act as a spur to ensure they didn't let up in their quest to get their normal bodies back. Harry wondered why he never did the same to 4 Privet Drive back home, especially once the Dursleys moved elsewhere.

They returned home to find Armstrong having completed his wood-chopping duties. Winry's parents had arrived back, and were pleasantly surprised to finally meet Harry Potter. Harry found himself liking them immediately: they were very much principled doctors who took their oaths seriously. And they also were, of a sort, parental substitute figures to the Elric brothers. Not full surrogate parents, but the Elrics certainly treated them in a more friendly manner than Winry or Pinako. Not that his attitude was filled with any malice: Winry and Pinako merely rubbed him the wrong way a little, with Pinako loving to push Edward's buttons, and Winry preoccupied at times with the damage he did to the automail.

Winry's parents were also horrified to learn about Shou Tucker from the Elrics. Yuriy, her father, muttered, "That's one of the sickest things I've ever heard. And having worked in Ishval, that's something of an achievement."

Sarah Rockbell, Winry's mother, looked over at Harry. "But the girl is all right now?"

"Yeah, though it was a close thing. I'm surprised the alchemy we used to reverse the transmutation worked. The last we heard, Nina's being adopted by Maes Hughes," Harry said. "He seems like a doting sort of man. She's in good hands."

* * *

As his daughters, one by blood, the other by adoption, got into a screaming row about their favourite toys, Maes Hughes sneezed. He hoped he wasn't catching a cold, he thought, as he went to stop the argument…

* * *

"You sure?" Sarah Rockbell asked.

"Believe me, I was raised by people who would rival Shou Tucker in the 'horrible guardians' category. If they could turn me into a pet they could kick around, they would," Harry said. "Anyway, Luna tends to get a vibe from bad people."

"They're infested with wrackspurts and malsnorters," Luna said cheerfully.

Seeing their looks, Edward said, "She's like that. Luna's harmless…well, except to people who piss her off. I get the scary thing she might have done things to Shou Tucker if we didn't need to save Nina first."

"I was considering whether I could replicate the effects of Ebola using a little transmutation," Luna scowled.

"Ee-Bowler?" Yuriy Rockbell asked.

"It's a virus from our world," Harry said. "Makes you bleed from just about every orifice you have, and some that you never knew you had. It's pretty rare, though, thankfully. Believe me, when you piss Luna off, you might as well write your will. She gets…creative. Like this one time Draco Malfoy tried to force himself on her. Let's just say that he's cooling off."

* * *

Back on Earth, Hermione went to the fridge (the Department of Mysteries had more than a few Muggle appliances around) to get a bottle of iced tea. As she reached in, she heard a voice say, as it said every time she opened it, "Kill me." As it had been lately, it was in a flat, resigned tone, knowing that its request for mercy wouldn't be granted.

Hermione looked into the eyes of Draco Malfoy, his head (which, incidentally, was all that was present in the fridge) attached to a magical collar, all that was keeping him alive. The rest of him was elsewhere. Quite a few elsewheres, actually.

After a moment, Hermione smiled sweetly, and gave her usual response. "Later," she said, before shutting the fridge door, Draco's resigned groan of irritation the last thing she heard from him this time(1)…

* * *

Edward looked at Luna warily. "You know, you're pretty damn scary, you know that?"

"What, little old me?" Luna said with a winning smile that did nothing to reassure the Elrics. Or anyone else present, but Edward and Alphonse had more exposure to Luna's insanity. Admittedly, so too had Harry, but he loved her for it.

And it wasn't like Draco Malfoy hadn't had it coming. The half-inbred moron had wasted the opportunities Harry and his friends had given him to reform. And it wasn't like he couldn't breed anymore. IVF was one of the Muggle technologies that Magical Britain embraced after Hermione and Harry championed it. The fact that the Malfoy line wouldn't technically end with Draco gave his mother Narcissa and his former fiancée Astoria Greengrass some small cause for relief, and before they left through the Veil, Astoria was apparently pregnant. Harry could only hope that said child wouldn't be like their father or grandfather.

Deciding to get off the uncomfortable topic, Yuriy asked, "So, Edward, where are you off to next once Mother and Winry are done with your automail?"

"Central. I've been told there's something interesting at a library there," Edward said. "I can't say much more: secret State Alchemist stuff. Sorry."

"Okay, but don't get in over your head," Yuriy said.

Edward's eye twitched. "Did you say that because you think I'm short?"

"Edward, it's a medical fact. And frankly, if you drank milk like we told you too, you wouldn't have these issues," Yuriy said calmly, not intimidated in the least by Edward's temper. "And all that aside, you do have a habit of blundering into messes, even if you don't cause them. Just try not to do anything too rash. Think of us here. We give a damn if you and Alphonse get hurt."

Edward subsided, nodding. And Harry smiled. As much as Edward and Alphonse valued their independence and their drive, it did well to remind them that they had a family here. A family that Harry would have loved to have himself…

 **CHAPTER 6 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Sorry again for the long wait. This is going to be one of those infrequently-updated ones, but at least you've got another chapter now.**

 **I haven't got much to say here, beyond the review-answering, so I might do, as is my wont to do lately, to plug some of my other fics, some of which have been updated alongside this fic. For more Harry Potter and Luna Lovegood having sojourns in another world, check out** ** _The New Cetra Heritage: Imago_** **, while for more insane Harry with weird science and mad magic mixed in, try** ** _Is Your Great-Aunt an AI?!_** **and** ** _Resident Evil: Basilisk_** **. For Harry passing through the Veil into another world, and having insane adventures on the other side, try** ** _Nitimur in Vetitum_** **and** ** _Newport Mage_** **. For more humorous stories, try** ** _Final Fantasy VI: The Abridged Series_** **, and** ** _The UNIT Bulletin Board_** **, my humorous takes on** ** _Final Fantasy VI_** **and** ** _Doctor Who_** **respectively.**

 **I'd also like to plug one of my latest stories. Inspired as this story was partly by the works of sakurademonalchemist, I would like to plug** ** _Haemophilia_** **, which was based partly on sakurademonalchemist's attempted Harry Potter/** ** _Hellsing_** **crossover,** ** _It's in the Blood_** **. I asked for her permission to write and post a story which uses a similar starting point and plot elements, and she agreed. This was after I learned that, despite posting the first three chapters of** ** _It's in the Blood_** **to her pilot chapters compilation, sakurademonalchemist lost the other chapters due to her laptop packing it in.**

 **Review-answering time!** **Alchemical Guest** **: I probably won't do that. There are probably better works of fiction out there that explore the ramifications of immortality applied to society as a whole. Two immediately spring to mind:** ** _Torchwood: Miracle Day_** **, and the novel** ** _Mogworld_** **by Ben 'Yahtzee' Croshaw of** ** _Zero Punctuation_** **fame.**

 **patrickdejong94** **: We'll have more Martel in the future, when I get around to it.**

 **1\. I took this little gag, darkly comic as it was, from the** ** _Team Fortress 2_** **promo video** ** _Meet the Medic_** **. This seemed like the sort of thing Luna would do to take revenge.**


	84. Yin and Yang Chapter 1

**You know, this is the first time I've had a story with the preview chapters in _The Cauldron_ cark out, so that means I had to remove the preview chapters, and then post the six chapters of this story in full. Which has probably buggered up my view count and the reviews, but hey.**

 **Now, this one, I was particularly distressed in abandoning and archiving. But the truth is, I'm finding it hard to get the motivation to write for it anymore. Which is a shame, as it had quite a few good gags and some neat ideas. I think part of the problem was that Harry and Luna were too OP compared to Batman. So, I decided, reluctantly, to abandon it and archive it.**

* * *

 _ **YIN AND YANG**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **YIN AND YANG**

" _And here we have the Common Acephalous Thug, hung from a gargoyle by the local predator, who has been playing his favourite hunting game of Dope On A Rope(_ _1)_ _._ "

Only years of having to deal with the twisted humour of the Joker, Harley Quinn, the Riddler, and other members of his rogues gallery prevented the Batman from laughing out loud when he heard that, the young woman mimicking the distinctive breathy voice of David Attenborough. As it was, a faint smile briefly touched his usually grim countenance. But it fled as swiftly as it arrived. He was here to investigate the latest vigilantes in town. Batman was, after all, rather proprietorial about policing Gotham. Like many predators, he was territorial.

There was a brief moment of laughter from the man, before he said, " _Yin, we'd better not hang around for long. The cops will be showing soon if the Batman's been here._ "

" _Just a second, Yang._ " The woman's cheerful demeanour reminded Batman uncomfortably of Harley Quinn, if she spoke with a British accent rather than a strong New Jersey one. Both of them had British accents. Specifically, the man had an accent suggesting he was from London or the surrounding area, while the woman had an accent suggesting Irish origins, with a touch of West County(2).

The woman then said something that blew things out of the water. " _My cousin said she had her goons trying to retrieve something. She was a bit tight-lipped about what, so I'll have to use Legilimency._ "

Batman felt his blood run cold. The thugs he had just dealt with were under the command of Harley Quinn, while the Joker was incarcerated at Arkham. They were currently in a warehouse where Quinn had been stashing supplies. Batman had dealt with the thugs, only to hear these two approaching. Deciding he had a golden opportunity to observe these new vigilantes, he had moved into hiding on the roof of the warehouse, listening in using a microphone he concealed on one of the thugs he had dealt with. But now, he knew that the woman, at least, was related to Harley.

His fears were a little mitigated when the man said, " _Yes, but remember, your cousin is crazy. And not in a good way. Not like you, Yin. Harley's like Bellatrix, only less competent and more of an exhibitionist. Seriously, have you seen that skintight jester outfit?_ "

" _Yep. I can fit into that. Actually, you wanna play dress-up later? I can make you up as the Joker._ "

" _Yeah, that'd be in bad taste. I'd rather dress as the Batman._ "

" _He's not my type. Hey, I've got it, how about you dress up as you are, having captured the vile Harley Quinn, and she seduces you?_ "

"… _I find that I actually like that idea, but less talking about bedroom fantasies while we're on the job, Yin._ "

 _Agreed_ , Batman thought to himself. He thought these two were rather unprofessional, and yet their results spoke for themselves. Yin and Yang had apprehended Scarecrow a couple of weeks ago, leaving him tied up at the reception to Arkham Asylum with the yin-yang symbol, the _taijitu(_ _3)_ , on a piece of paper attached to him. Since then, they had made waves in the Gotham underworld. It was said that Yin had impressed the Riddler (albeit grudgingly) with her knowledge of riddles and ability to solve them. Two-Face, given his obsession with duality, had actually tried to recruit them. Their rejection saw him become their second deposit at Arkham.

However, a more disturbing rumour through the grapevine was that they were willingly collaborating with Mr Freeze: they had been seen in his company. Of course, of all the 'supervillains' to collaborate with, they had chosen one of the more sympathetic ones.

" _Ah-ha!_ " Yin exclaimed. " _Yang, I've found what I was looking for. According to this guy, Quinn wanted some of the precursor chemicals to the 'Joker Toxin'_."

" _Great. Chemical warfare for fun and…well, can't be profit._ "

Batman frowned. He didn't hear any interrogation going on. He remembered that term she used, 'Legilimency'. What was that? He vaguely recalled the term from a conversation he had with Zatanna years ago.

" _Well, it's up to the GCPD to dispose of it. Or the Batman_ ," Yang continued. " _I dunno how this stuff'd react to our spells._ "

Spells? The first actual lead on these two. They were mages of some sort, or at least were meta-humans who believed themselves to be mages.

" _I think the Batman will have a better way to deal with them._ " Suddenly, there was a soft crack, like a muted gunshot, and a figure was right in front of him. "Well? Do you?" Yin asked. Another crack, and Yang followed.

Batman was startled by Yin's sudden appearance, but years of experience had him not showing it. Instead, he looked at the two new vigilantes.

They were both dressed in what looked like figure-hugging spandex, the woman wearing white, the man wearing black. Both were wearing helmets with stylised faces, reminiscent of the masks used as symbols of theatre. The man wore the tragic mask, a bone-white effigy with a scowl, and green lenses, presumably those of some sort of enhanced vision goggles. The woman wore an ebony mask with a wide laughing grin, though more endearing than anything the Joker would deign to wear. The lenses were blue. Both had slender, athletic builds.

"Yin and Yang," Batman said. "What are you doing here?"

"Cataloguing the wildlife of Gotham City," Yin said blithely. "Bats, cats, penguins, moths, fireflies, ivy, crocodiles…you name it, we document it."

"Yin…" Yang groaned quietly. "Please don't annoy Gotham's most experienced vigilante. Remember what happened when you told Dent that he had a Wrackspurt infestation."

"He tried to shoot me, I introduced him to the pleasures of testicular trauma," Yin said with what sounded like a smile in her voice. "I want to do the same to the Joker given what he did to Harley."

Trying to get the conversation back on track, Batman said, "What are you doing here in Gotham, aside from 'wildlife'?"

Yang jerked a thumb at Yin. "Yin here told me it'd be fun to be vigilantes here. I got dragged along for the ride."

"Oh, Yang, you have a 'saving people thing', remember?" Yin said. "I'm a vigilante for fun, you're a vigilante because you want to help people, it all works out in the end. Anyway, we'll leave disposing of the Joker's stuff up to you, okay? Bye!" And with another soft crack, she disappeared.

Yang sighed quietly. "Sorry about that. We'll try not to get in your way." And with that, he vanished too with a soft crack.

Batman almost immediately engaged his comms. "Oracle, I need information. I have leads on the identities of Yin and Yang."

" _Got it_ ," came the voice of Barbara Gordon, once known as Batgirl, now Oracle. " _What do you have?_ "

"They're mages, and I overheard Yin being capable of some sort of ability called Legilimency, which I think may be some sort of mind-reading. Yang referred to someone called 'Bellatrix', someone comparable in sanity to Harley Quinn. Finally, Yin seemed to say that Quinn was her cousin."

" _Okay. Give me a minute_ ," Oracle said. After a moment, she said, " _Firstly, I've confirmed Legilimency is a form of mind-reading ability. A particular subset of mages named that ability. I got some books from Zatanna about this. Most mages hide themselves from those without it, with Zatanna, Constantine, and the like being exceptions. In addition, the name Bellatrix corresponds to a criminal British mage known as Bellatrix Lestrange. She died about seven years ago, during something called the Battle of Hogwarts. And even looking at this abstract, it's safe to say she's like if Harley Quinn was kicked up a notch._ " After a while, Oracle then said. " _Oh. I think I know who Yin and Yang may be. It's not definite, but I've run a program to look through the family tree of Harleen Quinzel. Seems that her father had a sister who emigrated to England. Records are pretty patchy to say the least, but Pandora Quinzel married to Xenophilus Lovegood. Pandora died some years ago, but she had a daughter with Lovegood called Luna. She was raised in Ottery St Catchpole, which is in Devonshire, England._ "

"Anything on Luna Lovegood?"

" _Only that she's definitely a mage, and married to none other than Harry Potter._ "

"Who?"

" _If it's a quiet night, Bruce, you'd better come here for the whole story_ ," Oracle said. " _It's a pretty long one_ …"

* * *

In a rather expensive apartment in one of Gotham's more exclusive districts, a young woman was taking a helmet off her head, revealing a beautiful face, albeit one with a somewhat dreamy, scatterbrained expression in her large, pale eyes. Her blonde hair was cut shoulder-length to accommodate the helmet. "Well, that went well," she said. "First time we met the Batman, and we didn't get into a fistfight."

"Thank Merlin for small mercies," muttered the young man removing his own helmet, to reveal a handsome, if thin, face, a shaggy mop of black hair partially obscuring a faded scar on his forehead, in the shape of a lightning bolt. His eyes were a beautiful emerald, but they were haunted eyes, eyes with a past. "Luna, being facile in front of him isn't going to go down well."

"He can do with lightening up, Harry," Luna Potter, once Luna Lovegood, said. "That's one of the few things I agree with the Joker on. That, and the inherent meaninglessness and capriciousness of life. I just don't agree with how he deals with that. Plus, he gives clowns a bad name. I like clowns." She then tapped her neck. The skintight costume expanded, becoming so baggy, Luna merely had to wriggle a little out of the neck. Underneath, she was completely naked. With an impish smile, she darted forward, and tapped the same spot on Harry's neck, with the same results.

Harry Potter, once known as the Boy Who Lived, sighed quietly. "Even so, Luna, I'm not sure he has enough of a sense of humour to deal with your own brand."

"I don't care, as long as _you_ have, Harry," she said, smiling that winning smile of hers. Harry smiled back. That humour, that eccentricity, that intellect, and that smoking hot body, those were all what attracted Harry to Luna, though those would have all been for nought if it weren't for the simple fact that she was also a good and caring person.

Luna, ironically, for all her eccentricity, helped keep Harry grounded after the war. In the process, the two grew closer, even as Harry grew further apart from Ginny. Ginny found it hard to get over her hero worship of Harry. Luna didn't have that in the first place. Neither did Hermione for that matter, but she and Harry didn't quite click after everything was said and done.

"Now," Luna said, "I feel like a bit of fun in the shower. Come on." And with that, she dragged him by the hand to the bathroom. Harry, on reflection, was glad they had put up all those sound-dampening wards, or the neighbours would be complaining…

* * *

After dealing with the Joker Toxin and leaving the thugs to Gordon, Batman had headed to Oracle's headquarters. He had been hit by a brief pang of guilt, remembering the events that led to Barbara Gordon ending up paralysed. Not directly his fault: the Joker knew nothing about her being Batgirl when he shot her, but even so…

Of course, Barbara adapted. Her already keen intellect was focussed elsewhere, on information gathering and electronic warfare. Oracle and Alfred were the only people he trusted to gather information and intelligence that he couldn't.

The story she had to tell him was, on the face of it, extraordinary. He would have considered it unbelievable, but he worked with mages on the Justice League, and had even been childhood friends with Zatanna. The parallels between his life and Harry's were uncomfortable. In fact, Batman felt a certain small pang of gratitude that he had at least gotten to know his parents and their love before they were murdered. Harry lost his at the age of one to this wizard terrorist, Voldemort. Like Bruce Wayne, Harry had money left by his parents, though he never knew it existed until he was 11, having been left with magic-hating relatives who treated him like a servant. And all of his schooling years at this Hogwarts were eventful, to say the least. He was trapped by fame and celebrity he was nearly born to.

"So, assuming Harry Potter is Yang, and Luna Lovegood is Yin, do you think they'll be trouble?" Oracle asked.

"People like this are always trouble. The question is, who for? I'm wondering what they are offering Freeze."

"At a guess, I'll go for the obvious one: they may have a cure for Nora."

"Magicals may not have a cure for Huntington's Chorea," Batman said. "Unless they keep it to themselves. Then again, maybe Nora Fries was misdiagnosed. Did they ever do any genetic testing for Huntington's Chorea when she was first diagnosed?"

"I'll check," Oracle said. As her fingers danced over her keyboards, she said, "What're you going to do about Yin and Yang?"

"Keep an eye on them. I'll let Tim know about them, just in case. I'll also tell your father. I'm not happy with them doing this, but as long as they keep out of my way and don't cause any trouble, I'll tolerate them for now." He then watched as medical files relating to Mr Freeze, aka Doctor Victor Fries, and his wife, came up on the screen. "…No genetic testing, at least as far as these files are concerned. So either she wasn't diagnosed using genetic testing, or else we're missing it. Or maybe her family had a history of Huntington's Disease, or something like it, and they hadn't bothered to test it because of that."

"If it's a magical disease, maybe they don't know there's a cure because Nora's family are descended from Squibs and they don't know it. Those are people without magic born to those with magic," Oracle clarified.

"If they can help Victor Fries, then that's something. He will have something in his life other than his obsession with curing Nora," Batman said. "He'll still be incarcerated for his crimes, but he'll still have visitation rights with Nora. And maybe there can be a happy ending out of that." To himself, he reflected, there were few happy endings in Gotham. More often than not, endings came in violence and blood. More happy endings were needed, though Batman wondered whether any happy ending could be left unspoiled by a sudden act of violence. Gotham had a surplus of such things, after all…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, here you have it. The first few chapters will be set shortly before the events of** ** _Batman: Arkham Asylum_** **. And yes, Harry and Luna will get involved in those events. The next chapter will be devoted to Mr Freeze getting his wife back. I decided to change things slightly so that Nora was misdiagnosed with Huntington's Disease/Chorea (a real-life genetic illness), but actually has a treatable magical ailment.**

 **Batman is wary of these two and not happy with them encroaching on his territory, but for the moment, he'll give them the benefit of the doubt. Plus, he knows who they are, while Harry doesn't know who Batman is. Luna, though? Well…we will see…**

 **1\. I actually call the inverted takedown during the stealth sections of the game 'Dope on a Rope' (it's my favourite takedown, if only because it's so funny, and so very Batman), and I have to admit, I laughed when I actually heard a goon use those very words in** ** _Batman: Arkham Origins_** **.**

 **2\. Evanna Lynch is Irish, and has that accent as Luna, but I thought I'd add something that reflected the fact that Luna grew up in Devon, in the West County (which is where Ottery St Catchpole is meant to be).**

 **3\. This is the actual name for the yin-yang symbol.**


	85. Yin and Yang Chapter 2

_**YIN AND YANG**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **THAWED**

If there was a single supercriminal in Gotham that Harry sympathised with more than anyone else, it was Doctor Victor Fries, better known by his sobriquet of Mr Freeze. For a man claiming to have a heart as cold as ice, he was actually driven by passion and compassion, an obsession born out of love. It was one of the only reasons Harry was helping him, or at least Luna was. She was better at potions than he was.

Freeze, reluctantly, assented to having his wife thawed. He was paranoid that this was some sort of trick, but in truth, his desperation to cure Nora had driven him to reluctantly accept their help. Harry just hoped that Nora could overlook blue skin and literally cold blood.

As Freeze gingerly decanted Nora, allowing the beautiful woman to choke up the stasis liquid that had kept her frozen, Luna toyed with the potion flask pensively. Harry was grateful that Freeze kept the visor of his cryosuit open, so that that creepy vocoder wasn't turning his voice into something like a Cyberman(1). "Are you sure this will work?" Freeze asked.

"Not absolutely," Harry said. "The potion works seven times out of ten with this disease. We told you the odds, Victor."

"Indeed. I am glad you only offer possibilities rather than certainties. Until you came along, all I knew was the certainty of her demise outside of stasis, and the fact that it is only a possibility that it will work makes it more real than something supposedly guaranteed," Freeze said. "But how will you know that it works?"

"After an hour, I'll cast the relevant charm," Luna said. "If it doesn't work…well, you can put Nora back in."

Nora Fries' eyes flickered open. She looked up at her husband, and Harry noted that she didn't seem surprised. "Victor…" she murmured.

"Nora…" Freeze said quietly. "Please, drink this potion."

Luna gently pressed the bottle into Nora's hands, and the woman drank it, grimacing as she did so. "What is this?"

"You had Squib Emergent Chorea Syndrome," Luna said quietly. "It's a magical disease. Were you aware that you were a Squib?"

After a moment, Nora nodded. "My mother was a Squib, while my father was a No-Maj, what you call a Muggle."

"You knew about the Magical World, Nora?" Freeze asked.

"Only a little. My mother was disowned by her family. She only told me so much." Nora blinked, and looked at Harry and Luna. "So, you two are from Magical Britain?"

"A while. Call me Yang, and this is my wife, Yin," Harry said. They were, after all, still in costume.

Nora nodded, sitting up gingerly. "I've never heard of Squib Emergent Chorea Syndrome," she said.

"Considering it only affects Squibs, most don't bother to treat it," Harry said. "Squibs still have the networks for channelling magic, and the syndrome is what happens when certain substances are in the blood, usually innocuous stuff. The potion should clean up your system. We hope."

Nora nodded again. "Thank you, all the same." Her eyes flickered over to Freeze. "Victor…even when I was in stasis…I was…aware. Barely, like it was a dream…but I could hear you speaking to me. And others. Like that odious man Boyle…or the Batman. Were they real?"

"Sadly, yes. The Batman may seem like myth, but he is very real. Even as he hinders me, he has sympathy for our plight."

"And…you did all that…for me? Robbed places, and hurt people?" Nora closed her eyes. "Victor…this isn't like you. I know that isn't the man I married. Please tell me he's still in there, somewhere."

After a moment, Freeze said, "I hope he is still in there, in the monster you see. I'm…sorry you have seen what I have become, Nora. How far I've fallen."

There was a pause, before Nora said, "Victor…you can climb back to where you were. I know you can. And I will be there with you, pulling you up. I only ask, Victor, that you stop committing these crimes in my name."

"For you, anything." Freeze then turned to Harry and Luna. "I am truly grateful to you two. You have managed what no other has succeeded, and not for want of trying. I wish I had administered the genetic testing."

"You've got Nora back, that's what counts," Harry said. "At least you're not like some of these idiots running around in costumes with powers and/or a complete disregard for human life. You can be rehabilitated, unlike most of them."

"You seem to speak from experience," Freeze remarked.

"Let's just say that someone tried to kill me when I was only one. And his followers didn't stop, even after he was dead for good. He made the Joker look petty by comparison."

* * *

In his cell at Arkham Asylum, the Joker sneezed twice. "Bah, someone's talking smack about me behind my back! If I ever find him, I'll give him something to smile about!"

* * *

Alfred Pennyworth was many things. He had been a butler, a soldier (in the special forces), and was now partially a quartermaster to his charge, surrogate child, and now a vigilante with disturbing self-destructive tendencies. The older man liked to think that he was the tether that kept Bruce Wayne, AKA the Batman, grounded. It was nearly dying thanks to Bane attacking him some years ago that had Bruce realising he needed to consider having allies.

Even so, Bruce's obsession with vigilantism was still disturbing. Then again, so was this latest development. "Am I right in hearing that Barbara considers the latest vigilantes in town to be Harry Potter and his wife?"

They were in the Batcave, the Batman's base of operations beneath the Wayne Manor. Bruce was in costume, but without the cowl and cape. He was turning to face Alfred, curious and maybe suspicious. "You know of them?"

"I was a Squib, Master Bruce. I kept abreast of events in that world."

"And you never told me?" Bruce demanded.

"My family was not something I wished to talk about, Master Bruce. The Pennyworths were an obscure Pureblood line that is almost extinct. Almost as vicious as the Blacks or the Malfoys were in their heyday. They cast me out with little to my name but my name. Squibs are an embarrassment in any Pureblood family, especially in Europe and the Americas. That being said, I kept abreast of affairs in Britain. Their press is, even at its best, appalling yellow journalism that puts many tabloids to shame. But one can glean nuggets of truth. I'm surprised that Mr Potter didn't become a vigilante in Magical Britain rather than here. Even now, with Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt in charge, corruption and nepotism are rife, albeit at reduced levels. During Minister Fudge's reign, as well as that of Minister Bagnold's, corruption was almost on a par with Gotham shortly before you became Batman."

"Do you have anything to add? Barbara told me much about them, but a new perspective would be welcome," Bruce said.

"Asking for a second opinion, Master Bruce? Dear me, I think you may need a doctor. On a more serious note, Harry Potter is, like you, heir to a fortune. Said fortune was partly depleted during Voldemort's first war, as James Potter apparently funded much of the Order of the Phoenix, which was the name given to Dumbledore's vigilante group acting against Voldemort. He is something of a recluse, hating his fame. His choice of wife was surprising: Luna Lovegood's father was the wizard equivalent of a cryptozoologist, as well as the editor and publisher of a home-made magazine called _The Quibbler_. I only read one issue, it was full of conspiracy theories and the like that are, for the most part, utterly laughable. She is a known eccentric."

"She's a relative of Harleen Quinzel. Maybe it runs in the family. She was certainly eccentric when I encountered her. Assuming it was her."

"You have a charity ball coming up. Have you tracked down Harry Potter and his wife?"

"Yes. That was easy. They're staying in an upmarket apartment," Bruce said. "Are you suggesting I invite them to it, try and feel them out?"

"To a degree, Master Bruce. It may be that Potter refuses. He is known to shun the limelight."

"True." Whereas Bruce Wayne, whenever he was meant to be seen in public, hogged it. The antics and escapades of Bruce Wayne, designed to make him a _stupor mundi_ , was all artifice. All designed to distract anyone who might actually join the dots and realise he was Batman. Alfred even got the impression that sometimes, Bruce even enjoyed himself when he made an arse of himself. Like Bruce was once again the child who died along with his parents that dark night in crime alley, only for something darker, something primal, to be born in its place.

Alfred wondered what Bruce's parents would have thought. He had decided, long ago, that they would have had mixed feelings. They would have considered Bruce's vigilantism a behaviour even more self-destructive than hedonism, as well as acting like a thug, and yet, Alfred also thought they would be proud of his dedication to helping clean up Gotham City.

"Shall I send the invitation, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked.

"Yes. I may have to contact Zatanna as well before then. Even if only Lovegood can use Legilimency, it's still reason enough to bolster up my mental defences," Bruce said. "Assuming she hasn't winkled my secrets out of my head already. She makes me feel…uneasy."

* * *

"OH MY GOD, YANG, YOU'RE BETTER THAN MISTER J!"

Luna Lovegood (technically Luna Potter, but she wanted to keep her maiden name, and Harry, like many things involving his wife, agreed) had uttered many strange things in her life, Harry reflected as he pleasured her. Sadly, that one didn't even make the top twenty, even when it came to exclamations during sex. Though this situation, where Harry was having sex with her while she was half-wearing one of her cousin's red jester outfits (with a zipper on the front helping matters), was certainly one of the weirder occasions.

Nothing compared to that time they both ate Gillyweed and then went underwater for some fun while on a holiday to Australia, though. Weird as hell, but the sex was wonderful as well. It almost always was with Luna. She was called 'Lovegood' after all…

Several minutes later, they were lying in post-coital bliss on the bed in each other's arms, both now completely naked, with Luna's blonde hair in the habitual twin pigtails her cousin Harley wore whenever she wasn't wearing her jester outfit. It was disturbing how much they were alike, Harry thought, though Luna wasn't crazy in the way Bellatrix Lestrange was. Harley, however, was, albeit in a way that made her endearing rather than psychotic.

But Luna…well, she was Luna. Looney Lovegood. A girl, no, a woman now, who was unique. Harry wished sometimes he could emulate her more carefree nature. Then again, that was why they chose the concept of yin and yang as their cover identities as vigilantes. Luna was flighty, Harry was grounded. Luna was optimistic, Harry was cynical. Luna was more of a lateral thinker, while Harry, thanks partly to Hermione, was more logical. They complemented each other.

As it happened, Nora's treatment was successful. They had confirmed it. They needed to make sure she had a small supply of the potion on hand in case of a relapse, but Nora Fries was alive and well. And this meant that Mr Freeze, aka Victor Fries, would have far less motivation to commit crimes. That might prove to be the first step to Freeze rehabilitating himself.

The fact that Luna was currently formulating a potion that would allow Freeze to survive without his cryogenic suit would help matters. It didn't mean all of his problems were over: Freeze, even when young, had psychological issues. But unlike many supercriminals in Gotham, he was still capable of redemption.

Harry gently ran his fingers through his wife's hair. She all but purred, snuggling up to him even more than she was. As much as he was irritated about Luna dragging him here to start a new life, and her antics, he had to admit, this was fun. Vigilantism and sex. He was sure that, if people knew what he was doing, they'd think he was having a dream life.

And you know what? It was. True, it was dangerous, but he was used to that, and all those enchantments Luna and he made to their costumes reduced the risk significantly. As he told Batman, he was in it for helping people. So too was Luna. And they both did it for fun. Perverse, yes, but true.

Yes. This was a good life. Dangerous and deadly, but in the end, it was a good one. Helping people, and having fun doing it, with his love by his side. How many couples could say that?

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, there you have it. The Frieses are reunited, and Bruce Wayne is making plans. The next chapter will be the last chapter prior to the events of** ** _Batman: Arkham Asylum_** **.**

 **1\. I noticed that the vocoder or whatever Maurice La Marche used in** ** _Batman: Arkham City_** **sounds a lot like whatever Nicholas Briggs used for the Cybermen's voices in** ** _Doctor Who_** **, at least up until** ** _Nightmare in Silver_** **. It's a good effect.**


	86. Yin and Yang Chapter 3

_**YIN AND YANG**_

 **CHAPTER 3:**

 **BALLSY**

Harry hated dressing up in formal clothes. It reminded him too much of everything he left Britain to get away from. Of course, that elegant dress Luna dressed up in made it worthwhile. She knew better than to dress eccentrically for these occasions. She more than made up for it in her behaviour.

Of course, they spotted the invitation for what it was. Harry and Luna knew who Batman was. Or rather, what public identity he hid behind the cowl. That was probably a key point. And in any case, Luna had put a discreet tracking charm on Batman when they first met. Even before then, they had speculated as to who he was.

He had to be rich, or at least have access to very expensive items, like his Batsuit, the various gadgets, and the Batmobile. He had some sort of issue with crime, perhaps being a victim of it once. The tracking charm only confirmed the name they had at the top of the list, the man whose ball they were attending, was Batman. Bruce Wayne.

It actually made sense. Bruce Wayne played the role of a hedonistic playboy, and yet, he also did all these philanthropic donations that were certainly more than that most would do. He was also a canny and competent businessman, with Wayne Enterprises having ascended to greater heights than it had under his parents. He had been robbed of his parents at a young age. Harry felt it had been perhaps crueller with Bruce: he had gotten to know his parents before they were gunned down. Harry hadn't.

It wasn't something they intended to advertise. Not at all. What was the point? Batman did more good than ill for Gotham, even if he seemed to be a magnet to the supercriminals like the Joker or Poison Ivy. Or Victor Fries, though he had dropped out of crime.

Victor and Nora Fries were now in hiding, Harry having given them money and buying them (through less-salubrious channels, albeit discreet ones) a home that they could live together in. Luna had even managed to create a potion that, as long as the main dose was taken daily, Victor could actually survive without his suit, and even after a day, it took hours for the effects to fully wear off, giving him enough time to get back to a refrigerated room or his suit. Apparently, he had spent the whole first day with his wife giving him one hell of a reunion present. Thankfully, she didn't mind his blue skin and frostbitten flesh. That went to show how much Nora was devoted to her husband.

Speaking of devotion…

"Now, remember, Luna, keep the discord to a minimum," Harry said as they walked up the drive to Wayne Manor, having Apparated to a safe distance away. "If we're going to talk about conspiracy theories, keep it to Muggle ones."

Luna pouted. "Those are no fun. Oswald really did kill Kennedy, and Muggles really did land on the Moon. I should know, you took me there for our honeymoon(1). I mean, in space, nobody can hear you scream."

"I did. Specifically, 'OH MERLIN, HARRY!'," Harry said with a smirk. "And while I'm not Merlin, I appreciated the sentiment. I still do."

Luna giggled. "Usually three times a night, when we aren't roleplaying."

"Yes, about that. We'll have to not talk about what goes on in the bedroom, either. Literally or metaphorically. Yes, I know we've done it on the Moon, underwater, in the air, and in just about every room in a house that it is possible to do it with. I'm not complaining about it, I'm just saying people don't need to know. If you're going to be a gadfly, try something other than sex. And remember, we're not here to expose Bruce Wayne. Or the magical world."

"Killjoy," Luna pouted.

"Loony," Harry retorted. He was one of the few people who said that with any affection. Ginny and Hermione were the others.

"Scarhead."

"Arkham escapee."

"Ooh, you are in for it now, Harry," Luna said, her mock-scowl becoming worse. "Anyway, I'd raise the class of people if I was ever incarcerated in Arkham. I bet that if I ever met Poison Ivy, I'd get her to snog me without poisoning me."

"Probably because you're like Harley. Quiet now, we're nearly there."

* * *

They were met at the door by a flunky who looked bemused that they hadn't come by limo, but he waved them in after perusing his guest list and being presented with the invitation. They were escorted through into the ballroom, where people were dancing, drinking, or discoursing in little groups.

Harry spotted one pair he wanted to see. An older man, grizzled but muscled, keen intelligence flashing in his bespectacled eyes, white hair and a moustache, and looking as uncomfortable with his suit as Harry felt. With him was an attractive young woman with red hair, green eyes glinting behind glasses, sitting in a wheelchair. Nonetheless, she managed to dress herself in a very elegant dress. "…hate this too, Dad, but he's raising money to upgrade the security at Arkham. That's a cause you can get behind, right?" the woman asked.

The man nodded. "Of course it is, Barbara. I just don't like being at occasions like this while things are still going on. Never mind the fact that the supercriminals like to target shindigs like this. And of course, there's this new vigilante pair to deal with."

"You mean Yin and Yang?" Harry asked, stepping forward. "Commissioner Gordon, I presume? And Doctor Barbara Gordon? I'm Harry Potter, and this is my lovely wife Luna."

Gordon took his hand with a smile. "Good to meet you. Heard a bit about you two. Had someone come to me a week or so ago and say you had done hush-hush work in England. Claimed that you two were wizards or something, and that as I had to deal with the rather colourful characters here, I was allowed to be in the know. You apparently had to deal with some terrorist wizard attacking you, didn't you?"

Harry nodded. "Who was it that came to you?"

"Some Brit called Shacklebolt. Called himself the Minister of Magic, but I could tell he used to be a cop."

"Yeah, he used to be with the magical police force, the Aurors," Harry said, both relieved and irritated that Kingsley Shacklebolt had done so. Still, better him than, say, Malfoy. At least Kingsley knew how to act like a Muggle when the situation called for it. "The problem is, there's the whole Statute of Secrecy thing. Hell, it used to be even worse here than in Britain until the middle of last century. Then again, this city's known for its weirdos." He then looked at Barbara. "Sorry your dad and I are talking shop."

"That's fine," Barbara said, smiling. "I don't get many people calling me 'Doctor' Gordon. Then again, my doctorate's in library science."

"Hey, never underestimate a good library," Luna said. "Have you ever read Terry Pratchett?"

"Of course. Are you talking about L-Space?" Barbara said, grinning.

"Yep."

"What are they talking about?" Gordon asked.

"L-Space, a concept created by a humorous fantasy novelist called Terry Pratchett. Luna loves him. Supposedly, because knowledge is power, and power is energy, and energy is mass, collections of books, especially bookstores and libraries, can warp space and time. And while that sounds ridiculous…"

"Potter, I've had to deal with some pretty ridiculous things in my time. A library that can warp time and space is not so much a leap of faith as it is a slight hop."

"Call me Harry, please," Harry said. "Most of the people who called me 'Potter' were usually those who hated my guts, Commissioner."

"Got it. And as long as it's while I'm off duty, you can call me James."

"My dad was called James. He worked for the Aurors too. Anyway, you were saying something about Yin and Yang earlier?"

"Yeah. These two…I'm still not sure what to make of them. I mean, it's been years since the Batman came onto the scene, and I'm still getting used to vigilantes working in this town. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate them bringing Scarecrow and Harvey back to Arkham, but even so…I've at least gotten to know the Batman, so I'm pretty skittish about these newcomers. And of course, the lawyers of some of these guys they deal with have a field day. Though I'll have to give Yin and Yang that much: they can restrain these guys without beating the tar out of them. That being said, look over there."

Harry followed Gordon's look, to a rather pompous looking, jowly man with a cane who was talking to the reporter Vicki Vale. He recognised him. "That's Quincy Sharp, isn't it? The current warden of Arkham Asylum?"

"Yes," Barbara said. "His family have a long and proud military history, but he was denied military service. He went into politics instead. He's loaded. He's the one who reopened Arkham and renovated it. Not that the security couldn't use work. He's not the only one here: he brought a couple of his staff along with him. See that woman sitting down there, making notes about something?"

Harry nodded. The woman was attractive, dark-haired, but had a fussy, pedantic air that reminded Harry of Hermione's worst traits. "Who's that?"

"Dr Penelope Young. Supposedly, she's one of the top therapists in Arkham, and also one of their key researchers. Ambitious and pretty intelligent," Barbara said. "I've read some of her papers."

"And that guy over there," Gordon said, nodding towards a burly black man, who had a metal claw instead of a hand, and who was talking to Bruce Wayne. "Aaron Cash. He used to be one of my best officers, until a few years back. He quit the force, and then joined Arkham Asylum as a guard. He's one of the best they have. He's got a rather strong enmity with Killer Croc. Apparently Croc ate his hand, and wants to eat the rest of him."

"Do you think Killer Croc may be an Animagus?" Luna asked. "I think he might be a kaiju Animagus."

"Kai-what?" Gordon asked.

"She means something like Godzilla, Dad," Barbara asked. "I'm guessing an Animagus is something like a witch or wizard that can transform into an animal or something."

"Got it in one," Harry said, though he noted that Barbara had more certainty in her eyes than from a mere guess. He reckoned she knew what they were.

"Maybe you should use your magic or something to help secure some of the inmates at Arkham," Gordon said. "We could do with less escapes."

"Now that's an idea," Luna mused. But before they could say anything more, there was a commotion outside. And the door burst open to reveal various massive vines and plants writhing in, making it fairly blatant who the gatecrasher was.

And even so, even if people didn't guess it, the woman sashaying her way in was pretty distinctive. Red hair, green skin and eyes, dressed in what looked like a one-piece swimsuit made entirely out of foliage, and bloody sexy. It could really be nobody else than Pamela Isley, better known as Poison Ivy.

"Oh, not now," Gordon groaned. Harry noticed that Bruce Wayne was leaving the room. Not that anyone else barring Luna and, it seemed, Barbara, whose eyes met Harry's.

"Greetings, the so-called great and the good of Gotham," Poison Ivy purred in a sultry tone. "Or, at least, the rich. I have come here to…" she added with disdain. But that was about as far as she got, before Luna Lovegood broke away from Harry, and went up to Ivy. "Oh, do we have a volunteer to act as my hostage?" Ivy asked, recovering her equilibrium rather quickly. "You look familiar."

Ivy was then surprised when Luna began kissing her. Then again, so was everyone else. After all, Ivy's kisses were infamously lethal. Luna then grinned widely after breaking it off, and then toppled to the ground. So too did Ivy, amazingly enough, her eyes wide, her arms snapping to her sides and her legs snapping together, before she dropped to the ground like a felled tree.

"Luna!" Harry yelled, dashing over to her. He fumbled in his pockets, realising that they had left their mokeskin pouches behind. And with them, any bezoars or antidotes they could use. And he couldn't use Apparition in front of these people, as not all of them knew of the mages, and even in a town full of weirdos, it might still be enough for him to get in trouble with the locals.

Luna hissed quietly, "When he comes, ask Batman for the antidote."

"But you're dying, Luna!"

"Not yet. You're not getting off that easily, Harry. It's paralytic, not cytotoxic, this one."

Luna had lost consciousness in the few minutes it took for the Batman to make his appearance, via the very door destroyed by Ivy. "Batman, I need your help. Luna, she…" Harry began.

"I know. That was very brave…and foolish," Batman said, walking over, plucking a small syringe form his utility belt. He then jabbed it into Luna, whose eyes flickered open. "It'll be a while before the poison completely leaches out of her system. She needs some rest. I'll go and take Ivy back to Arkham, where she belongs."

As Batman began dragging Ivy away, Alfred appeared. "If I may be of help?"

"Sure. I'll help you. Where're we taking her?" Harry asked.

"To one of the bedrooms. We have so many unused…"

* * *

A few hours later, Luna was still rather weakened by Ivy's poison, while Alfred and Harry tended to her. Barbara Gordon had also made her way in, while her father had left to go and deal with Ivy. Then, Bruce Wayne walked in, adjusting his tie, looking rather harassed and harried. "Sorry about that. Most of the other guests have gone. Ivy's a real weed, isn't she? Popping up when we don't need her…"

"Weeds are interesting," Luna said weakly. "All that genetic diversity you don't get with bred flowers. Thanks for saving me anyway, Batman."

You could feel the temperature in the room plummet, and the tension rise. You could certainly see the change between Bruce Wayne, wastrel playboy, and Bruce Wayne, vigilante. Harry facepalmed. "Goddammit, Luna…" he groaned.

"What? It's rude not to show gratitude."

At first, Bruce Wayne and Alfred looked set to protest, until Bruce then looked at the two wizards. "You knew," Bruce said. "That's why you let Ivy kiss you. Because you were sure I could get to you on time with the antidote. And you went in close so that you could use your magic without anyone noticing…am I correct, Yin and Yang?"

"Yep, we've been rumbled," Harry muttered. "I thought there was something odd about the way Barbara here was looking at us. So, seeing as you haven't denied being the Batman, what're you going to do with us?"

Bruce crossed his arms. "For the moment? Nothing. I don't like others following me into this lifestyle, magic or not. But for the moment, while I cannot trust you wholly, given that your actions have been consistently helpful…I will give you the benefit of the doubt. Besides, I heard what you did for Victor. He certainly deserves a second chance. And what you did at the ball saved us all a lot of trouble."

"Not angry I stole your thunder, Mr Wayne?" Luna asked with a cheeky grin.

"I'm more angry that you put yourself at risk," Bruce said.

"Worth it. How many people can say that they kissed Poison Ivy and lived? My cousin, you, me…any others?" Luna said.

"I would suggest that you start being serious," Bruce said.

"Actually, that was my late and lamented godfather," Harry said. "And Mr Wayne? You don't want to see her when she's serious. When she's serious is when it's time to start running for the hills."

"Is that a threat?" Bruce asked.

"No. I'm just telling you, a serious Luna is a danger to anyone who's pissed her off," Harry said. "She gets _inventive_. Just ask Antonin Dolohov…assuming you can find his head."

"I don't kill people who have roused my ire," Luna said in a faint, but deadly serious tone. "They do wish I didn't have such 'scruples' once I'm done with them, though. I gave Dolohov's head to Hermione. I think she slaps him every so often. Especially when he calls her a Mudblood. I don't do anything as mundane as kill or inflict pain. I am a Ravenclaw. We use our heads, our creativity."

"The guy who she's talking about is a mass-murderer and a rapist," Harry said. "If you know anything about our magic, then you may have heard of the defunct terrorist group known as the Death Eaters. He was one of them, and one of the worst. He also managed to escape before he was sent to prison, and tried to force himself on Luna. That was the last mistake he made. I think his other body parts are in separate vaults in Gringotts."

"Except his penis. I sold that to Borgin and Burkes' to be used as a dubious potion ingredient."

"Luna, I don't think they want to know that," Harry said.

"Actually, having had the displeasure of knowing Dolohov shortly before I left Britain," Alfred said, "I think I can safely say I find myself pleased."

"I'd also suggest that you avoid such displays of…creativity while in Gotham," Bruce said. "I'm taking a risk letting you do this here. Don't abuse that."

Harry got the feeling that Bruce was going to regret saying that. Just this sinking feeling he had…

 **CHAPTER 3 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Okay, this is the last chapter before the timeskip to the beginning of** ** _Batman: Arkham Asylum_** **. I didn't think this story would become a full story before my next update, but, well, you're reading it now, aren't you? I hope you liked this, and how Harry and Luna revealed that they know who Batman is. He's still wary, but willing to give them the benefit of the doubt, for now, though his mind is thinking of ways to take them down if necessary. By the point that** ** _Arkham Asylum_** **happens, he trusts them somewhat more, as does Gordon.**

 **1\. I did something similar for my (to date) one and only Harry/Ginny story, a one-shot called** ** _HoneyMoon_** **. Only it was Harry and Ginny rather than Harry and Luna in that story.**


	87. Yin and Yang Chapter 4

_**YIN AND YANG**_

 **CHAPTER 4:**

 **TAKEOVER BID**

"I can't believe you guys are doin' this," Officer Aaron Cash said, looking around the plants in the vast space, like a jungle. "This feels more like rewarding her, not punishing her."

Harry, under his guise as Yang, sighed. "True, but there's a few reasons why we're doing this. One, Ivy's been complaining lately about her children 'screaming'. She seems to think Doctor Young's responsible. The more she's like that, the less cooperative she'll be with you guys, right? So this is more to make her cooperative, by giving her controlled access to plants, but with wards preventing any plants from attacking anyone who does enter, or any equipment."

Cash nodded. "I guess. And the other reasons?"

"Ivy's one of the few supercriminals who shows any empathy towards humans, albeit mostly towards children. Adults, she mostly thinks are a lost cause, but you know about what she did in Robinson Park during that earthquake. Give her an environment where she can thrive, but still be confined and controlled, and it might help. It also means that, if we have a communications set up in here, she can attend therapy sessions remotely. That saves your guards and your shrinks from having to deal with her in person, just in case she uses her pheromones. We also have cameras on the only exit, warded against damage. The room itself has runes and wards that will last for decades unless Ivy attacks them, and if she does, the room will instantly collapse into its original dimensions. It'll probably not kill her, but she'll end up confined to a relatively small space with her plants. And she'll have a tracking charm on her. She won't be monitored all the time for her privacy via cameras, but you'll be able to track where she is through the security system. It also dampens her influence over the plants outside this area. Finally, if she needs someone to actually attend to her, then the wards will prevent her pheromones or plants from attacking them. I hope. Yin's work is pretty good."

"You turned this part of the Botanical Gardens into a TARDIS," Cash remarked, looking around the room. "I just hope you're able to make it secure along with what we managed to install. Sharp ain't happy."

"Even though he isn't paying for it?"

"He doesn't like Ivy. Neither do I, frankly, but he really hates her guts for some reason. Then again, the way he looks at some inmates…of course, considering the Batman's given you the A-OK on this, I'll roll with it. Any other inmates you're going to give the cushy treatment to?"

"Not really. Unless Victor Fries ends up here again. Maybe Harley Quinn. I mean, she was good once, she can be again," Harry said.

"Who knows?" The door to what amounted to a small indoor jungle opened, and a group of guards and doctors wheeled through what looked like a glass coffin. Within was Poison Ivy. While she wasn't wearing her usual outfit of a leafy swimsuit, her current clothing was even more provocative, consisting of little more than an Arkham Asylum prison shirt, only buttoned up just enough to preserve some small decency for her breasts, and what looked like panties grown from leaves. She looked a little irritated. "Okay, we'll be getting out, you two. But make sure she understands the ground rules, and those helmets had better filter out those pheromones like you claimed, Yang."

Harry nodded, with the escort of Poison Ivy leaving. Luna, who had been making final adjustments, skipped over. "Hey, Ivy. Ready for your new home away from home?"

Ivy scowled at her, and said, "Just let me out, Yin."

"Oh, be nice," Luna said, pouting from behind her helmet. She then opened the lid, and Ivy clambered out. As she did so, she blinked, and then looked around.

It looked like a jungle in miniature, all sorts of plants around. True, most of them were not actually that exotic, and were actually chosen because they were either fruit-bearing, or else not readily influenced by Ivy's powers. But it certainly would seem that way to a woman imprisoned usually in a special isolation chamber in the Green Mile of the Penitentiary of Arkham. There was also a small shed, with a bed, basic washing and hygiene facilities, and a chair. The space was actually a few square kilometres, easily the size of Robinson Park. "What is this?"

"Your new home. You're still in solitary confinement, but you're in a now secure room within the Botanical Gardens, expanded and secured with security both mundane and magical. Then again, with your plants, it's not exactly solitary confinement," Harry said.

Ivy then remarked, a little acidly, "How kind. And I know humans don't do such things without expecting anything in exchange."

"Causing less trouble for Arkham's staff is all we want, and all they want," Harry said. "Plus, if you behave, we can get you access to plants you may not have heard of. Like Devil's Snare."

Ivy snorted. "Do you think me naïve? I know of the magicals and their plants. Not as many as I would like, to be sure, but they've never allowed me to have any of their botany books. Afraid I might do something with them."

Luna then indicated a small box sitting near a chair, and said, "Which is why we gave you a few Herbology books, though we can only give you a few under the law. Just enough to keep you entertained when you get bored of your plants."

"I never get bored of my plants," Ivy said. "But your…altruism, qualified though it is, is noted." That was probably the nearest thing they would get to gratitude from her.

"What did you mean that Dr Young was responsible for your children screaming, anyway?" Harry asked.

"Why would you believe me?" Ivy asked. "Nobody else would."

"I dunno. When it comes to your children, you're pretty honest," Luna said.

After a moment, Ivy admitted, "I sometimes see her face through the link to my children. There's a laboratory somewhere in the Botanical Gardens. She has twisted my children out of shape, using them to process something that feels like Venom. You know what that is?"

"Is that the stuff Bane uses?" Harry asked.

"Yes, though he disappeared some time ago, after breaking out of Blackgate. The few times I have been able to see Young through my children, she hasn't mentioned him, merely referring to someone called 'Patient X'. I know the smell of Venom, though, and she is using my plants as glorified chemical factories. Though…the last time I saw her, she seemed to have…an attack of conscience. Too little, too late, but she seems to have qualms about the process. All I know is that she was creating a new sort of drug to physically and mentally strengthen her patients, in order to have them withstand stronger treatments. I am telling you this because you bothered to ask. Not to mention giving this…small kindness to me." She indicated the jungle they were in.

"We'll see what we can do. We'll notify Batman. If there's an illegal experiment with Venom, he'll try to stop it," Harry said.

"You can try. Warden Sharp's complicit in it, even if he doesn't know the full details of the process. But I agree. The Batman is an anthophobic(1) brute, but that is something I suppose is in his favour. Bring this matter to his attention. I'm sure he will be at the Asylum shortly. I heard while they were bringing me here that he has gone to capture the clown, again."

Luna noted the venom in her voice, and remarked, "You don't like him much, do you?"

"Only Harley likes that clown," Ivy retorted. "He's a bad influence on her."

"Sadly, you'd be a better influence on her than he would be," Harry remarked.

"Nothing so sad about it. Now, go. I wish to read what you kindly donated to me," Ivy said.

* * *

It had been several months since the ball. Harry and Luna were on fairly decent terms with Batman and his associates. They got on best with Barbara Gordon, aka Oracle, as well as Alfred Pennyworth. Harry and Luna now had a dedicated comms channel to the information broker and hacker, who had once been Batgirl. Batman and Robin they got along a little less well with. They were still on good terms, and Robin, aka Tim Drake, was more friendly than his mentor, but Batman, while accepting, was still wary of the two magical vigilantes. Then again, he was wary of everyone.

As they walked out of the Botanical Gardens, the two vigilantes set their helmets to private, blocking anyone from hearing their voices, and opened up a secure comms channel to Barbara. "Barbara, are you there?" Harry asked.

" _Yeah. Looks like a busy night. Bruce has just snagged the Joker and saved the mayor. He's a bit uneasy: the Joker went a little too easily, and with Harley's whereabouts unknown_ …"

"Yeah, that probably sounds suspicious. What do you reckon, Luna?"

"Well, Arkham is the most familiar place to him. And with those Blackgate prisoners they've shipped over because of that fire, well…it does sound suspicious. That many coincidences can't be Wrackspurts."

" _Leaving that aside, what did you call me for?_ " Barbara asked.

"We want whatever information you have on Doctor Penelope Young," Harry said. "Ivy's made some disturbing allegations about her, and while Ivy's not averse to lying to get her own way, she's worried that Young is using her plants as part of some experiment. And given how attached Ivy is to her plants…"

" _Yeah, I see what you mean. Anything else?_ "

"Ivy claims that Young is using something like Venom in the plants. And you know that's bad news."

" _Yeah. Look, I'll start digging. That way, we'll have some evidence before you go snooping. Dad's already at the Asylum, making sure the Joker gets locked up._ "

By this time, they made it to the front entrance to Intensive Treatment, in time to witness the Batmobile roar up the drive. "He's here," Harry said. "Codenames only over comms unless in secure mode. We'll help him with Joker. Harry and Luna out."

The streamlined form of the Batmobile slowed to a halt, and the canopy soon opened up, with the Batman stepping out, and then hauling out the figure of the Joker. It was actually the first time Harry and Luna had seen the Joker in person. They had met Harley Quinn, both inside and outside of costume, but this was the first time they had met her 'Mr J'.

The lanky form should have been unimpressive, once you took away the garish purple suit, green hair, pale white skin, and red lips perpetually set in a malevolent rictus. And yet, one still got a sense of malice radiating from his body language. The clown look was merely trappings. It didn't take a clown to laugh at the misery of others.

"Ooh-ho-ho!" the Joker chortled. "I'm really privileged tonight. I finally get to meet Yin and Yang! The other Dynamic Duo! Are you two having it off too?"

Harry and Luna kept silent. As unashamed as they were of their sex life, the Joker didn't need to know that, and Batman didn't need to have them responding to the Joker's insinuations about him and Robin. Batman dragged him over to the entrance of the Intensive Treatment area, nodding at Yin and Yang. "Is Ivy secure?" he asked.

"Yep," Luna said. "But there's something else going on. We'll talk to you later about it."

The door opened, and Batman escorted the handcuffed Joker through, none too gently. Sharp was waiting there, pompous as ever, along with a guard Harry and Luna didn't like, a scarred man by the name of Frank Boles. Unlike Cash, or indeed many of the guards, who were competent and tried to stay free of corruption, Boles was one of those ones who stank, and of more than the alcohol he habitually drank from a flask. He thought he was king of Arkham.

"Hey, Sharpie!" Joker jeered as he lurched forward. "Love what you've done with the place."

"That's _Warden_ Sharp to you," Sharp said. "Boles!"

"Yo, Frank-ay!" Joker yelled. "How's the wife and kids? You miss me?"

Boles merely snarled, and grabbed the infamous criminal by the lapels of his coat. "Shut it, clown! A lotta people want to have a word with you."

Joker was then shoved over to a waiting gurney, and strapped down, offering commentary as he did so. "Get that filthy degenerate out of here," Sharp ordered the guards.

"Warden, something's not right. I'm going with him," Batman said. And without waiting for acknowledgement, he followed the Joker as he was wheeled away. Harry and Luna followed. To Officer North, one of the guards, he asked, "Is Commissioner Gordon here yet?"

"Yes, sir. He's at Patient Handover. He got here just before you did. Are they with you?" North asked, indicating Harry and Luna.

"Yes."

As they escorted Joker onto a small elevator platform to a security checkpoint, they heard Sharp remark that he wanted the Joker locked away securely. Another escape attempt would scupper his mayoral campaign. Harry rolled his eyes. Sharp reminded him a little too much of Fudge…

* * *

The journey to Intensive Treatment proper was a long one. The Joker made some pointed remarks as they passed Cash (who had gotten here earlier after Harry and Luna dealt with Ivy) and Dr Young, who looked scared when he suggested she make an appointment with him, as they had a lot to talk about. Harry set his helmet to private, and then sent to Batman, "Dr Young's up to something dodgy with Venom and plants, according to Ivy. Oracle's doing some digging. You see what Joker said to her?"

Batman nodded slightly in acknowledgement. Harry then disengaged the private mode of his helmet. There then came a bit when Joker deliberately scared the doctor examining him for injuries, a brief encounter with a belligerent Killer Croc, and then a brief blackout in the elevator after the Joker dropped some heavy hints. All the while, they had the pompous announcements of Sharp on television screens.

Finally, they reached Patient Handover, where Gordon was waiting. He shook their hands, Gordon having warmed to the two new vigilantes. "Long night, Jim?" Batman asked.

"You could say that. Joker invades City Hall, holds the Mayor hostage…which means juggling SWAT teams, the media, and you. Gonna need a lot of coffee for this one."

"Hopefully, it'll be the last one caused by him," Batman remarked.

Harry sighed. "That's just daring the universe to prove you wrong, Batman. The metaphysical equivalent of painting a sign over your groin saying 'Here are my testicles: Please kick them'."

"You stole that joke from _Blackadder!_ " Joker snapped.

"And?" Harry said with a shrug. "You like _Blackadder?_ Only, if you make like Baldrick and say you have a cunning plan, I will hit you."

"Actually, if we're going to go with cultural references, Yang, I think I will emulate Francis Urquhart from _House of Cards_ and say, 'You may think that, I couldn't possibly comment'," Joker retorted.

"Do not engage with him," Batman said.

"Sorry, I have a tendency to have the last word," Harry said.

They came to a secure area with an electrified energy gate, used to block prisoners' progress, beyond which were some holding cells. A guard and a doctor were waiting there, and the guard held up a hand. "I'm sorry, Batman, but Arkham staff only beyond this point. Ditto for you two." Gordon tried to protest, but the man said, "Look, I appreciate the assistance, Batman, but you'll…unsettle the more violent inmates."

Joker chuckled as he was unstrapped from the trolley, and led to the guard and doctor. "Oh dear, does that sting?" Joker sneered.

"Is it at all possible to give him a napalm enema?" Luna asked.

The doctor smirked. "We can give him a 3H enema. High, Hot, and a Hell of a lot(2)."

"Ooh, sounds like fun," Joker said. "You know how to press my buttons, Yin. I look forward to our next meeting." He was then hauled into the holding cell area, the electric field deactivated briefly, saying, "Don't be a stranger. You're always welcome here. Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home."

"You okay?" Gordon asked Batman.

"No," Batman said. "He surrendered almost without a fight. I don't like it."

"Yeah, his bullshit meter's going 'ding'," Harry remarked. "So's mine."

"And mine," Luna said.

"You don't have a bullshit meter, Yin," Harry retorted. "Nargles, remember?"

"Nargles, bullies, same thing." The three vigilantes and Gordon went into an observation room as the electric field went back into place.

"At least he's back where he belongs," Gordon said. But then, the Joker stumbled, pulling the guard down with him. And as the guard told him to get up, the Joker headbutted him, before prancing around the stunned guard to start throttling him with his handcuffs.

"Alert the Warden!" Batman yelled. "Joker's getting loose!" He then punched the glass window, cracking it, but not breaking it.

Luna then yelled, "Allow me! BOMBARDA!" The blasting spell blew out the window, and Batman jumped through, just as the Joker removed his handcuffs. Luna then yelled, "ACCIO!", and the doctor, who had been dithering while trying to save the guard, who had just been killed by the Joker, flew into the observation area, while Batman ran after the Joker.

"Honey, I'm home!" the Joker called to one of the cameras.

" _Come on in!_ " came a familiar voice over the PA system. The Joker then dashed for the exit, and the electrified field came up just before Batman could catch the Joker.

"Ooh, you nearly got me that time, Bats!" the Joker jeered. "Still, I bid you welcome to the madhouse! I set a trap, and you sprung it gloriously! Now, let's get this party started!" He then dashed for the observation office opposite their own, and released convicts from their holding cells to fight Batman.

Batman then yelled, "Yin, Yang! Stay with Gordon! I can handle them!"

As he fought the convicts off, the Joker retorted, " _Confident, aren't we? Well, let's see how well you do with these guys…_ "

 **CHAPTER 4 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry and Luna, along with Oracle, are aware that something is rotten in the state of Arkham. The emphasis of this story will be more on what Harry and Luna are doing.**

 **Now, I'm going to be making sure that the events of** ** _Arkham Knight_** **don't happen (partly because I haven't played that game). There's two key factors for that, factors that will be changed. I think you can guess what they are, if you know something about that game, and what was happening concurrently with** ** _Arkham Asylum_** **.**

 **1\. Anthophobia is a fear of flowers (I couldn't find one for a fear of plants on Wikipedia). Not to be confused with anthrophobia, fear of people (also called anthropophobia).**

 **2\. I read this on a list of medical slang and terms. Supposedly given to particularly annoying patients. Doctor House would be proud.**


	88. Yin and Yang Chapter 5

_**YIN AND YANG**_

 **CHAPTER 5:**

 **UNCOVERING SECRETS**

To see things through the eyes of Luna Lovegood could be called an interesting experience, in the curse sense of the word interesting. People, however, made the mistake of thinking her insane, of her seeing things that weren't there. This wasn't true, at least most of the time. She tended to see too much, and put her own spin on it, rather than seeing things that weren't there. After all, if something wasn't visible, it didn't mean it wasn't there. Thestrals, people under Invisibility Cloaks, air, non-visible EM radiation, Wrackspurts, to list a few.

She also had a sense of the gadfly about her, the troll, the girl who liked to say provocative things just to see the eyes being rolled, hear the exasperated groans. In a way, she was like the Joker, and like her cousin, Harleen Quinzel, in that she did this to provoke a reaction. But unlike them, Luna Lovegood's grasp on sanity, while odd, was nonetheless far from tenuous.

She observed many things. And one thing she observed was Frank Boles. She did it in a way that he couldn't tell she was looking at him, not that he could see her face behind her helmet. And she realised he had shown no surprise when the Joker broke free. Well, the Joker did make a habit of breaking free from Arkham Asylum, but you'd think there would be anger, fury, fear, or at the very least some sort of weary resignation. Instead…there was something anticipatory in the man's expression. No smile or anything, but even so…he looked like someone impatient for his reward. And that disturbed her, given that he was known to be one of the dodgiest guards in Arkham.

Discreetly, she decided to use Legilimency on him. And what she found there shocked her…

* * *

Gordon looked at the security control panel as Batman fought against the thugs. "Damn! Joker's locked us out!"

"You mean his accomplice," Harry said. He had to admit, watching Batman fight was a revelation. It was a perfect mixture of grace and pragmatism. In an all-out physical fight, he'd certainly lose against him, as would Luna. Not unless he used his magic, anyway, and he wouldn't put it past the infamous paranoid and prepared Batman to have countermeasures, just in case. "That sounded like Harley over the PA, didn't it?"

"Yeah. Crazy bitch must've infiltrated this place. Which means Batman was right, this was a setup. I had that feeling something was up too. I must be getting as paranoid as he is."

Suddenly, they heard Luna snarl, " _Petrificus Totalus._ " An undignified yelp, cut off, heralded Boles collapsing to the floor as they whirled around.

"Yin?!" Harry asked.

He couldn't see her face with that helmet on, but Harry knew his wife, lover, and partner in, if not crime, then vigilantism well enough to know that she was pissed. "He was the Joker's inside man," she hissed.

"How do you know? Wait, Batman said you two could read minds, right?"

"With a special spell, yes," Luna said. "I thought there was something odd about him, like he was waiting for something. He didn't seem scared that the Joker was loose. This bastard has let him out of his cell before in exchange for money and favours. He was going to take you to Harley after a certain period so that you could act as a hostage, Commissioner. And there's something else. Yang, get these two to safety. Batman!"

Batman, who had just finished beating up the goons, looked up. "What is it, Yin?"

Luna levitated Boles out of the window, and manoeuvred him into one of the cells, and then summoned a ward. "Boles was Joker's inside man. He'll be safer in there than he deserves. Batman, he also knew about something secret, something that has little to do with tonight. I need you to trust me on this."

After a moment, Batman nodded, reluctantly. "Very well. Yin, you find that secret, but I want to hear everything afterwards. Yang, get Gordon to safety, along with everyone else you can find. Notify them that the Joker is on the loose, and that Boles was their inside man." He indicated the passageway that Joker fled through, the electric field now disabled, an open invitation. "I'm going after the Joker."

"You know it's a trap," Gordon said. It wasn't a question. "Joker's in full control of the security systems."

"I know. Contact the Warden and let him know what's happened. I'll be back."

Joker's voice came over the PA system. " _Don't make promises you can't keep, Bats. I'm in control of Arkham now. You're not going anywhere I don't want you to. And I'm sure even Yin and Yang will find it hard to go around with impunity._ "

"If you think I'll let you run…" Batman began, before he was cut off by the Joker.

" _Blah, blah, blah, always with the tedious heroic speech. I'm liking Yang more than you already, at least he can snark and do references. I'm getting bored of you already. Come and find me, Bats. Oh, and Yin? If you really have figured out Boles' little secret, I suggest you get moving. 'Cause an old friend of Batman here, charming fellow by the name of Slade, is dealing with it as we speak._ "

"Ram it, clown," Luna said. And with that, she Apparated.

" _Like I haven't heard that one before. Still, she's interesting, I'll give you that much. Anyway…won't you walk into my parlour, said the spider to the fly?_ " With a cackle, the Joker went off the air.

"Does Yin know anything about Slade Wilson?" Batman asked.

"I've only heard of him. He's that mercenary called Deathstroke, right?"

Batman nodded. "Call Oracle, tell her to tell Yin about Slade! I'm going after the Joker."

As he rushed down the corridor, Harry activated his privacy setting on his helmet, and called up Oracle, while Gordon tried to call up Sharp. "Barbara, are you there?"

" _Yes. What's wrong? Is Joker on the loose?_ "

"Yeah. We called it, he was up to something, and Quinn's in charge of the security systems. Listen, I need you to tell Luna everything you can about Slade Wilson. Apparently she's going to be facing him."

" _Deathstroke?! Damn. Bruce encountered him for the first time in his second year as Batman. Slade was one of the assassins hired to kill him. Originally, it was thought to be Black Mask, but the Joker hijacked Roman Sionis' identity. I'll send it to Luna. I'll let you know what I dug up about Young so far later. Is my father all right?_ "

"Yeah. Shaken, but all right. I'll get him to safety. I'm tasked with making sure the others are safe. But I'm going to investigate Young as well. Do you know where she is?"

" _Gimme a sec_ ," Barbara said. After a moment, she added, " _She's heading to the Medical Facility. So's Cash. Problem is, a bunch of former Blackgate inmates are already on the loose and some are heading there. Quinn must've loosed them already. I can't hack into the security system proper, though, they've taken it off the grid. The best I can do is what security feeds that are automatically sent into the GCPD network._ "

"Shit. Any parts of the Asylum currently still secure?"

" _Currently, the Botanical Gardens and Arkham Mansion. Intensive Treatment, the Penitentiary, and the Medical Facility are all being overrun as we speak, if the radio chatter from the guards are any indication. Damn, the network feed from Arkham's completely down now. And there's more. Joker's just released a threat to the media and the GCPD. He works fast. Or maybe he pre-recorded it. There's bomb threats all over Gotham. If anyone interferes with Arkham, he'll detonate them._ "

"Could be a bluff, but this is the Joker we're talking about. Even a distraction could be lethal. Okay, Harry out."

"Well?" Gordon asked as Harry turned to them. As far as Harry knew, Gordon didn't know his daughter was Oracle.

"The only secure places on the island at the moment are the Botanical Gardens and Arkham Mansion. But Doctor Young and Cash are heading to the Medical Facility. Ivy made allegations about Young when we transferred her, so once I get you two to safety, I'm investigating her. Did you contact Sharp?"

"No, he's not at any communications point. The guards seem to think he was snatched."

" _I can help you there, guys_ ," came the lilting, familiar voice of Harley Quinn, who had appeared on a TV screen. Harry had to do a double take. She was dressed in what could only be described as a fetishistic nurse outfit.

"Harley, you've got to stop bringing your bedroom fantasies with the Joker along with your work. Seriously, are you going to get a biker girl outfit next?" Harry snarked.

" _Ooh, that's a great idea, Yangey boy(_ _1)_ _! So, Yin managed to figure out that Boles was our inside guy, huh? Not that it's gonna do you much good. Mister J and I, we're in charge now._ " She moved the camera to show Warden Sharp, bound and gagged to a rolling chair. " _Old Sharpie's takin'…uh…stress-related leave. It can't be good for the old ticker._ "

"Neither's being taken hostage. I'd tell you to stop this, but we know you won't, even if I ask nicely."

" _Yeah, well, this is Mister J's homecomin' party! B-man's the guest of honour, but I suppose we can accommodate a couple o' gatecrashers. Besides, B-man's busy with Victor Zsasz. Gotta go! Oh, and don't think you can keep Gordon safe for long._ "

"I don't need keeping safe, you crazy bitch," Gordon said.

" _Ya gonna be eatin' those words soon, Gordon. Ciao!_ "

As she faded, Gordon turned to Harry, indicating the doctor, who was still in shock from his near-Joker experience. "Yang, take us to Arkham Mansion so we can leave this guy there. Then, we'll head to Medical. If Ivy is right, and that's a big if, then we'll have to check things out."

"You sure?"

"I'm not incompetent or an invalid, Yang. If the Batman trusts you to watch my back, then I'll trust his judgement. Besides, I want to be doing something."

"Okay, but Oracle told me that Joker's made an announcement to the GCPD and the media. There's bombs all around Gotham. If anyone interferes with Arkham…"

"He'll detonate them. Bastard."

"He might be bluffing, as the main action will be here, and he wants police to stay away from it, but I personally wouldn't be surprised if he did use real bombs. The Joker is unpredictable."

* * *

A couple of Apparitions later, and Harry and Gordon were inside the Medical Facility. Then, he heard Barbara, now using a voice disguising electronic device, over the public line. " _Yang, it's me. Batman's on the line. Yin's listening, but she can't say much._ "

Harry nodded, turning the comms channel to 'speakerphone', allowing Gordon to listen in, and even respond. "Okay, Oracle. Gordon's listening as well. Hit me. What's the go with Young?"

" _I did some digging into her finances and emails. Dr Young was heading up a big project, with a lot of external funding. I'll send the files I found to Batman when he has access to the Batcave._ "

"That's a bit far away."

" _I set an auxiliary one up in advance on Arkham Island_ ," Batman said. " _Once I secure some supplies from the Batmobile, I'll head there._ "

"Of course you did," Harry muttered, by now used to Batman's zealous preparations.

" _Yang, when I caught up with the Joker, he set some hulking beast after me. It used to be an inmate, but he was twisted out of proportion. It looked almost like a Venom transformation, but far more grotesque. The inmate died after we fought, and the Joker remarked about needing better test subjects. He then took a freight container into a secure area. He's warned me not to follow. Once I've analysed these files, I'll come to you at Medical._ "

" _There's more_ ," Barbara said. " _Most of the funding for this project came from one Jack White._ "

" _That's one of the Joker's oldest aliases_ ," Batman said.

" _Yeah. Eventually, the payments halted. Or rather, they were refused. Young blocked them herself. She then sent a resignation email to Sharp a week ago. I think she was trying to get out._ "

" _The Joker always reacts badly when his partners back out_ ," Batman said.

" _And it's been no different here. There's also a long series of emails between her and Jack White. She wants to stop the experiment, calling it too dangerous. He's not giving a damn. There's random threats against her family, bad jokes, a picture of a dead baby, and a more personal threat. He said 'I'm coming for you! And I want what I paid for!' And another joke, this time about wheelchairs._ " After an uncomfortable moment, she said, " _Sorry, Commissioner._ "

Gordon nodded. He didn't know about Oracle and his daughter being the same. "It's the Joker who should be apologising, for that joke, and what he did to Barbara. Anything else?"

" _Just a picture of what could be a donkey._ "

Then, Luna's voice came through. " _Well, he_ _ **is**_ _an ass. Sorry, guys, I was engaged in the Deathstroke. Well, with him, anyway. In battle. I've just bunged him into the closest and most secure cell I could find. Not before stripping him of his clothes and equipment first, though. He was good at dodging my spells, I have to say. He must lack Wrackspurts. Well, in most areas. But I got lucky. I'll still have to go now. I've found someone with a lot of Wrackspurts, and he may not want to talk to you yet, Batman. Maybe Oracle, once I've gotten him a little less infested._ "

" _What do you mean, Yin?_ " Batman asked.

" _I've confirmed that he's alive. But…I don't think he wants to speak to you yet. He was the second protégé. Yin out._ "

"…Second protégé?" Gordon asked.

Oracle gasped. " _You don't think she means_ …"

" _I thought I saw him die at the hands of the Joker. It seems I was wrong_ ," Batman said, only the faintest hint of emotion in his voice betraying anger, fury…and relief, and happiness. " _But Yin may be right. Now is not the time. That'll come later._ "

* * *

In a darkened room in an isolated part of Arkham Asylum, Luna was carefully casting healing spells. She and Harry had mastered their wandless magic quite well, but healing spells were still tricky, especially for someone tortured for as long as the young man in front of her was. The young man stared at her, an ugly brand of the letter 'J' on his face. "Who…are you?" he rasped. He had been about to escape before Luna came in.

"A friend. I hope. I don't have many friends," Luna said. "I found out where you were from Boles."

"You're…not with Batman?"

"Not exactly. I like to annoy him." After a moment, she said, "He thought you were dead, you know."

"Liar…he abandoned me! _Replaced_ me!" But even as he struggled to his feet, he let out a cry of pain and sagged back. This was more to do with the healing spells than his injuries. If he wanted to, he could have overcome the pain of his injuries and fight, but the healing spells discouraged people from moving too much.

 _My cousin really did a number on you, didn't she? Apparently both she and Joker tortured you, mind, body, and soul_ , Luna thought. Out loud, she said, "You're in no condition to do anything. Don't worry, we're getting you out of here."

"How can you? Joker called to gloat, said he was sending Deathstroke here."

"Deathstroke's locked up. Look, can you remember who you are?"

"…Of course I can. I'm Jason Todd…the _real_ Robin."

 **CHAPTER 5 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, yeah. That just happened. Now, I haven't played** ** _Arkham Knight_** **, so I'm taking what I can from the Arkham series' Wiki. Jason Todd won't be playing a big role in the events of** ** _Arkham Asylum_** **, though. In the next chapter, when it comes out, Luna will be taking him home and having him sleep and heal, while she returns to fight the Joker's takeover. Todd will eventually reconcile with the Batfamily, but not yet. We'll wait until the end of** ** _Arkham Asylum_** **for that.**

 **And if you think Luna defeated Deathstroke too easily, well, she did point out that he was able to dodge most of her spells. She got lucky.**

 **1\. In this fic, at least, Harry gave Harley the idea of the biker girl outfit she wears in** ** _Arkham City_** **.**


	89. Yin and Yang Chapter 6

_**YIN AND YANG**_

 **CHAPTER 6:**

 **MEDICAL MALPRACTICE**

Harry sat across from Doctor Young in one of the small offices in the Sanitorium area, knowing that the gaze of his helmet made his staring all the more uncomfortable for Young. They had cleared out the upper floors of the Medical Facility of goons. "We know about you using Ivy's plants to refine Venom into something else," he said. "Ivy herself told us. We saw the way Joker threatened you. And we know some of what's going on. So…come clean."

After a moment, Young looked at Gordon. A plea for help died on her lips when she saw the Commissioner glaring. Eventually, she said, "I was contacted by a man called Jack White. I didn't know he was the Joker, I swear it! But he had read my research notes, about strengthening patients to allow for better treatments. He claimed he wanted to help my research, supplied me with money, resources, as well as a test subject. You know him as Bane."

"He escaped from Blackgate, didn't he?" Gordon asked.

"I don't know how he ended up here exactly. I guess the Joker managed to get a hold of him after he escaped Blackgate. All I know is, the warden created a new facility for Bane, who we dubbed Patient X. We studied him to see how Venom and the TN-1 derivative affected his body, as well as take samples of his blood to derive a new hybrid chemical from it. Titan was, as far as I was concerned, intended to strengthen the patient, not turn them into a monster. Jack White, however, insisted on the process being fine the way it was, which made me suspicious. But when I learned White was the Joker, and tried to back out…he threatened me. He rang me up, and told me he wanted his army of monsters."

"Hence why he allowed himself to be taken into custody," Gordon muttered. "He wants the formula, doesn't he?"

Young nodded. "I need to get to the Arkham Mansion and destroy my notes."

"But do you know the formula yourself?" Harry asked.

"Yes. If there was any way of erasing that from my memory, I would, but…"

"Doctor Young, I can erase that from your memory. I just don't do that without consent." _Unless it's necessary_ , he thought to himself. _Or we're taking revenge. Like when Luna erased Rookwood's toilet training_.

"Very well. I don't like destroying my research, but better that happens than it gets into the hands of the Joker," Young said. "You'll have to destroy the covert lab in the Botanical Gardens. Bane's held down below. But...when Cash and I first got here, I heard that Crane's loose down there."

"Crane? The Scarecrow is loose?!" Gordon demanded.

"Shit," Harry muttered. "That's all we need, the psycho who's like a living Boggart."

"A what?" Young asked.

"Long story." After a moment, Harry said, "The Batman has antidotes to Scarecrow's fear toxins. Of course, our helmets could keep out the toxins, so we'll wait until he's in contact again. As for your formula, we'll have to destroy it, along with the covert lab. Joker's probably got backup plans. I'll bet he's seized whatever Titan he could get. He already used it to create one monster. For the moment, we need to secure this place before the Joker's goons take it over."

* * *

Some minutes later, Luna Apparated into the Medical Facility. Harry conversed with her over the private comms channel, with Barbara listening in. Batman was currently en route to his auxiliary Batcave, having procured some explosive gel from the Batmobile.

After hearing everything, Batman eventually asked, " _Luna…is Jason all right?_ "

Luna nodded. "He's at our apartment, Bruce. I took him back there and sedated him, as well as gave him some potions. He's in a pretty bad way, physically and mentally. I don't think he wants to talk to you for a while, given that he thinks you replaced him. He's got too many Wrackspurts thanks to the Joker. But he's alive and, given time, he will be well again."

A sigh down the line. " _Thank God_ ," Batman said. " _I was certain Jason was dead. Yet another life lost on my conscience._ "

Barbara added, " _I'm glad too. Is he willing to talk to me once he's fine?_ "

"He asked after you quite a bit, actually, Barbara," Luna said. "He said when he saw what the Joker did to you, he wanted to cripple the fucking clown himself: his words rather than mine."

After a moment, Batman's voice came back, all-business once more. " _Are those helmets of yours capable of filtering out Scarecrow's toxin?_ "

"It did the last time we met him," Harry said. "They basically do what's called a Bubble-Head Charm, replenishing oxygen in an environment without it."

" _One of you should guard the doctors and Gordon_ ," Batman said. " _The other should go deal with Scarecrow, as well as find Bane and, if possible, release him, or at least make sure he's secure and out of the Joker's reach. I will head to this covert laboratory they used to make Titan and get rid of it. Whoever intends to stop Crane, be careful. Even if he can't gas you, he may still inject you with his fear toxin, he's been known to do so._ "

"I'll do it," Harry said. "Luna, look after the others. It's about time I did something proactive."

"Gotcha. Harry, be careful," Luna said.

* * *

Harry, on Barbara's advice, snuck into the elevator shaft rather than using the elevator proper, just in case the Joker had any nasty tricks in store. He also sealed the helmet completely, reliant on the Bubble-Head Charm to keep out Scarecrow's fear toxin. His breath echoed eerily in his helmet as he opened the lift doors, and came across bedlam.

Behind a glass window, he saw inmates and guards writhing in agony, flailing against unseen foes. And amongst them was a frightening figure, thin, lanky, dressed in burlap, with a hangman's noose around his neck like a bizarre necktie. He had a hood and mask that looked like a crude scarecrow's head, albeit with nozzles of a gasmask protruding from it. On one hand was a Freddy Krueger-like array of needles, filled with a sickly, glowing liquid.

The grotesque figure of Jonathan Crane, aka the Scarecrow, noticed Harry. "Well, well, well, if it isn't Yang," he sneered mockingly. "Did Yin dump you?"

"Crane, isn't that projection?" Harry said, as a jibe at the former psychologist and psychiatrist. "You're projecting so hard, it's in 3D with Dolby surround sound. No wonder you enjoy inflicting suffering on other people."

"Take off that helmet and say that!" Crane snarled.

"Yeah, no, I'm not an idiot," Harry said, before Apparating right behind Scarecrow. A quick Body-Bind spell sent Scarecrow crashing to the floor, with more of them sending the crazed inmates and guards to the floor afterwards. He then stripped Scarecrow of his syringe-glove, before destroying it with a spell. "Compared to Boggarts, Crane, you're a rank amateur when it comes to instilling fears in people." He then looked around the room, and began drawing runes on the walls. Until Harry or Luna erased them, only Harry or Luna could get in or out of this room, unless they took people with them. It wouldn't last more than a day or so, and hopefully, that was all they needed. It was a stopgap measure.

* * *

Harry Apparated between the area where Luna was guarding Gordon and the others, ferrying the guards who had been affected by Scarecrow's fear toxin. Batman would come with an antidote later. Once he was done, he made his way through the lower floors of the Medical Facility, making his way to the experimental chamber Young had spoken of.

" _So, we have a snarky do-gooder here?_ " Joker's voiced jeered mockingly Harry entered, speaking from a TV screen. " _Hafta say, you're more entertaining than Bats at times. Oh, I love the fear he instils in my men, but you, you can backchat better than he can. You and your lovely Yin. Still, I hafta say, you're spoiling my party plans._ "

"What can I say?" Harry said. "I'm a party pooper. Anyway, Scarecrow's not the sort of person you'd invite to a party. People prefer unspiked drinks."

" _Ah, but that's so_ _ **boring!**_ " Joker retorted. " _Seriously, having Batman as Party Pooper One is bad enough, but you and Yin spoil it_."

"Bite me. Anyway, this party needs a clown, one who isn't a homicidal maniac." Harry grinned behind his helmet as an impish notion occurred to him. "Hey, does the Creeper do parties?"

The torrent of expletives the Joker unleashed was quite impressive, as Harry looked at the chamber below. There were convicts acting as guards everywhere. Harry Apparated in, knowing the noise of the Apparition would alert them, and he sent Stunners and Body-Binds at them. Within a minute, the guards were down, and Harry went for the chamber where Bane was kept.

The moment Harry saw the figure, attached to the tubes, he didn't waste any time. Doctor Young had said it was possible for Bane to be flooded with Titan via the system, so he cut the tubes with Snape's _Sectumsempra_ , automatic safety valves preventing Bane from bleeding out into them.

Bane fell heavily onto the floor, groaning, while Harry gently turned him over. While the man's muscles were defined, it was as if he had something literally sucked out of him. He wasn't the muscled, hulking powerhouse that Batman encountered before: indeed, the only sign that this was Bane was the distinctive mask, like the _lucha libre_ mask of Mexican _luchadores_.

Harry had to admit, he actually felt a little sympathy for Bane. Not much: the man had been ruthless when he first fought the Batman, utterly ruthless and without morals, given what Barbara and Bruce had told them. But Bane had been condemned to the hellish prison of Peña Dura before he was born for a crime his father had committed: namely trying to overthrow the government of Santa Prisca. He was raised in the prison, and Harry, having spent ten of the first eleven years of his life with a cupboard for a bedroom, sympathised. Bane only escaped after being used for experiments on creating super-soldiers, using Venom to enhance them.

However, Bane was also one of the assassins who accepted Black Mask's reward to kill Batman. Bane himself, reportedly, had been haunted by images of a monstrous bat since childhood, and viewed defeating Batman as a form of catharsis. In the process, however, Bane learned Batman's true identity, and beat Alfred to the edge of death, Batman barely saving him. Bane and Joker collaborated to try and force Batman into taking Bane's life, or else the Joker would die. Batman managed to outwit their macabre little game, and when Bane tried to use a variation of Venom called TN-1 to beat Batman, the resulting battle and trauma caused Bane to forget that Batman was Bruce Wayne, thankfully.

The man himself groaned in pain on the floor, too weak to even so much as sit up. " _Hijo de la chingada_ , I have such a headache," he moaned, his eyes flickering open. "Who are you? You're not the Batman."

"Call me Yang," Harry said. "You may have heard of me."

Bane coughed, and rasped, "Of course. The _bruja_ and the _payaso_ spoke of you."

" _Bruja?_ "

"Witch. I mean Doctor Young," Bane said, scowling.

"Oh. Well, technically, I'm a wizard, and Yin is a witch, so…yeah. Doctor Young will be held to account, Gordon's already been told about her, as has the Batman. We know about her using your blood to create Titan."

Bane nodded, closing his eyes in pain. "Normally, I would not be so glad to go back to Blackgate, but the time I spent here showed there are even worse places than Peña Dura, and not just in the fires of perdition."

"Believe me, you haven't felt pain unless you've experienced the Cruciatus Curse," Harry muttered, before taking Bane by Apparition to Gordon and the others…

* * *

The Joker paced around the room in annoyance. While he had calculated for Batman to try and cause problems with his plans, he hadn't counted on Yin and Yang. Having one goody two-shoes hero messing things up was problematic enough, but he could deal with that. Three, on the other hand, well, as much as he liked Yang's snark, they were causing too much trouble. Crane was down for the count, Bane was removed from his harness before Joker could flood his system with Titan, and his little toy Robin had been stolen from him.

But who could he count on to try and hamper the three would-be heroes? Scarecrow and Bane were out. Harley was busy guarding Sharpie, Killer Croc was lurking in the sewers…

Suddenly, Joker realised something. True, it would be a bit of a risk, and he wasn't exactly on the party list, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Magic they may have, but that wouldn't matter much when they couldn't tell friend from foe.

Joker cackled to himself, rubbing his hands together with unholy glee. It was time, he thought, to spring Basil Karlo from his cell. It was time for Clayface to have a part in these proceedings…

 **CHAPTER 6 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Sorry about the wait for a new chapter (and it may be a while before the next one: sorry). I'm surprised at how quickly this story became popular. Not quite as much as my other Batman crossover,** ** _Verdant Magic_** **, but I also didn't quite have enough of an idea where to go next. I thought this story would have Harry and Luna being a bit too awesome, but then, as this chapter came to a close and I had to think of a fresh obstacle to throw in their way, well, I think Clayface (who is in** ** _Batman: Arkham Asylum_** **, just in a cell) is a good idea.**

 **Review-answering time!** **Guest** **(regarding Batman/Bruce Wayne's faults): I'm pretty sure Bruce Wayne heads up a lot of charities and actual political drives and campaigns to better the lot of Gotham. He does more than beat the crap out of criminals.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	90. Knight and Sorceress Reborn Chapter 1

**Well, this is something of an oddity. This was an idea originally derived from my pure _Final Fantasy VIII_ fic, _La Vita Nuova_ (and eagle-eyed readers will note that I copied and pasted a lot from that story, along with _Anchor of Ultimecia_ ). What happened was that long-time reader DalkonCledwin wanted to do their own take on the story, but after they couldn't get it going, they formulated a challenge which, with their permission, I posted on DZ2 and whitetigerwolf's challenge forums.**

 **I decided to try my hand at the challenge because I wanted to try my hand at doing a Haphne (Harry Potter/Daphne Greengrass) fic. Let's face it, Daphne Greengrass is one of those background characters in the series ripe for development, and while I prefer doing Harmony or Luna-shipping (or Lunar Harmony), I'm not averse to trying new things if it interests me. Doing a pure Potterverse fic with Haphne didn't appeal to me, frankly. But I eventually decided to give the challenge a go. In a way, it's revisiting one of my old, abandoned stories, and giving it new life.**

 **Incidentally, I am posting this in both _The Cauldron_ and my _Final Fantasy_ fic compilation _Final Fantasy Files_. Have fun...**

* * *

 _ **KNIGHT AND SORCERESS REBORN**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **REBORN**

Ultimecia had never had the luxury of a proper childhood. SeeD's persecution murdered her childhood as effectively as they wished to murder her. They had embarked on their pogroms with little heed to what pain they caused others. They had even robbed her of her first and only Knight, Ramza(1).

Which was why Ultimecia was embarking on the beginnings of an audacious plan. To compress time, bring the power of all Sorceresses in history into herself, along with all of time and space, and rule as a Goddess over all creation, denying existence to all who would do her harm. Which, to her mind, meant all of humanity in general, and SeeD in particular. She didn't care whether she was Goddess over an empty and small universe, as long as she didn't have to feel pain anymore. As long as she had the power to decide her own fate.

As part of her plan, she had obtained a Junction Machine Ellone device, a device that could send her consciousness back in time. Amongst other things, she needed to find the very girl that the machine was named for, the girl who possessed the same powers, who would be key to her plan.

Ultimecia never considered the fact that her plan, borne out of hurt and desperation that twisted her heart and soul into the most extreme misanthropy, would in fact perpetuate a cycle that would bring the very persecution she attempted to halt into existence. She would have dismissed the possibility out of hand: it was not she who was the author of her own persecution, but the SeeDs.

In a perverse way, though she would never know it, she was right. Memories and well-meant warnings about Ultimecia twisted and distorted, and along with it, the mission and ethos of SeeD. The well-intentioned dream of Cid and Edea Kramer, embodied by Squall Leonhart and his friends, was twisted into fanatical hatred. The Kramers, Leonhart, and his friends were all but deified, and Sorceresses, save for Edea and Rinoa, were demonised. The creed of SeeD became like a religion, and not of a kind and moral sort, but of fanaticism and blinkeredness and hatred, determined to stop Ultimecia from emerging by any means necessary. It took centuries to happen, but it still did.

Once, Ultimecia loathed her powers. Now, she embraced them. And why shouldn't she? Power was all she had left. Not love, not friendship, and not acceptance. All of those had been dangled in front of her, and torn ruthlessly away.

Ultimecia took the Junction Machine Ellone into her art gallery. It was a risk, given that SeeDs tried daily to infiltrate her castle and murder her. But she wanted to be surrounded by her beloved artwork, and trusted to her monstrous minion Trauma to protect her if she was attacked.

Sadly, it was a mistake. As she used the machine to project her consciousness centuries into the past, looking for potential candidates to control, SeeD mercenaries broke in. Trauma fought valiantly, but was unable to save his mistress when one SeeD managed to shoot her, while her consciousness was still in the past.

As Ultimecia slumped, blood drooling from her mouth, her chest a crimson ruin that matched her habitual crimson robe, cries of elation erupted from the SeeDs, and a cry of woe erupted from Trauma. Sorceress Ultimecia was dead! The world, past and present, was safe!

That may have been true, save for the fact that killing someone while their consciousness was junctioned to someone in the past had unforeseen consequences. At the time, Ultimecia was searching for Edea Kramer, whom she thought was uniquely placed to start her plan. However, the bullets that had robbed her of her life had also hit the machine. Her consciousness was sent not back or forth in time…but sideways.

But as Ultimecia was torn away from her body, screaming as she was sucked into a foetus, she never knew she was going to get a chance the child, and herself, never got. A childhood. A gift of immeasurable value.

She didn't know it, but fate would conspire to give her an even greater gift: her lover and knight would be reborn too. And they would be brought together once more…

* * *

Daphne Greengrass was a strange child, to say the least. When she was born, Lord Cyrus Greengrass almost immediately demanded a paternity test. He had believed his wife to have had an affair, and even when the paternity test came up in his favour (that is, he was indisputably the father of Daphne), their relationship was strained for some months afterwards, not helped by the demands of parenthood.

Of course, it wasn't without reason that he had such suspicion. His daughter had been born with silvery hair, far more different than the blonde of his lineage. And her eyes had a distinctive baleful ring of gold around the pupil, in the centre of pale blue irises. After several more paternity tests, and the doctors putting the strange features to a random mutation, Cyrus Greengrass reluctantly accepted the girl as his own.

Daphne was often a quiet, pensive, even sullen child. Not actually spoilt, but she seemed preoccupied at times, and sometimes lost her temper at the oddest of stimuli. That being said, she seemed at her happiest around her mother, as well as at play. She liked going to the theatre and to operas and to art galleries, and she seemed to love that. And her parents did try to indulge her. Not so often as to spoil her. Oddly enough, she didn't actually throw that many temper tantrums when she didn't get her own way, and even bore some refusals with a sort of adult resignation. It was merely some pet peeves that ignited her temper, not a lack of indulgence.

She also seemed obsessed with horology, even having a minor hobby collecting clocks and watches. It was as if she was obsessed with time, making sure she could use it to her own advantage. Punctuality certainly was something she was obsessed with, as if she wanted every second to count.

And then, there were the nightmares. Nightmares that sometimes had her bolt upright in bed, screaming. Nightmares she refused to speak of.

And then, after third year, Daphne had come back changed. Whether it was for better or for worse, few could tell…

* * *

 _The girl ran through the rain, trying not to slip on the slick ground. Tears ran from her eyes, mingling with the rain, the irises a baleful gold, showing hurt and betrayal and anger and fear. Long silver hair framed her face, which had strange markings not unlike tattoos. Yet despite the oddities of her appearance, she was actually quite beautiful, though she was clearly in her mid-teens. Her black jacket over a red shirt and jeans was the only thing keeping the rain off her form, and it wasn't doing it very well. Her hands had talon-like nails, and her feet, exposed to the elements, were bestial paws. A pair of black feathered wings protruded from her back, sodden in the weather._

 _She had just been betrayed by her best friend, or rather, someone she had thought a best friend. Her second Knight, who had come after her first, Ramza, had been murdered by SeeD. But Delita turned out to be a SeeD agent in disguise._

 _Suddenly, a burning pain in her leg, followed shortly thereafter by the report of a gun. The girl screamed in agony as she fell, skidding to a halt, her face scraping painfully along the ground. With a whimper of pain, she rolled onto her back, and gathered her concentration to heal the bullet wound in her leg. It was hard to do: something in the bullet was sapping her magic, but she barely managed to heal the wound._

 _But even as she did so, someone, followed by a dozen others, appeared, surrounding her. Standing over her was Delita, looking down at her with a contemptuous sneer. His handsome face was marred by the utter disdain on his face. "Well, looky here. We finally have the Sorceress right where we want her."_

 _"Delita…" the Sorceress moaned. "Why? I…trusted you."_

 _"Then it only goes to show you were a stupid little bitch!" Delita sneered. "Then again, you were on the rebound after I iced Ramza. Oh yes, that was me." He petted the long, phallic-substitute rifle he was holding like it was an animal. "The ultimate in anti-Sorceress weaponry, courtesy of the Odine Corporation. That's why your filthy Sorceress powers aren't working. That's why I'm better than that fame-hungry shit Leonhart! I don't have a famous name to fall back on like that attention-seeking brat! But I have brains, and I have the guts to do what is necessary!"_

 _"But what have I done wrong?!" the Sorceress demanded. "What in Hyne's name have I done to deserve this? Everyone speaks of a Sorceress from the future, but what does that have to do with me?"_

 _"Sorceresses are an abomination upon the world anyway, the last remnants of an evil and twisted god," Delita spat. "Besides, you match the description of the Sorceress we must destroy. You even have a twisted version of her name…don't you, Artemisia_ _3_ _? But I know you are truly Ultimecia. For the future, and for the past, you must die!"_

 _Artemisia, for that was the name her mother gave her, before SeeD slaughtered her family, glared. "Curse you all," she snarled. "I will NOT die here today!" Calling upon as much of her power as she could, she sent them flying. But even as they sprawled on the ground, she knew that it may not be enough._

Please…if the Great Hyne, or any deity watching from above has any inkling of mercy…please…I need help. Send me a Knight, a new Knight, a true Knight _… She prayed with all her might, not knowing if it would be answered._

 _But nobody came…_

* * *

Daphne sat bolt upright, struggling not to scream. She had tried to avoid doing that whenever she had the nightmares, of being a Sorceress named Ultimecia, pursued by SeeD just for existing. But sometimes, despite her attempts to stop doing so for her family's sake (or her dorm-mates, whenever she was at Hogwarts), she couldn't help it. She had gotten around this by using a special ward to muffle noises around her bed.

The teenager shook the last remnants of the nightmare from her mind. It felt too real to be merely a nightmare, but even so, that's what it remained. No belligerent SeeDs stood around her bed, ready to skewer her, burn her to ashes and salt her remains.

Then, she remembered. It was no nightmare. It was a memory.

The first time Daphne became aware that her nightmares were memories were when those damned Dementors were posted around Hogwarts, thanks to that moron Fudge overreacting to Sirius Black's escape. After all, the Dementors only fed on worst memories, not nightmares. Boggarts fed on worst fears, ridiculous or not.

That being said, it wasn't until the holidays after her third year that Daphne came to an epiphany about those memories. And that was because she had begun to discover powers. Powers beyond that of another wizard or witch. True, the ability to pluck any memory she chose from someone's mind could have been an unusually powerful talent of Legilimency. But the ability to slow, or even stop, time? And with ridiculous ease? Well, that was NOT a normal talent. And yet, Ultimecia had it. And so too did Daphne.

What was more, she began to be able to use spells beyond those known in Magical Britain, or indeed anywhere on Earth. Mostly offensive spells, but there were healing spells as well. From the simplest Fire spell all the way up to Apocalypse. She could use them all.

But for what?

Daphne was still pondering this as she got up from her bed. Her father had obtained tickets to the Quidditch World Cup, and had insisted on bringing her along. Quidditch bored her. But she was obligated to make appearances with her father at certain public gatherings. All for the sake of appearances.

Daphne sighed quietly as she went to have a shower and get dressed. She needed a Knight, soon, she knew. A Knight acted to protect a Sorceress from all dangers. Even if, ultimately, she herself is that very danger, if she ever succumbed to evil, so the Knight must end her life. Frequently, they were consorts and lovers. In times of yore, the life of a Knight was seen as a glamorous, even romantic one. But in her time back on her old world, thanks to the accursed SeeDs, Knights were seen as traitors to humanity.

But even as she vowed never to try and find a Knight, not after Delita's treachery, part of her now yearned for it. Though it would be too much to hope for another Ramza.

" _You never know_."

The voice was deep and resonant. Daphne resisted the urge to jump in the air, but she whirled upon the source of the voice, thankful she had finished dressing. There was a man standing in the corner of her bedroom, tall, thin, with dark hair and piercing ice-blue eyes. "Who are you?" she demanded. "How did you get here?!"

" _Come now, Daphne Greengrass…or should I say, Artemisia? While it is somewhat much to expect you to know who I am on sight…you are one of my descendants. I am Hyne._ "

Daphne blinked in astonishment. "Hyne?"

" _Indeed. The progenitor of Sorceresses_ ," the man claiming to be Hyne said. " _The people of your world, Mondas, wondered where I went. Admittedly, the legends that sprang up around me after my disappearance were…false. While I am a deity, I am not a creator deity. However, I was nearly forced to give some of my power to humanity. I merely gave it to the Sorceresses…and what a mess I made when it all went wrong._ " Hyne sighed quietly. " _In a way, your departure from Mondas was for the best. The time loop you and the SeeDs were caught up in has been broken. No longer will the Sorceresses of Mondas be persecuted, not to the degree that they were._ "

"Am I supposed to be glad about that?" Daphne asked sharply.

" _I suppose not, my descendant. But when I saw what happened, of your being pulled into this world…I made an intercession with the goddess of death, to grant you a boon. Your Knight, your first, true Knight, has been reborn on this world._ "

Now, that was something of a shock. Ramza had been reborn? She couldn't dare hope that it was true. "And how can I find him?" she asked archly.

Hyne smiled thinly. " _You'll see him soon enough. In a way, he has been right under your nose for a long time. The Dementors also unlocked his memories, memories he is only now coming to terms with._ "

"Don't be coy! For all I know, you are merely a hallucination of my mind, engaged in wishful thinking! Tell me his name."

She half-expected Hyne to rail against her, or something along those lines. She never expected tenebrous rumbles of amusement. " _As you wish. But you will find it somewhat unbelievable._ "

"I don't care. What is his name?"

Hyne smirked. And then he declared an impossible name, a name that shouldn't have been the reincarnation of her beloved Ramza. And yet, when she came to think of it later, it was so obvious in hindsight. It couldn't have been anyone else. But now, she couldn't believe the four syllables Hyne spoke. Syllables that would turn her world, and that of Magical Britain, upside down.

" _Harry Potter._ "

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Well, there's a turn-up for the books, isn't it?**

 **Now, a lot of this chapter, as some eagle-eyed readers will have noted, has been copied and pasted from** ** _La Vita Nuova_** **, along with an extract from** ** _Anchor of Ultimecia_** **. Many of the concepts I am using in this story have been recycled from those two stories, along with my other Potterverse crossovers with** ** _Final Fantasy VIII_** **:** ** _Ultimecia's Knight_** **, and** ** _Mnemosyne's Son_** **. Mondas is my fanon name for the world of** ** _Final Fantasy VIII_** **(a naughty little nod to the Cybermen's original homeworld from** ** _Doctor Who_** **, and a derivation of mundas, a Latin name for the world), and we'll see more as the fic goes by.**

 **Incidentally, Hyne's appearance and voice is based on Benedict Cumberbatch's.**

 **1\. Ramza (and later in the chapter, Delita) were named for the characters from** ** _Final Fantasy Tactics_** **. I used those names for** ** _Anchor of Ultimecia_** **.**


	91. X-Celsior (Original version) Chapter 1

**This story will seem awfully familiar to those who have read _Wings of the Forsaken_. Which is hardly surprising, as it takes a number of cues and story elements from it, though the main inspiration is the 'Cook' challenge by whitetigerwolf. It also marks my first attempt at a crossover with _X-Men_ , albeit one that is only loosely based on the comics continuity. It's basically a Harry/Rogue/Kitty Pryde/X-23 harem. Anyway, enjoy.  
**

 **EDIT (June 5, 2017): After some thought, I decided to change the pairing. Instead of Kitty Pryde, I decided to use a younger version of Vanessa Carlysle, aka Copycat from _X-Force_ and _Deadpool_. The first two chapters of that version will be up later...**

* * *

 _ **X-CELSIOR (ORIGINAL VERSION)  
**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **X-CELSIOR**

The mansion had been supposedly abandoned long ago, little more than a corpse building. The locals shunned it, due to rumour and superstition. In recent times, that probably saved their lives.

After all, the building was far from abandoned now.

A trio of girls in their late teens approached the building carefully. All wore dark uniforms with a logo on them: an 'X' made up of a crossed sword and staff. They may have been in costume, and this was Halloween, but they weren't Trick or Treating.

As they halted, near the entrance, one of their number spoke in her mind, heard by the others. _Shadowcat to Operator. Do you copy?_

 _Loud and clear, Shadowcat. I can see you're in position. Rogue, Talon, you copy?_

 _Of course, we copy_ , Rogue, a brown-haired girl with white streaks, responded with a roll of her eyes.

 _We copy_ , the one called Talon(1) added, perhaps redundantly. _Status on targets, Operator?_

 _Unchanged. Luckily for us, this variation on the U-Men(_ _2)_ _does its operations in a hidden location than on the move. Pixie's helping us with intel by letting me look through her eyes. Unfortunately, we've only an hour before they begin operating on the children they captured. And given the U-Men's training against psychic abilities, I'd have to let loose, and as my aunt has shown, that's a touch on the dangerous side_.

The one called Talon scoffed mentally. _And in other breaking news, the ocean is wet._

 _So, the plan isn't changed?_ Shadowcat asked.

 _No. Rogue snogs you, gets your powers, and can help with the evac. Don't forget, we've got two sets of Portkeys. One brings them straight back here to X-Celsior HQ, the other dumps them in the offices of the local DMLE. The former's for the kidnapped students, and are green, the latter's for the U-Men, and are in red. Talon, you're specifically on disarming the U-Men. Don't kill them unless it's absolutely necessary. The Aurors will deal with them_.

Talon nodded. _I've got the drill_. Then, with a 'snikt' noise, a pair of metal claws slid their way out of her gloves. A claw each poked out of her boots. The one called Rogue gently kissed Shadowcat, the latter blinking and looking like she was trying to stay awake for a time even after the kiss ended. Then, the two took Talon by the hand, and they charged down into the very ground itself, as if they were little more than ghosts…

* * *

Some way away, in a control room, a grizzled-looking man with wild hair watched a bank of screens, nodding approvingly. By his side, a red-haired woman with emerald eyes looked on, a little anxiously. "Looks like the operation's begun," the woman said quietly.

"Yeah. Hank and Remus are on standby, and Moira's on the phone, just in case," the man said.

"You're not worried about Laura?"

The man scoffed. "I'm more worried about Kitty and Anna than Laura. And I know they'll be fine. It's the kids those bastards kidnapped I'm worried about. That, and the fact that Chuck's keeping a close eye on X-Celsior. Especially given that your son's part of it."

"Worried about his powers, as usual," the woman sighed, looking pointedly at a coffin-like apparatus behind them. "And we're still making little progress, despite the Professor and Jean's training. He's frustrated by it. He wants to be out in the field, helping the others, rather than playing mission control." She then smirked. "Then again, he can't complain about the perks."

The man chuckled quietly. "I can't exactly complain myself. I once had something of a coterie myself. I'm still surprised you allow him to be with all those girls."

"I know my son, better than maybe anyone," the woman said. "I wouldn't indulge him if I didn't know he loved them all, including your daughter. And they are willing to work with it. In any case, they work very well together as a team."

Before anything further on the matter could be said, a blue, simian face appeared on it, the eyes in the bestial face nonetheless glittering with intelligence. " _Logan, Lily, we've received all of those imprisoned. First impressions suggest they are alive and relatively well, though they are understandably shaken by their ordeal. Thankfully, none of the U-Men got around to vivisecting them and stealing their organs._ "

"Good," Lily said, nodding.

"Anything else, Hank?" the man called Logan asked.

" _Not yet. I suppose if any of the ladies were hurt, we'd know about it from your son, Lily_ ," Hank McCoy, better known by his _nom de guerre_ of 'Beast', said. " _They're protective of each other. Ah, that must be the local DMLE._ "

Another screen lit up, showing a rather harassed and harried-looking young woman. " _This is Auror Graves_ ," said the woman. " _I have just received a batch of idiots in the designated holding cells. Intact, for once, except for a few that looked like they annoyed Talon. We'll be contacting SHIELD before long. I'll need a full report on this ASAP. Are the kids okay?_ "

"As far as we know. You're looking a bit frazzled, Medea," Lily remarked. "Are you okay?"

" _Not really_ ," Medea Graves(3) said, running a hand through her hair. " _Between the latest BS that the Skrulls tried to pull at the Baxter Building, Stark pilfering one of our best Unspeakables for R &D, and having to talk to Murdock about the upcoming trials we're holding, we're stretched pretty thin._"

"Ouch," Lily muttered, wincing. "And the dispute with Doctor Strange?"

" _Still at a stalemate_ ," Grave said with a roll of her eyes. " _I'm the one stuck being messenger girl between the DMLE and the Sanctum Sanctorum after my boss got caught between Strange and Mordo. You know how MACUSA and your Ministry back home feels about the Kamar-Taj._ "

"And that's without going into Wanda and her magic," Logan muttered.

" _Exactly. At least this operation of X-Celsior has gone off well. But like I said, I need a report ASAP. Preferably tomorrow. So debrief them, and send it to me by email. I'll print it off and make like it's come via owl post. Graves out._ "

As she disappeared from the screen, there was a sudden whoosh from behind them, and they turned to find a trio of girls in their late teens, each holding a coin in their hand. "Ugh, I hate travellin' via Portkey," slurred Rogue, as she swayed. Her voice had a soft Southern accent.

"You say that all the time, Anna," Talon, aka Laura Howlett-Kinney sighed. "You can fly without trouble. Why can't you absorb an immunity to Portkey travel?"

"I don't think it's a superpower," Rogue, aka Anna Marie, muttered. "And Kitty don't get affected by it as much, and yet, I'm still feelin' like crap."

"Well, every superhero has their weakness, right?" Shadowcat, aka Kitty Pryde, remarked with a shrug. Anna merely glared at her. "Is everyone all right?"

"Hank says that they seem all right," Lily said. "They're running checks now."

"Mission accomplished, then," Laura said. "So, is he coming out?"

As if in answer to her question, the coffin-like apparatus opened, and a boy in his late teens sat up, coughing and choking out the liquid he had just been breathing. His lean, athletic body was clad in a black skinsuit that left little to the imagination. His messy black hair was plastered by the liquid he had been immersed in over his head. Irritably, he wiped his fringe away from his eyes, revealing emerald eyes, much like Lily's, and a lightning bolt-like scar on his forehead.

Gingerly, he stood up in the coffin-like tank, and stepped out. "Well," he remarked, "that went very well. Still wish we went Trick-or-Treating, though. How did we do, Dad?"

Logan snorted. They weren't related by any means, but the two had a slight paternal-filial relationship, especially now that the boy was a lover of his daughter. Well, Laura was actually an opposite-sex clone, but Logan treated her as a daughter. Well, now he did, after a rocky beginning. "Cheeky brat," Logan growled good-naturedly. "You did well. Chuck ought to be fine with it. X-Celsior's never going to get the more dangerous missions X-Force will undertake, but you work well for missions like this."

Lily nodded. "I know you wish to be with them when they do these missions, darling, but…"

"I know, my power," the boy said morosely. "At least Aunt Jean has the excuse of the Phoenix Force, and the DMLE gets a bit iffy about magic being exposed on top of superpowers, Doctor Strange and Wanda aside. But…"

"Just keep training, kid," Logan said. "I know, it's easy for me to say that. But you're like your aunt and your mother. You're a strong kid. Look at it this way. Five years ago, you'd never have had any restraints off your power. Now, you're down to four levels left. Out of seven."

"Okay, Dad, but don't forget my name in your old age," the boy said cheekily. "It's Harry, remember? Or should I write it down on the back of your hand to remind you?"

Logan scoffed, clenching a fist, a trio of claws sliding out with a distinctive 'snikt' sound. "Wanna say that again, bub?"

It was part of the banter between adopted father and son. Lily rolled her eyes and said, "Put those away, Logan." She looked at Harry and the three girls. "We'll do a quick debrief. Graves wants a report with her ASAP. I'm still surprised a Pureblood like her uses a laptop. MACUSA's not much different from Britain when it comes to adopting technology. Anyway, after this debrief, you guys can go to bed."

The quartet of teenagers nodded. It had been a long night, and they intended to get some rest as soon as possible…

* * *

The next morning, in a bedroom elsewhere in the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning, a quartet of figures were snuggled up in bed around each other. Save for one of them, they were entirely naked, with Anna being dressed in a sheer bodystocking that nonetheless pretty much showed everything. After all, her powers worked on physical contact, and she had gotten used to wearing covering clothing, even if it did show some skin.

In any case, the quartet in this room were the main members of the newest offshoot of the X-Men, X-Celsior. Kitty Pryde, aka Shadowcat, born with the ability to phase through matter, and grant those she held the same ability. Anna Marie, aka Rogue, cursed with the ability to absorb the powers, memories, and lifeforce of those she came into physical contact with. Laura Howlett-Kinney, once known as X-23, now Talon, the clone daughter of Logan, aka James Howlett, aka the Wolverine, sharing his healing factor and bone claws.

And Harry Evans, born as Harry Potter. The true Boy Who Lived, but whose Mutant abilities (awakened at a much earlier age than normal) would see him shunned by most in Magical Britain, not least his own father and his younger brother William. Abilities that had saved him and his family from Voldemort. His mother and a family friend, Remus Lupin, had been forced to flee with Harry to the US shortly afterwards, finding sanctuary at the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning.

It hurt Lily Evans to be forced to flee her own husband, and leave her second child behind. But the courts were ruinous in the Wizengamot, prejudiced against Muggleborns and Halfbloods, and Mutants most of all. Lily herself had a mutation, one she had hidden, a mild telepathic ability that seemed amplified in her younger half-sister, Jean Grey, and her son. An ability that had been kept at bay by potions during her school years.

Harry had grown up within the halls of the X-Mansion, trained and educated by the founding members of the X-Men. His power was extremely hard to control, making Jean Grey's difficulties pale by comparison. Even now, he had many restraints placed on his psychic power, albeit at his own request, by his aunt and Professor Charles Xavier. He still underwent training, both physically and for his powers. He became friends with a number of his fellow Mutants. Not all of them, of course, but he certainly had a large circle of friends and family in either blood or concept.

That he had obtained one lover was a bit unexpected. To obtain three who were willing to share was astonishing, even uncanny. And yet, it had happened. Okay, it had been rocky at times, but these four trusted each other to the ends of the Earth.

They stirred, and Harry gave each of them a morning kiss. He didn't even hesitate when it came to Anna, despite her powers. He had a mild immunity to them, enough that physical intimacy was merely draining instead of life-threatening. Plus, she helped siphon off the excess power from his psychic abilities, so she was almost psychic herself.

As he finished, though, they all heard a voice in their heads. _Sorry, lovebirds, but there'll be no time to play this morning_ , came the familiar voice of Harry's aunt, Jean Grey. Beneath the facile tone of Jean's voice was a more serious undertone. _Something's come up._

 _What's come up, Aunt Jean?_ Harry responded.

 _We'd best explain it in Charles' office_ , she said. _We've got Dumbledore, plus a trio of idiots from the British Ministry waiting, along with some Aurors_ …

Dumbledore. A grandfather figure in Harry's life. The headmaster of Hogwarts, and one of the few people from Lily and Remus' pasts who deigned to visit. Harry liked the old codger, though not his taste in clothes. _Which idiots, Aunty?_

 _Well, there's this horrendous woman in a pink cardigan by the name of Umbridge and who hasn't got a single tactful or respectful bone in her body…and I could swear she's Mortimer Toynbee's more evil cousin. She looks more toad-like than he does. There's this anal-retentive type who looks like J Jonah Jameson turned into a bureaucrat called Barty Crouch. And there's a former Quidditch star called Ludo Bagman, and he's looking more punch-drunk than someone who's gone toe-to-toe with the Hulk._

 _So what's the problem?_ Laura asked.

 _They claim that Harry has been entered in the Tri-Wizard Tournament at Hogwarts. And you are bound by magical contract to participate, Harry, or forfeit your magic, and perhaps your life_ …

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, the beginning of a new story. It took quite a bit of thought to decide on a team name for Harry's team. I found out that 'Excelsior' was originally used for a young superhero support group that was changed into the Loners, partly because apparently Stan Lee has a trademark on the phrase. I decided to use it as a variation on the various 'X'-themed teams in** ** _X-Men_** **.**

 **Now, this story, broadly speaking, will be similar in many ways to my previous WBWL harem story,** ** _Wings of the Forsaken_** **. Unlike that story, James and Sirius, while they will be bashed fairly heavily, are not as overtly villainous. Here, they are bigoted arsewipes, but not murderous. In order to avoid confusion with Charles Xavier, I'm changing the usual name I use for the WBWL, Charles, to William. Why? Because immediately before Henry the First of England, there was William the Second.**

 **Incidentally, Harry, Anna (or Rogue if you prefer), Laura and Kitty are all 19 here. Not exactly the same age, but the same amount of years old.**

 **1\. I chose Talon because X-23 sounded like too much of a reminder of Laura's past, while Talon, which was apparently an alias Laura had used before, sounds appropriate.**

 **2\. For those of you more familiar with the films or TV series than the comics, the U-Men, who first appeared in Grant Morrison's run on the comics, were a cult-like organisation who killed mutants, stole their organs, and grafted it onto themselves. They ran around in self-contained life-support suits.**

 **3\. Medea Graves is an OC, but she's meant to be a descendant of Percival Graves, from the film** ** _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_** **. And yes, I'm aware that he was impersonated in the film. I'm assuming that this is a descendant from before his impersonation.**


	92. X-Celsior (Revised version) Chapter 1

**I decided to revise _X-Celsior_ somewhat. Part of the reason for my discontent was Kitty Pryde, aka Shadowcat. While admittedly my knowledge of some of the X-Men is a bit sketchy, I thought Kitty had a bit less baggage than many of the others, and I wanted Harry to draw to him lovers who had a shadowed past in some way. And while her abilities make her a good infiltration person for the X-Celsior group, I eventually decided on someone else who might have had issues.  
**

 **I decided on Vanessa Carlysle, aka Copycat, albeit a version who was about Harry's age. While she wasn't a teenaged prostitute like she was in Earth-616, she still has some issues. Kitty will still be a character in this story, just not as part of Harry's harem.**

 **Speaking of, though this shouldn't even need to be said, this is definitely NOT Earth-616. It's basically a hodgepodge of elements from across Marvel continuity.**

* * *

 _ **X-CELSIOR (REVISED VERSION)**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **X-CELSIOR**

The mansion had been supposedly abandoned long ago, little more than a corpse building. The locals shunned it, due to rumour and superstition. In recent times, that probably saved their lives.

After all, the building was far from abandoned now.

A trio of girls in their late teens approached the building carefully. All wore dark uniforms with a logo on them: an 'X' made up of a crossed sword and staff. They may have been in costume, and this was Halloween, but they weren't Trick or Treating.

As they halted, near the entrance, one of their number spoke in her mind, heard by the others. She had blue skin and a shock of white hair, pointed elf-like ears, and red irises glinting within the black sclera of her eyes. _Copycat to Operator. Do you copy?_

 _Loud and clear, Copycat. I can see you're in position. Rogue, Talon, you copy?_

 _Of course, we copy_ , Rogue, a brown-haired girl with white streaks, responded with a roll of her eyes.

 _We copy_ , the one called Talon(1) added, perhaps redundantly. _Status on targets, Operator?_

 _Unchanged. Luckily for us, this variation on the U-Men(_ _2)_ _does its operations in a hidden location than on the move. Pixie's helping us with intel by letting me look through her eyes. Unfortunately, we've only an hour before they begin operating on the children they captured. And given the U-Men's training against psychic abilities, I'd have to let loose, and as my aunt has shown, that's a touch on the dangerous side_.

The one called Talon scoffed mentally. _And in other breaking news, the ocean is wet._

 _So, the plan isn't changed?_ Copycat asked.

 _No. Rogue snogs you, gets your powers, and can help with the infiltration. Once Talon's begun her assault, you guys start the evac. Don't forget, we've got two sets of Portkeys. One brings them straight back here to X-Celsior HQ, the other dumps them in the offices of the local DMLE. The former's for the kidnapped students, and are green, the latter's for the U-Men, and are in red. Talon, you're specifically on disarming the U-Men. Don't kill them unless it's absolutely necessary. The Aurors will deal with them_.

Talon nodded. _I've got the drill_. The one called Rogue gently kissed Copycat, the latter blinking and looking like she was trying to stay awake for a time even after the kiss ended. Then, the two took Talon by the hand, and shifted their forms, now looking like a pair of people in life-support suits, festooned with tubes, and walked into the mansion…

* * *

Some way away, in a control room, a grizzled-looking man with wild hair watched a bank of screens, nodding approvingly. By his side, a red-haired woman with emerald eyes looked on, a little anxiously. "Looks like the operation's begun," the woman said quietly.

"Yeah. Hank and Remus are on standby, and Moira's on the phone, just in case," the man said.

"You're not worried about Laura?"

The man scoffed. "I'm more worried about Vanessa and Anna than Laura. And I know they'll be fine. It's the kids those bastards kidnapped I'm worried about. That, and the fact that Chuck's keeping a close eye on X-Celsior. Especially given that your son's part of it."

"Worried about his powers, as usual," the woman sighed, looking pointedly at a coffin-like apparatus behind them. "And we're still making little progress, despite the Professor and Jean's training. He's frustrated by it. He wants to be out in the field, helping the others, rather than playing mission control." She then smirked. "Then again, he can't complain about the perks."

The man chuckled quietly. "I can't exactly complain myself. I once had something of a coterie myself. I'm still surprised you allow him to be with all those girls."

"I know my son, better than maybe anyone," the woman said. "I wouldn't indulge him if I didn't know he loved them all, including your daughter. And they are willing to work with it. In any case, they work very well together as a team."

Before anything further on the matter could be said, a blue, simian face appeared on it, the eyes in the bestial face nonetheless glittering with intelligence. " _Logan, Lily, we've received all of those imprisoned. First impressions suggest they are alive and relatively well, though they are understandably shaken by their ordeal. Thankfully, none of the U-Men got around to vivisecting them and stealing their organs._ "

"Good," Lily said, nodding.

"Anything else, Hank?" the man called Logan asked.

" _Not yet. I suppose if any of the ladies were hurt, we'd know about it from your son, Lily_ ," Hank McCoy, better known by his _nom de guerre_ of 'Beast', said. " _They're protective of each other. Ah, that must be the local DMLE._ "

Another screen lit up, showing a rather harassed and harried-looking young woman. " _This is Auror Graves_ ," said the woman. " _I have just received a batch of idiots in the designated holding cells. Intact, for once, except for a few that looked like they annoyed Talon. We'll be contacting SHIELD before long. I'll need a full report on this ASAP. Are the kids okay?_ "

"As far as we know. You're looking a bit frazzled, Medea," Lily remarked. "Are you okay?"

" _Not really_ ," Medea Graves(3) said, running a hand through her hair. " _Between the latest BS that the Skrulls tried to pull at the Baxter Building, Stark pilfering one of our best Unspeakables for R &D, and having to talk to Murdock about the upcoming trials we're holding, we're stretched pretty thin._"

"Ouch," Lily muttered, wincing. "And the dispute with Doctor Strange?"

" _Still at a stalemate_ ," Graves said with a roll of her eyes. " _I'm the one stuck being messenger girl between the DMLE and the Sanctum Sanctorum after my boss got caught between Strange and Mordo. You know how MACUSA and your Ministry back home feels about the Kamar-Taj._ "

"And that's without going into Wanda and her magic," Logan muttered.

" _Exactly. At least this operation of X-Celsior has gone off well. But like I said, I need a report ASAP. Preferably tomorrow. So debrief them, and send it to me by email. I'll print it off and make like it's come via owl post. Graves out._ "

As she disappeared from the screen, there was a sudden whoosh from behind them, and they turned to find a trio of girls in their late teens, each holding a coin in their hand. "Ugh, I hate travellin' via Portkey," slurred Rogue, as she swayed. Her voice had a soft Southern accent.

"You say that all the time, Anna," Talon, aka Laura Howlett-Kinney sighed. "You can fly without trouble. Why can't you absorb an immunity to Portkey travel?"

"I don't think it's a superpower," Rogue, aka Anna Marie Claremont(4), muttered. "And Vanessa don't get affected by it as much, and yet, I'm still feelin' like crap."

"Well, every superhero has their weakness, right?" Copycat, aka Vanessa Carlysle, remarked with a shrug. Anna merely glared at her. "Is everyone all right?"

"Hank says that they seem all right," Lily said. "They're running checks now."

"Mission accomplished, then," Laura said. "So, is he coming out?"

As if in answer to her question, the coffin-like apparatus opened, and a boy in his late teens sat up, coughing and choking out the liquid he had just been breathing. His lean, athletic body was clad in a black skinsuit that left little to the imagination. His messy black hair was plastered by the liquid he had been immersed in over his head. Irritably, he wiped his fringe away from his eyes, revealing emerald eyes, much like Lily's, and a lightning bolt-like scar on his forehead.

Gingerly, he stood up in the coffin-like tank, and stepped out. "Well," he remarked, "that went very well. Still wish we went Trick or Treating, though. How did we do, Dad?"

Logan snorted. They weren't related by any means, but the two had a slight paternal-filial relationship, especially now that the boy was a lover of his daughter. Well, Laura was actually an opposite-sex clone, but Logan treated her as a daughter. Well, now he did, after a rocky beginning. "Cheeky brat," Logan growled good-naturedly. "You did well. Chuck ought to be fine with it. X-Celsior's never going to get the more dangerous missions X-Force will undertake, but you work well for missions like this."

Lily nodded. "I know you wish to be with them when they do these missions, darling, but…"

"I know, my power," the boy said morosely. "At least Aunt Jean has the excuse of the Phoenix Force, and the DMLE gets a bit iffy about magic being exposed on top of superpowers, Doctor Strange and Wanda aside. But…"

"Just keep training, kid," Logan said. "I know, it's easy for me to say that. But you're like your aunt and your mother. You're a strong kid. Look at it this way. Five years ago, you'd never have had any restraints off your power. Now, you're down to four levels left. Out of seven."

"Okay, Dad, but don't forget my name in your old age," the boy said cheekily. "It's Harry, remember? Or should I write it down on the back of your hand to remind you?"

Logan scoffed, clenching a fist, a trio of claws sliding out with a distinctive 'snikt' sound. "Wanna say that again, bub?"

It was part of the banter between adopted father and son. Lily rolled her eyes and said, "Put those away, Logan." She looked at Harry and the three girls. "We'll do a quick debrief. Graves wants a report with her ASAP. I'm still surprised a Pureblood like her uses a laptop. MACUSA's not much different from Britain when it comes to adopting technology. Anyway, after this debrief, you guys can go to bed."

The quartet of teenagers nodded. It had been a long night, and they intended to get some rest as soon as possible…

* * *

The next morning, in a bedroom elsewhere in the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning, a quartet of figures were snuggled up in bed around each other. Save for one of them, they were entirely naked, with Anna being dressed in a sheer bodystocking that nonetheless pretty much showed everything. After all, her powers worked on physical contact, and she had gotten used to wearing covering clothing, even if it did show some skin.

In any case, the quartet in this room were the main members of the newest offshoot of the X-Men, X-Celsior. Vanessa Carlysle, aka Copycat, a blue-skinned, white-haired teen with the ability to change her appearance. Anna Marie Claremont, aka Rogue, cursed with the ability to absorb the powers, memories, and lifeforce of those she came into physical contact with. Laura Howlett-Kinney, once known as X-23, now Talon, the clone daughter of Logan, aka James Howlett, aka the Wolverine, sharing his healing factor and bone claws.

And Harry Evans, born as Harry Potter. The true Boy Who Lived, but whose Mutant abilities (awakened at a much earlier age than normal) would see him shunned by most in Magical Britain, not least his own father and his younger brother William. Abilities that had saved him and his family from Voldemort. His mother and a family friend, Remus Lupin, had been forced to flee with Harry to the US shortly afterwards, finding sanctuary at the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning.

It hurt Lily Evans to be forced to flee her own husband, and leave her second child behind. But the courts were ruinous in the Wizengamot, prejudiced against Muggleborns and Halfbloods, and Mutants most of all. Lily herself had a mutation, one she had hidden, a mild telepathic ability that seemed amplified in her younger half-sister, Jean Grey, and her son. An ability that had been kept at bay by potions during her school years.

Harry had grown up within the halls of the X-Mansion, trained and educated by the founding members of the X-Men. His power was extremely hard to control, making Jean Grey's difficulties pale by comparison. Even now, he had many restraints placed on his psychic power, albeit at his own request, by his aunt and Professor Charles Xavier. He still underwent training, both physically and for his powers. He became friends with a number of his fellow Mutants. Not all of them, of course, but he certainly had a large circle of friends and family in either blood or concept.

That he had obtained one lover was a bit unexpected. To obtain three who were willing to share was astonishing, even uncanny. And yet, it had happened. Okay, it had been rocky at times, but these four trusted each other to the ends of the Earth.

They stirred, and Harry gave each of them a morning kiss. He didn't even hesitate when it came to Anna, despite her powers. He had a mild immunity to them, enough that physical intimacy was merely draining instead of life-threatening. Plus, she helped siphon off the excess power from his psychic abilities, so she was almost psychic herself.

As he finished, though, they all heard a voice in their heads. _Sorry, lovebirds, but there'll be no time to play this morning_ , came the familiar voice of Harry's aunt, Jean Grey. Beneath the facile tone of Jean's voice was a more serious undertone. _Something's come up._

 _What's come up, Aunt Jean?_ Harry responded.

 _We'd best explain it in Charles' office_ , she said. _We've got Dumbledore, plus a trio of idiots from the British Ministry waiting, along with some Aurors_ …

Dumbledore. A grandfather figure in Harry's life. The headmaster of Hogwarts, and one of the few people from Lily and Remus' pasts who deigned to visit. Harry liked the old codger, though not his taste in clothes. _Which idiots, Aunty?_

 _Well, there's this horrendous woman in a pink cardigan by the name of Umbridge and who hasn't got a single tactful or respectful bone in her body…and I could swear she's Mortimer Toynbee's more evil cousin. She looks more toad-like than he does. There's this anal-retentive type who looks like J Jonah Jameson turned into a bureaucrat called Barty Crouch. And there's a former Quidditch star called Ludo Bagman, and he's looking more punch-drunk than someone who's gone toe-to-toe with the Hulk._

 _So what's the problem?_ Laura asked.

 _They claim that Harry has been entered in the Tri-Wizard Tournament at Hogwarts. And you are bound by magical contract to participate, Harry, or forfeit your magic, and perhaps your life_ …

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, the beginning of a new story. It took quite a bit of thought to decide on a team name for Harry's team. I found out that 'Excelsior' was originally used for a young superhero support group that was changed into the Loners, partly because apparently Stan Lee has a trademark on the phrase. I decided to use it as a variation on the various 'X'-themed teams in** ** _X-Men_** **.**

 **Now, this story, broadly speaking, will be similar in many ways to my previous WBWL harem story,** ** _Wings of the Forsaken_** **. Unlike that story, James and Sirius, while they will be bashed fairly heavily, are not as overtly villainous. Here, they are bigoted arsewipes, but not murderous. In order to avoid confusion with Charles Xavier, I'm changing the usual name I use for the WBWL, Charles, to William. Why? Because immediately before Henry the First of England, there was William the Second.**

 **Incidentally, Harry, Anna (or Rogue if you prefer), Laura and Vanessa are all 19 here. Not exactly the same age, but the same amount of years old.**

 **1\. I chose Talon because X-23 sounded like too much of a reminder of Laura's past, while Talon, which was apparently an alias Laura had used before, sounds appropriate.**

 **2\. For those of you more familiar with the films or TV series than the comics, the U-Men, who first appeared in Grant Morrison's run on the comics, were a cult-like organisation who killed mutants, stole their organs, and grafted it onto themselves. They ran around in self-contained life-support suits.**

 **3\. Medea Graves is an OC, but she's meant to be a descendant of Percival Graves, from the film** ** _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_** **. And yes, I'm aware that he was impersonated in the film. I'm assuming that this is a descendant from before his impersonation.**

 **4\. Okay, I know they've never actually given Rogue a last name, so I gave her the last name of Claremont, after Chris Claremont, one of the writers for the comics and one of her creators.**


	93. X-Celsior (Revised version) Chapter 2

_**X-CELSIOR (REVISED VERSION)**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **ENTRAPMENT**

The meeting had not been pleasant. Harry had to calm Laura down through their mental link, given the sheer contempt that they had all been shown by the Umbridge woman. He knew Logan would have been struggling to hold his own temper. Barty Crouch and Ludo Bagman weren't as confrontational, but they were certainly as obstinate: Harry Evans was entered into the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

After having delivered the finality of the decision, the three Ministry officials left, while Dumbledore stayed. Of those who came, he was perhaps the only one to truly care about what Harry thought.

In Charles Xavier's opulent office, shortly after the Ministry officials and the Aurors left, Logan pinched his nose. "So, lemme get this straight. 'Cos some bastard managed to get Harry's name into the Goblet, he's stuck in this tournament thing with no way out? And if he doesn't participate, he loses his magic?"

"Indeed, that is correct, Logan," Dumbledore said sadly. "Both he and his brother have been entered. And rather suspiciously, the rules of the Tri-Wizard Tournament have been amended to remove any loopholes that would allow Harry or William to bow out."

Charles Xavier steepled his fingers as he sat behind his desk, the bald psychic considering the matter. "And you suspect two agencies involved, Albus."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Even with my skills in Occlumency, I find myself continually surprised by you, Charles. Yes, indeed, I suspect two culprits, two separate culprits, in entering Harry and William. Harry, I believe, was entered by an agent of Voldemort. After all, few would know that it was Harry's powers that allowed him to deflect the Killing Curse, and Voldemort would be one of them. I do not know who the agent of Voldemort is. That being said, I am fairly certain that William was entered either by James or Sirius, on William's own request. The boy wishes to test his mettle and show that he is truly the Boy Who Lived, as well as claw back some of his fame. You have gained some small notoriety back home, Harry, due to your work with the X-Men, even in a support role. _The Quibbler_ publishes tales of your exploits."

"Well, we've had Luna and her father visit," Harry said with a smile. "So's Hermione. I heard Hermione's taken with Franklin Richards, actually."

"So I am told," Dumbledore said. "But already there is something of an outcry about a Mutant participating in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. _The Daily Prophet_ is having a field day. I'm afraid that there is little that can be done. Harry will have to come and participate in the three Tasks of the Tournament, along with two specific events: the Weighing of the Wands, and the Yule Ball. Participating in the Tasks to the best of Harry's ability is all that is needed to satisfy the magical contract, the other two are more tradition than anything else. You do still have a wand, Harry?"

"Yeah, but I don't use it much now. Wanda's been helping me with my wandless magic whenever she has time off from the Avengers and doesn't want to have some quiet time with the Vision," Harry said. "I did most of my final year exams wandlessly."

"A remarkable achievement, but they will need to see your wand," Dumbledore said.

"Hey, do we need to come with Harry?" Vanessa asked.

"While it's not compulsory, you would do well to support him, Miss Carlysle," Dumbledore said. "I would suggest wearing robes, though. By the standards of the wizarding world, the uniforms of the X-Men are rather scandalous, especially on the women."

Anna scoffed. "Maybe we should send Emma in her old Hellfire Club getup. That'd blow their minds."

More than a few in the room chuckled at Anna's snide remark. Emma Frost was known for wearing rather revealing outfits, and back when she was the White Queen of the Hellfire Club, she had worn outfits that amounted to little more than lingerie. She'd certainly make waves in Magical Britain dressed like that.

"Robes aren't good for fighting in," Laura remarked. "What if it comes down to a fight?"

"I should certainly hope it doesn't," Dumbledore said.

"Sadly, trouble has a habit of coming our way," Charles said. "Those with superpowers tend to be living embodiments of Finagle's Law."

"English, Chuck," Logan growled.

Jean Grey, a beautiful woman with red hair and green eyes, looking somewhat like her half-sister, sighed. "Finagle's Law means that anything that can go wrong, will go wrong, at the worst possible time."

"Why didn't you say so?" Logan muttered. While the belligerent Mutant was far from stupid, he wasn't exactly cultured. Then again, as he often said, he was the best at what he did, and what he did isn't very nice. Of course, he was also a better father figure to Harry than his own biological father. Not that Harry lacked for role models here.

"Is there anything you can tell us about the Tasks, Albus?" Remus asked.

The old man shook his head. "I am sworn to secrecy, and the First Task requires that the student faces the unknown only with their wand…and innate abilities. That being said, it's something of an unofficial tradition of the Tri-Wizard Tournament to cheat." He looked over at Harry pointedly.

Taking the hint, Harry gently probed the old man's mind. Dumbledore had let some of his Occlumency barriers down, enough for Harry to see information on the First Task. What he saw ignited a brief flash of anger, though not at Dumbledore. Apparently it was Bagman and Crouch's idea to do this for the First Task.

"So, when do we need to be at Hogwarts?" Lily asked.

"The First Task of the Tournament takes place on November 24," Dumbledore said. "However, the Weighing of the Wands is on the 5th. I should warn you, members of the press will be there, in all likelihood, Rita Skeeter."

"Is she still working for that rag?" Remus groaned. "She's a worse muckraker than J Jonah Jameson!"

Vanessa looked at the werewolf with a raised eyebrow. "Really?"

"Well, when he isn't doing stories about Spider-Man and others, he's more accurate than the _Prophet_. Though that sets the bar pretty low."

"Must be pretty bad if it's worse than the _Bugle_ , bub," Logan remarked. "I use that crap to line the litter trays here."

"Actually, I believe Moira uses a copy of the _Prophet_ to line her birdcage," Charles said with a smirk.

"In any case, I would appreciate it if Harry and his guardians came to Hogwarts on the 5th by noon. Greenwich Meridian Time, obviously. I can provide Portkeys, or you could take the Floo connection, but I believe there is more than enough room on the grounds for you to land one of those jets of yours if you wish to make an entrance," Dumbledore said. "It is hardened against EMP?"

"Of course," Charles said. "We've taken it to magic-heavy areas before, and of course, there is what some of our enemies can throw at us."

"Good. Well, I believe you have heard everything pertinent. And please rest assured, I am doing everything to uncover the culprit behind this fiasco," Dumbledore said. "I look forward to your company soon…"

* * *

After Dumbledore left, Harry and his girls decided to head to the kitchen (well, one of them) for a late breakfast. Jean came with them. Joining them not long afterwards was Jean's lover, Scott 'Cyclops' Summer, Emma 'White Queen' Frost, her clone daughters known as the 'Stepford Cuckoos', and Ororo 'Storm' Monroe. The latter had come back from Wakanda for a short time to be a guest teacher at the X-Mansion.

While Scott and Logan weren't on the best of terms, partly due to Logan once carrying a torch for Jean, Scott did get along well enough with Harry. He was a handsome, brown-haired man who wore red-tinted glasses, a protection against the blasts of energy he projected from his eyes. Emma was a tall, haughty-looking woman with hair that was so blonde, it was practically white. A former member of the infamous Hellfire Club, she eventually defected to join the X-Men, where her psychic abilities and her ability to transform into a living diamond was a boon. She dressed in clothing that was somewhat…provocative for a teacher, though thankfully it was more concealing than her lingerie-like wear she had worn in the Hellfire Club.

The Stepford Cuckoos looked like Emma Frost in her teens, albeit dressed more conservatively. They also had more impassive expressions on their faces. They were practically a hive mind, divided between five bodies. That being said, they also helped Harry with his own abilities, and they were friendly enough in a somewhat detached way. Ororo, meanwhile, was a regal-looking African woman with a mane of snow-white hair. She had recently been married to T'Challa, the King of Wakanda who was also the hero known as the Black Panther.

Harry let Jean explain things while he and his girls had breakfast, with him doing the preparation. It was a joke that he was the cook of X-Celsior, a joke that was based in reality. Hell, he even made breakfast for the Stepford Cuckoos. By the end of Jean's explanation, none of those present looked impressed at the situation. "Didn't that old fool take any precautions to prevent anyone from entering another name?" Emma Frost asked.

"An Age Line should have prevented underaged students from participating, and the Goblet is supposed to only recognise three schools," Harry said, remembering what Dumbledore had said while the others were present. "An adult bypassed the former, though I'm of age, and used a Confundus to trick the Goblet into believing there were more schools. They have to be powerful wizards to even try such a thing. A student certainly couldn't unless they were a prodigy."

"Be thankful you weren't there when Dumbledore explained this," Vanessa said, picking at her food. "There was that awful Umbridge woman. You don't need to be psychic to tell that she thought all of us were less than human."

Jean nodded. "I peeked into her thoughts. Umbridge was a most odious woman. It's like peeking into the minds of Trask or Stryker. And that was just from a surface probe. That being said, Crouch's mind was…well, a bit weird. I didn't go beyond the surface, but he has immense Occlumency barriers, and whatever isn't behind them is…well, ridiculously focused, and yet, diffuse. I know that sounds paradoxical, but…well, it seems vaguely familiar. I just can't put my finger on why. And Bagman…well, he's like anyone who's gotten too much brain damage."

"Leaving that aside, this means that Harry has been entered into this farce without his consent," Ororo said. "And given how high anti-Mutant sentiment is in magical communities, particularly places like Magical Britain…"

"MACUSA's more used to us really only because of the X-Men, and the various superpowered groups in America," Scott pointed out. "And even then, there are elements with the magical communities who have worked with our enemies, like Trask."

"Hence why X-Celsior exists," Laura said. "X-Celsior also exists to deal with any magical threats to Mutants that can be handled without involving X-Force. By the way, Scott, how is Cable coping with Deadpool being on the team?"

"It's better that you don't know," Scott said.

"That bad, huh?" Harry asked.

Right at that moment, Deadpool, dressed in nothing but boxers and his red and black mask (and thus showing off his cancer-riddled immortal body), ran through the kitchen. "…RUNNING RUNNING RUNNING RUNNING…" he yelped as he ran through.

"…Worse," Scott said, utterly deadpan, after a moment of appalled silence.

"Tell me, why in the hell did we allow him to join us?" Anna asked.

"Well, he's skilled and funny," Harry said with a shrug. "Plus, better he's on our side than on someone else's, right?"

After a moment, everyone decided to agree on at least that point. The insane Merc with a Mouth was a skilled combatant, and he was, albeit debatably, less destructive as part of the X-Men than he was outside of it.

Debatably being the key word.

Deadpool suddenly came back into the kitchen. Thankfully, he was now wearing a shirt and shorts. How the hell that happened so quickly, well, nobody knew, though it might have to do with his teleportation belt. "Hey, Harry! Can ya rustle me up some waffles?"

Harry sighed, before gesturing at the fridge and the waffle iron. As the spell took the waffle mix from the fridge and poured it onto the waffle iron, Harry remarked, "A 'please' wouldn't go astray, Wade."

"Meh, societal norms are bullshit anyway," the Merc with a Mouth said. "You'd know all about that, Mister Harem. Then again, blame the author. He wanted to experiment with harem fics. He was the one who de-aged my paramour and made her yours."

"Wade, take your insanity elsewhere," Emma said, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Once I'm done eating. I've got a plate of waffles with my name on it. That's Wade Winston Wilson, BTW," Deadpool said. "Anyway, I've gotta lay low for a bit. I kinda annoyed Neena a little too much, and her trigger finger is a bit on the itchy side. I kept asking her to pose for the swimsuit calendar I'm making to raise funds for the X-Men. Incidentally, are any of you fine ladies interested in stripping down?"

There was a 'snikt' sound, and Deadpool found one of Laura's claws very close to his groin. "I know you have a healing factor," Laura said as she ate the rest of her breakfast with her other hand. "But it won't stop it from being painful when I remove it, and force it somewhere very inconvenient."

"And we find your lack of propriety disturbing, Wade Wilson," spoke Celeste, one of the Stepford Cuckoos.

"It's worse than having Quentin crushing on me," Sophie added.

" _Ew_ ," the Stepford Cuckoos chorused at once, shuddering in unison.

"Hey, I had a crush on you lot before," Harry pointed out. It was while his relationship with Laura, who was his first girlfriend, was yet to begin.

"True, but unlike Quentin…" Esme began.

"You can take 'no' for an answer," Phoebe finished.

"You're better as our friend," Irma added.

"Aaaand that's creepy as fuck," Deadpool said.

" _So are you_ ," the Cuckoos chorused.

"Can you quit it with doin' the quintet version of _The Shining?_ " Deadpool complained.

"You deserve it, Wade," Emma said with a smirk.

"Hey, they're _your_ kids! Okay, like Laura here, they're clones created by Weapons Plus out of some sadistic need for living weapons that turn on their masters, but hey, technicalities! Show some parental responsibility!"

"That's somewhat rich, considering your lack of responsibility," Ororo observed. "And when was the last time you were responsible for anything, Wilson?"

"Well, I _am_ responsible for the swimsuit calendar. On a wholly unrelated note, d'you think T'Challa would mind if you show the world how great you look in a thong?"

It was at that point that Harry, Jean, Emma and the Stepford Cuckoos sent simultaneous telepathic messages to Neena 'Domino' Thurman, telling her where to find Deadpool, while Ororo merely showed the comportment and restraint required of the royalty of Wakanda. The Merc with a Mouth had just enough time to start eating the waffles before he had to run for his life once more…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, yeah. That just happened. A bit of exposition, a bit more of the X-Men, and a bit of Deadpool. Don't worry, Deadpool won't take everything over. He's just occasional comic relief.**

 **Next chapter, heading to Hogwarts.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	94. One Flew into the Cuckoos' Nest Chap 1

**Sorry for those anticipating the posting of _X-Celsior_ , but unfortunately, I went off the idea. I felt the harem to be crowbarred in, and while I still intend to do an _X-Men_ crossover shipping Harry with X-23, and maybe a response to the 'Cook' challenge whitetigerwolf posted, those are on the backburner for now.  
**

 **But after discussion with whitetigerwolf, I decided to try something I should have tried before. More than a few of my readers, I'm sure, are aware of Blood Brandy's Vegas challenge, which, while originally meant for DC crossovers, has been used for Marvel and other crossovers as well. And while there's still a harem in this story, how it comes about feels somewhat less awkward...considering that Harry gets hitched with a certain quintet of psychics...**

 **So, ladies and gentlemen, I present _One Flew into the Cuckoos' Nest_.**

 **Oh, and once more, I should point out, this is not Earth-616. Plus, we'll be having cameos from a lot of Marvel characters, as you'll see...**

* * *

 _ **ONE FLEW INTO THE CUCKOOS' NEST**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **DIAMOND (GIRLS) ARE FOREVER**

Ah, morning amnesia. People believe it's a bad thing, but in truth, it allows the mind to come to grips with a difficult situation one step at a time. It can stop some people from waking up screaming.

Of course, paired with a hangover, it can be the utter pits.

Emerald eyes flickered open blearily, only to snap shut, a groan of pain worming itself from between parched lips. It felt like an icicle was being stabbed through his skull. It was enough to make one a teetotaller.

The boy in bed was in his teens, rather scrawny-looking, his features framed by a messy thatch of black hair. On his forehead, partially covered by his coif, was a thunderbolt-shaped scar, just above his right eye. _Ugh, did anyone get the number of the dragon that stomped on me?_ he thought to himself as his brain rebooted, with difficulty.

First, his name: Harry James Potter. Then, his age: 16 (though as far as his fake ID was concerned, he was called James Evans, and he was 18). Then, his life so far: crappy.

In fact, the latest crappy thing to happen to him, as far as he could remember, was his godfather Sirius dying, and so many of his friends nearly following him. All because he got fooled by visions sent from Voldemort.

Then, came the will reading. Of Sirius emancipating Harry from beyond the grave. Of Dumbledore contesting it. Of the arguments that followed. Eventually, Harry was forcibly returned to 4 Privet Drive, only for Remus and Tonks to fetch him out of there. It seemed that Sirius had pretty much ordered Moony to take Harry on a vacation to the US. It took some tricky doing, but they went to Las Vegas, to celebrate Harry's 16th.

Most of that time passed in a blur, partly due to alcohol, and partly due to the rather surreal nature of the interiors of casinos, meant to act as a form of sensory deprivation. He vaguely remembered winning big on the fruit machines and all sorts of games, as if in compensation for his crappy luck in life. He vaguely remembered drinking, then speaking to a rather beautiful, if a bit straitlaced, blonde girl, though his inebriated state had him thinking there were five of them.

After that, things became more hazy and fragmentary. The only thing he remembered with any real clarity was Elvis…well, an impersonator, anyway. Then, something about a girl made of diamonds. That HAD to be something caused by drink.

Still, he had figured out the where, and a little of the why. Well, where the hangover was concerned. Though the odd amount of pressure on his body, especially his limbs, was odd. As if he was surrounded in bed by a number of naked female bodies, all curled up to him.

He opened his eyes tentatively, and found that he was, indeed, surrounded in bed by a number of naked female bodies, all curled up to him. Five of them, in fact. Identical quintuplets, in fact. All with the same regally beautiful features framed by white-blonde hair. And about his age, too. And was it him, or did they look vaguely familiar?

Somewhere, in whatever afterlife existed, Harry knew that Sirius would be seething with jealousy, managing to have it off with identical quintuplets. Harry wasn't sure whether he had had sex with them or not, but evidence suggested he had. It wasn't just his noggin that was sore. It was his everything.

Then, one of the girls stirred with a groan, one soon echoed by the others. They were waking up. "Ugh, my head," one of them remarked, opening her eyes and revealing icy blue irises. When she saw Harry, she blinked, confused.

"We've all got headaches, Sophie," another of the girls groused quietly. "Just don't speak so loudly."

"I don't know why Logan likes drinking so much. Then again, with his healing factor, he probably resists inebriation," a third muttered.

Soon, Harry was surrounded on all sides by the blonde quintet, looking at him in (mild) confusion and annoyance. Eventually, the first one who spoke, Sophie, spoke. "You don't remember much of what happened, do you?"

Harry, reluctantly, shook his head. "Do you?"

"Only fragments," said another one. "But we've managed to put them together, and the story they tell is…"

"Well, let's be frank," another said. "If you didn't let us look into your mind last night, we would be angrier."

"Look into my…mind?" Harry blinked. He nearly got angry at their intrusion, given what Snape did, but he didn't know what the hell had happened last night. "Are you wizards?"

They snorted in derision simultaneously. "We know of wizards," one of them said.

"But we're…different. We're telepaths, psychics, _Mutants_."

Harry's eyes widened in realisation. Now he knew who they looked like. "Mutants…are you related to Emma Frost?"

The five girls looked at each other, before Sophie said, "Our mother…after a fashion. We didn't tell you last night, though you guessed we were Mutants."

"At least you aren't as judgemental as many wizards," one of her sisters said. "Especially given who our mother is."

"Well, she's with the X-Men now, isn't she?" Harry asked.

Again, the sisters looked at each other. Eventually, they looked back to Harry. "Well, it's not as simple as 'she's with the X-Men, so she must be good', but you accept us better than most wizards," one of them said.

"Many think of us as Dark Creatures," another said. "Even here in the US, we haven't had the best relationship with MACUSA."

It was like talking to the Weasley Twins again…if they were blonde quintuplets who vaguely reminded him of Daphne Greengrass. "Well, as long as you're not with the Brotherhood or anything…so, what are your names?"

"Sophie."

"Phoebe."

"Irma, though most call me Mindee."

"Celeste."

"Esme."

"We call ourselves the 'Five-in-One'," Sophie said, "though some of our classmates call us the Stepford Cuckoos."

Harry blinked, before some weird connection made itself plain. "Wait…Sophie, Phoebe, Irma, Celeste and Esme…is another codename for you the SPICE Girls or something(1)?"

"May I?" Esme asked with an annoyed sigh.

"Be my guest," Sophie said, with Esme promptly swatting Harry lightly about the head.

"Ow. What was that for?" Harry asked, still feeling a bit bleary.

"Amongst other things, bad jokes," Esme said.

"You'll need a clear head for this next bit, though," Sophie said. "Just a moment."

The quintet of girls closed their eyes. And then, suddenly, Harry felt something not unlike a wave go across his mind. In its wake, there was no headache or hangover bleariness. He felt certainly more awake than he was before. "Okay, so…what was that? Some sort of psychic hangover cure?"

"More or less," Irma said. "We just stimulated certain parts of your brain, as well as having your brain ignore most of the hangover symptoms."

"Plus, we stimulated the parts of your autonomic nervous system that deal with your liver and kidneys to increase activity," Celeste added.

Phoebe nodded. "It's a temporary fix, but it'll last until your body metabolizes or flushes out the chemicals causing your hangover. Though drinking a glass of water would be recommended."

He had to admit, he felt much better now. "Okay, but I don't think I'll drink that much ever again."

Sophie scoffed gently. "That would be wise. Which brings us to the bad news. Look on your hand, specifically the ring finger."

Harry did so. And to his surprise, there was an actual ring on his ring finger. Three, actually. The Potter family ring, and the Black family ring, which he had gotten from Gringotts after Sirius' will was read. And a simple gold band which he hadn't seen before. He didn't remember donning any of those, though.

And then, with a sinking feeling, he looked around at the Cuckoos, who were holding up their own hands. And there were gold bands on each ring finger. "Oh no…" he muttered.

" _Oh yes_ ," the Cuckoos chorused eerily.

"We got hitched, didn't we?" Harry groaned. "Went into a chapel or something? Was the minister an Elvis impersonator?"

"And a First-Gen," Esme said. "What they call a Muggleborn here, because they call Muggles No-Majs in the US. So this marriage is legally binding in both mundane and magical worlds."

"You're married to Sophie legally, but as we are somewhat one entity…" Irma said, leaving it in the air.

"And, well, we consummated that marriage last night, in this room, which the casino only gives to high-rollers," Sophie said, blushing slightly, a blush shared by her sisters. "Well, I was the only one you actually coupled with physically, but my sisters…we shared senses, so the consummation was shared. And, well…for our first time, it was rather good."

The quintet nodded, their blush deepening. Well, to be complimented by her was an achievement, even if he couldn't remember coupling with her.

"And the diamonds? I had this weird vision of you all as living diamonds." Harry frowned when he remembered who their mother was. "Oh wait, Emma Frost can do that, can't she?"

"Of course," Celeste said, as the Cuckoos changed into diamond forms. Glittering and beautiful. "And so can we."

"Huh." Which was all Harry's mind, even with the hangover being suppressed, could come up with. Not the most intelligent of answers, but understandable, considering everything.

"I think his brain broke, Sophie," Esme remarked as they shifted back.

"It's a lot to take in," Sophie said. "He doesn't have a hive mind to share the load. Anyway, better that we ended up with him than Quire."

As one, they chorused, " _Ewww._ "

"Quire?" Harry asked.

"Quentin Quire," Sophie explained. "AKA Kid Omega. A fellow psychic at Xavier's School for Higher Learning, a rival…and he has designs on us…well, me in particular."

"He's a pervert," Celeste said with a grimace. "We sometimes hear his thoughts."

They all shuddered in unison. Harry said, "So, you're okay with this?"

"Not really," Esme said.

"But…it could be much worse," Irma said.

"We liked what we saw in your mind," Phoebe said with a small smile.

"You'd fit in very well in the X-Men, even if you're not a Mutant," Sophie said.

"I'll have to take a raincheck on that," Harry said. "Marriage aside, I've got to get back home some time. Hey, speaking of which, do you happen to know what happened to my chaperones?"

"The werewolf and the shapeshifter?" Sophie asked. "Well…"

* * *

Remus was blinking the sleep from his eyes, and clutching his head, when he heard a voice from the bathroom door. "Well, we both had a good time last night, but I really shouldn't have done that. I was here as a favour for Charles to keep an eye on the others. I shouldn't have drunk as much as Tony when he's fallen off the wagon. Still, I'm sorry. You've still got a hangover, and I haven't."

Remus stared at the naked woman who was towelling herself off. The first thing he noticed was the emerald-coloured skin. The second thing that he noticed was her physique, muscled without being grotesque, and quite attractive, to say the least. So too was her face, framed by tresses of dark hair.

"Oh, right. You might not remember who I am. I remember who you are, Remus Lupin, so allow me to introduce myself. I'm Jennifer Walters, but some call me She-Hulk…"

* * *

Tonks was screaming her head off when she woke up, only to find a face like something out of a nightmare, riddled with lumps and scars. As she leapt out of bed, the man, who was wearing a red and black suit, yelped, "Hey, lady, calm down! We didn't sleep together, okay? I just came in here because, well, Quatermass found it funny, and frankly, so did I!"

Tonks stopped screaming. "…What?" she asked. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Just your friendly neighbourhood Deadpool. BTW, you didn't actually sleep with anyone last night, so you're not in THAT awkward a situation. You got a chivalrous one, he let you sleep on the bed while he used the couch. Just don't freak out about his looks."

"…What?" Tonks asked. Again.

"Wade? Is that you?" asked a voice with a German accent. "What are you doing in my hotel room?"

"Oh, just messing around, Kurt," Deadpool said, before he saluted. "Gotta fly!" And with that, he vanished in a strobe of light.

"I swear, he is like a cockroach," the man called Kurt complained, walking through into the bedroom.

Tonks just stared at the man who had walked in. Well, he didn't look like one. He was lithe and lean, with dark blue fur, yellow eyes, and pointed ears. A tail waved gently. If you looked past those elements, he was actually kind of handsome.

What's more, Tonks recognised him. Unlike many in the Order, she knew quite a bit about the superheroes of the world, and the X-Men in particular. "Umm, thanks for letting me have your bed."

"You're welcome. You had drunk a lot last night, you and your companions. You tried to drag me to some chapel run by a…how do you say in Britain? A Muggleborn? Yes. A Muggleborn dressed as Elvis Presley. I demurred, and, well, we got to talking some more, I couldn't find your friends, and…well, I brought you up here. I do not know why Wade was here, but he gets everywhere. Anyway, in case you have forgotten, allow me to introduce myself. I am…"

"Kurt Wagner, the Nightcrawler," Tonks said with a grin. "You've been with the X-Men, Excalibur…I used to have a poster of you in Excalibur a couple of years ago, along with Wolfsbane, Psylocke, and Colossus!"

Kurt seemed slightly nonplussed, but recovered. "Ah. Sorry, I was wearing my holographic disguise before. I thought my true appearance might frighten you. I'm glad that I was mistaken. I believe you said your name was Nymphadora Tonks?"

After a moment, Tonks said, "Kurt…well, assuming you don't mind me calling you by your first name…"

"Not at all."

"Thank you. Unfortunately, I'm going to have to be a hypocrite here, and ask that you don't call me by my first name. If you absolutely must, I'll be nice and let you call me Dora. I generally go by Tonks."

"What's wrong with Nymphadora, if you don't mind me asking?"

"My parents gave it to me. I got teased for it. Though I guess you probably got a lot more. Sorry, shouldn't have brought that up," Tonks said with a wince.

"It's all right," Kurt said with a wave of a three-fingered hand. "I've dealt with far worse from people who actually meant to insult me. Perhaps we should leave this for another time. I think we have charges we need to look out for."

Tonks winced. Yeah, he was right. She didn't know where Harry and Remus were. And as much as she admired the X-Men for being heroes, they also tended to be trouble magnets on a par with Harry. So she had better go and find them ASAP…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, there it is. Harry's hooked up with the Cuckoos, Remus and She-Hulk have gotten hitched, and Nightcrawler has been chivalrous with Tonks…though that doesn't mean wedding bells aren't in the future.**

 **1\. Which was apparently the original intention of Stepford Cuckoos creator Grant Morrison, as a reference to the Spice Girls.**


	95. One Flew into the Cuckoos' Nest Chap 2

_**ONE FLEW INTO THE CUCKOOS' NEST**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **FEAR AND LOVING IN LAS VEGAS**

The Cuckoos, rather helpfully, filled in Harry on more of the details he had forgotten in an alcohol-heavy fog. The very luxurious room he had been was a comp, a complimentary service offered to those who gambled a lot of money, and Sirius had set aside a fairly big portion of the Black fortune for Harry to gamble away on this trip. What was more, he had won fairly big, and had been given this room, presumably to avoid gambling any further and threaten the profit margin of the casino. As it happened, this casino was owned by a Squib who used special charms to detect cheating, and whatever Harry used was no specific spell.

This they did so while soaking in a Jacuzzi. A rather large one, enough to accommodate the six of them comfortably. Though Harry was still getting used to the fact that these girls were remotely comfortable with being naked in front of him.

"When's the last time we've tried a Jacuzzi?" Esme sighed quietly.

"Three years ago," Sophie said. "Just before Magneto's latest conniption wrecked half of the X-Mansion. We snuck in. This was just after we arrived."

"Oh, that's right."

"And we're hanging out with a celebrity, at least as far as the wizards are concerned," Phoebe said.

"We're still annoyed at the whole 'permanently binding marriage' thing, but there are far worse people to be bound to," Celeste muttered.

"So…run this by me again. The last time you saw Remus, he was getting hitched to the She-Hulk?" Harry asked. "And Tonks was being led away by Nightcrawler?"

"Yes, though you needn't worry about Tonks," Sophie said. "Kurt would never do anything to her. And Jennifer is virtually nothing like her cousin. Incidentally, we'll have to hurry this up. Your chaperones and ours are coming up soon. They're worried about us."

"Okay. I just have one very important question," Harry asked.

Sophie rolled her eyes as she read his mind pre-emptively. "Yes, you did use protection. I made sure of it, drunk as we all were."

"Okay. One, thanks. Two, that's rather…unnerving, having you read my mind…especially without my permission."

"It's rather hard not to," Irma said. "Your mental defences are, well, lacking."

"And given what we saw of those Occlumency…lessons that greasy-haired bully put you through, it's hardly surprising," Celeste said.

As the quintet rose and stepped out of the Jacuzzi, Sophie bringing Harry out, and handing him a bathrobe to conceal a very conspicuous erection, Harry asked, "What do you mean? Oh, don't tell me that wasn't the way to teach Occlumency?"

"Not properly," Sophie said, as she and her sisters also dressed in bathrobes. She looked over at the others, who nodded in unison, and left the bathroom, closing the door behind them. Sophie's icy blue eyes bore into Harry's own. "Technically, what Snape did could be considered a teaching of Occlumency, but it would be a technique used to test mental defences, not to force you to build them up. He skipped the fundamentals, probably deliberately."

Harry felt his anger welling up inside. "I should have known."

Sophie nodded. "I don't know what possessed Dumbledore, but given his past…well, you've noticed that Dumbledore has a bad habit of keeping information from you and not acting in your best interest. The prophecy, I can understand. That's not something you can give out lightly. But the so-called blood wards? He could have told you after your first year, and Hogwarts would have been better protection than your family. That obstacle course in your first year? While you and your friends were lucky to make it past all that, it still seems lacking for protection around the Philosopher's Stone, save for the Mirror of Erised, though that could have been to lure Voldemort into a false sense of confidence. Having you rescue Sirius and then doing nothing to clear Sirius instead of bringing matters up in the Wizengamot…it may not have done anything, but it could have helped pave the way to his freedom."

"Are you telling me that I can't trust Dumbledore?" Harry asked, his anger growing.

"Certainly not as much as you still do." Sophie closed her eyes and sighed. "Sorry, I know this is hard, and we haven't really had much experience with using tact. You find it hard to trust us. Partly because you only just met us, and partly because, well, we've been invading your mind. We do it on instinct to almost everyone, it's a bad habit of ours. We were born as part of a gestalt, a hive mind. It's only been recently that we've started to develop any kind of individuality. We scan people's minds on instinct to make sure they're not threats. If you want, we're willing to share our memories with you. We'll even help with protecting your mind. As we're stuck with each other, we'll have to make this work. And that will have to include dealing with Voldemort at the bare minimum. We're willing to help you, Harry."

Harry calmed himself down with an effort. Oh, he was still angry. Mostly at Snape, but a little at Sophie for demeaning Dumbledore. But she had a point. Dumbledore had kept too much from Harry, and had tried to keep Harry from gaining his inheritance. "Okay. I'll give you that much for now. But…"

Sophie looked up sharply. "Ah. Your chaperones are here. Along with Kurt and She-Hulk. And Kurt's more than a little disapproving of the fact that we all got married in Las Vegas. He's a fairly devout Catholic, and he only came along to try and keep an eye on the X-Men coming over here. It seems that he let Tonks sleep in his room while he slept on the couch. Oh, and Deadpool was in his room. Marvellous."

"Deadpool?"

Sophie scowled. "The so-called 'Merc with a Mouth'. He's an insane, vulgar walking tumour, literally. He has the healing factor of Wolverine, the mouth of Spider-Man, and the insanity of the Green Goblin. Let's go out there. The initial argument's died down."

* * *

"…And while my knowledge of magical law isn't that comprehensive, Stephen once graciously lent me many books on the subject, including the laws of Magical Britain," said the green-skinned muscled woman who had to be Jennifer Walters. She sighed. "Oh well, can't be helped."

"Can't be helped?" Remus demanded. "But you know of my condition."

"And? My cousin does a lot more damage than you when he gets stressed. A werewolf's a doddle," Jennifer said with a smile. "Besides, you actually care about other people. Otherwise, you wouldn't be frightened of your condition."

The blue-furred demonic visage of what had to be Kurt 'Nightcrawler' Wagner was the first to notice Harry and Sophie emerging. His lips were set in mild disapproval, but that was about it. "Ah, Sophie, and Harry Potter, I believe," he said with his German accent.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Sorry about this mess. I've been a fan of the X-Men for a while. Meeting like this, well…"

At this, a small smile came across Kurt's face. "Well, at least you are contrite. And if the Five-in-One trust you, well, I will trust their judgement. I am Kurt Wagner, or Nightcrawler."

"I know. It's a pleasure to meet you, even if it's under these circumstances," Harry said, offering his hand for Kurt to shake.

The demonic-looking Mutant's smile widened. "And you too."

"And I'm Jennifer Walters," Jennifer said, shaking Harry's own hand. "You probably know me as She-Hulk."

"Yes. Though I thought you were with the Avengers," Harry said.

"I came here as a favour to Professor Xavier," Jennifer said. "Plus, well, my cousin went off the grid recently. Last I heard from Tony, he was in Nevada. And if someone stresses him out, well, we'll soon know it. The Hulk tends to draw attention."

"And in other news, the ocean is wet," Tonks said, rolling her eyes.

"Kurt, are you all right with Tonks?" Sophie asked. "I mean, knowing she is a witch and a Metamorphmagus?"

Kurt shrugged. "Just because my mother had those powers doesn't make all shapeshifters a problem. Besides, she's a fan. And, thankfully, not a rabid one. Anyway, that is not what we should worry about. Remember, Emma's here. How do you think she's going to react to the fact that her daughters are now married?"

"She's reacting fairly badly," Celeste said. "We've been talking her down for the last few minutes or so via telepathy."

Esme nodded. "We've managed to talk her down to just slapping Harry in her diamond form. She originally wanted to psychically lobotomise him and physically castrate him. Both slowly."

"So, instead of being a drooling vegetable eunuch, you just get a bad bruise on your face," Sophie concluded.

"It could be worse," Phoebe added. "You could have slept with Laura. Who is Wolverine's daughter."

Harry thought of the Wolverine, the belligerent Mutant known for his healing factor, Adamantium skeleton, and three claws in each hand he could unsheathe at will. And he couldn't help but shudder. Harry got the feeling that Wolverine would NOT have stopped at castration. He'd be lucky to be alive, have any limbs or most of his digestive tract afterwards. "Still, slapped in the face by a diamond hand?" he asked.

"Our mother's done worse to others," Sophie said.

Any further words they had on the subject were lost when the building shuddered. "What was that?" Remus asked.

"Is it Death Eaters?" Tonks asked.

"Is it the Hulk?" Kurt asked.

The Cuckoos' eyes began to glow softly, before they groaned in irritated unison. " _It's the Shocker_ ," they chorused. " _He's robbing the vault_."

"The Shocker?" Jennifer demanded incredulously. "He's usually in New York. What's he doing robbing a casino in Las Vegas?"

"Probably staying away from Spiderman," Sophie said. "We'd better get down there, people might get hurt."

"Not without getting dressed first!" Tonks snapped.

* * *

When they got down there, thanks to Remus and Tonks Apparating them (Kurt making his own way down), it was bedlam. The Shocker had blasted open a vault, and was staring incredulously at the Dragot coins(1). "Are these things made of real gold or something?" he mused out loud. "Well, that means I can melt them down. And why did those idiots wave those sticks at me?"

"Because they were wizards, moron," Tonks said.

The Shocker whirled. He was dressed in a red and gold padded bodysuit and mask, elaborate gauntlets on his hands. And judging by the resigned look in his eyes, he recognised the superheroes present. "She-Hulk, X-Men…oh, that's not fair at all!"

"I'm sorry, we don't care(2)," Jennifer said, cracking her knuckles. "Now, are you going to come along quietly?"

Shocker sighed. "No." He then triggered his gauntlets, and they dived out of the way as pulses of sonic energy raced towards them. "Can't I just catch a lucky break this once?!" he demanded, firing blast after blast at them. "Seriously, I'll bet that if I took a holiday the French Riviera, I'd run into the Fantastic fucking Four!"

Kurt teleported behind him with a _BAMF!_ noise, and kicked him in the back, sending Shocker sprawling towards Jennifer, who grabbed the man's gauntlets, and tore them off. "Sorry, Herman. You're not having a holiday anywhere after this."

" _Petrificus Totalus_ ," Tonks said with a wave of her wand, causing the Shocker to stiffen, and then topple to the ground. She followed it up by causing him to be bound by ropes. Tonks looked at Jennifer. "In your learned opinion as a lawyer, that doesn't count as excessive force?"

"Not by a long shot," Jennifer said with a smirk.

Remus, meanwhile, went over to one of the guards. After making sure he was all right, Remus asked, "Have the local Aurors been called?"

"No…I don't think so," the guard said as he was helped to his feet. "Bastard took us by surprise. Didn't realise it was some idiot No-Maj with weird weapons, just thought it was some kook. I thought most of that superhero shit happened in New York. The closest we've had to dealing with that normally was when Tony Stark came here once while on a bender."

Another guard, clutching his head and wincing, said, "What about that babbling idiot in the red and black jumpsuit who comes here every now and then?"

"We don't talk about him. It's like he has a Taboo curse on him," the first guard said. "He comes when you talk about him. Or even when you don't. Anyway, I'll go call the Aurors. Wait here, they'll need to question you guys…"

* * *

Charles Xavier sat in his office in the X-Mansion, his hands steepled, as he and Jean Grey had what could be vulgarly called a 'conference call' with Emma Frost. _So, correct me if I am wrong, Miss Frost, but it seems that the Five-in-One have somehow managed to become wedded to one of the most famous wizards in the world. And apparently Jennifer has managed to become wed to a werewolf. And Herman Schultz had made the mistake of robbing the casino you were at._

 _Yes. By the time I got there, it was over. I decided to prioritize the students' safety, as Kurt and Jennifer were dealing with the problem alongside my daughters and the wizards. I'm also very annoyed, Charles._

Jean smirked. _Are you sure this isn't karma biting you in the backside for having an affair with my husband within his head?_

Emma snorted in a rather unladylike-fashion. _I don't subscribe to karma. Anyway, if karma really existed, J Jonah Jameson would be Fin Fang Foom's bitch and Peter Parker would be Stark's biggest corporate rival by now. Anyway, my daughters managed to talk me down from dealing with Potter in a manner Shaw would have been proud of._

 _Just as well_ , Charles responded. _Remember, he is an icon of Magical Britain, albeit one whom the press had badmouthed over the past year or so, in a manner that would have made Jameson proud, given his crusade against Peter. I would actually like to meet Mr Potter. Once everything is settled in Las Vegas, would you please invite them to stay here until the time comes for them to return to Britain?_

 _Fine. These three at least are pretty non-judgemental for wizards. And Potter and the Tonks woman apparently know about the X-Men. I'll get them to come with us. Just a hint, Charles: be honest, and try not to read his mind. My daughters got a pass because they were worried about him being a threat, but one of his teachers, supposedly trying to teach him Occlumency, basically raped his mind continually. We're talking the sort of stuff you only use if necessary. The girls intend to try and help teach him how to protect his mind, but they've told me something privately, something they've detected within him._

 _Like what?_ Jean asked.

 _Funny_ _ **you**_ _should say that, Jean. You know how you are the vessel for the Phoenix Force? They've detected something similar, another entity inside him…or part of one. Through his memories, they found he has a mental link to Voldemort. But they think it's something else. It's like he has a fragment of Voldemort's soul in him…and that's something I cannot allow my daughters to be anywhere near. So we'll need to find a way to get rid of it_ …

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, things have been cleared up, the Shocker got owned while trying to rob a magical casino, and the Cuckoos and Emma know about the Horcrux, even if they don't know the details.**

 **Now, the Shocker was based more, in terms of personality and his bad luck, on his Ultimate version, though his appearance is based on his standard look. I chose him as a villain because, well, I didn't want to just choose any ultra-powerful villain. I considered Magneto, but I have it in the back of my head that he's in one of his phases where he is, if not allied with the X-Men, then at least not heading up the Brotherhood, trying to do good. And I wanted the good guys to thwart an attempted robbery at the casino, not save the city.**

 **1\. According to Pottermore, the wizarding currency in the US is a Dragot.**

 **2\. This is a PG-rated version of the exchange between Jan Valentine and Integra in Episode 2 of** ** _Hellsing Ultimate Abridged_** **. I thought that Jennifer would rein in her language a little, instead of saying what Integra does, which is "** ** _I'm sorry. We don't give a fuck._** **"**


	96. Kakistocracy Chapter 1

**Before I get to the preamble of this posted chapter, I have to say, thanks for the positive feedback for _One Flew into the Cuckoos' Nest_. Once I've written enough chapters, I'll post it as a full story. I've managed three so far, and hope to do at least four or five before posting. Anyway, onto this first chapter of _Kakistocracy_.**

 **This is me revisiting my attempt at doing a crossover with _Homestuck_. I had been struggling to do this for a while, until whitetigerwolf posted an (originally) unrelated challenge. 'Internet Buddies' was meant to be a _Sekirei_ crossover challenge where Harry befriended Matsu over the internet, only to Apparate to her by accident in a moment of danger. The challenge intrigued me mildly, and then, BLACK FLAME09 pointed out that the challenge could be applied, really, to many other fandoms. And that's when the moment of inspiration got to me. whitetigerwolf allowed me to use the basis of 'Internet Buddies' for a new _Homestuck_ crossover.  
**

 **This will take many elements not only from my previous attempt, _Ofiuco Amduat and the Goblet of Fire_ , but also an earlier iteration of another _Homestuck_ crossover I began with the same title as this story. Aside from the 'Internet Buddies' challenge, it also uses the 'Adopted Alien' challenge, also by whitetigerwolf, as you will see. And, as with _Ofiuco Amduat and the Goblet of Fire_ , this is a heavy AU to _Homestuck_ for various reasons. The Troll characters are recognisably those from the comic, and many elements are the same, but the backstory of Alternia is very different, and SBURB, SGRUB, etc don't exist. Alternia is just a crappy world because it is, not due to external influences. John, Dave, Rose and Jade won't be appearing in the story, and are, presumably, living relatively normal lives.**

 **Also, Harry and those in his year, along with the Trolls, have been aged up to 16. Oh, and the title was something I stumbled across on Wiktionary, meaning a government staffed by the most incompetent and unsuitable people for the role. Says a lot about Magical Britain, doesn't it?  
**

 **Anyway, enjoy.**

* * *

 _ **KAKISTOCRACY**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **THE TROLL WHO LIVED**

Harry Potter had once heard of the comparison between certain people and toadstools: namely fed bullshit and kept in the dark. At this point of time, he could sympathise with the toadstools, because that's what situation he was in. His sixteenth birthday had gone unremarked upon by his so-called relatives (for better or for worse), he had received little to none mail correspondence from his friends up to this point, and the only thing that stopped him from throwing out the Honeydukes chocolates he had been sent by them as birthday gifts was chatting with Hermione over the internet. And over a computer the Dursleys never realised he had…as it was his glasses.

You see, long before he had received the Hogwarts letter, Harry had some inkling of the fact that he could do magic, or something similar. In fact, he had this device, which he somehow knew was called a 'Captchalogue', which acted almost like, in retrospect, one of those inventory things from a video game. He could store things in what had to be a pocket dimension based on cards with pictures on them. In fact, he'd had a habit of storing things on them, including his Hogwarts things.

The glasses were, well, like a telepathic laptop. He only had to think, and he could surf the internet and go into chatrooms. Ever since the end of second year, he had been keeping in touch with Hermione via email and chat…and then, he discovered a weird chat program called Trollian. He and Hermione had gone on that after the end of their third year (Harry sending a copy of the program to Hermione's laptop), only to be confronted…well, by trolls. Well, at least at first. But over time, Harry had gotten used to them. Well, some of them.

He was currently walking through a park while chatting via Trollian. His best friend on that went by the name of gallowsCalibrator, or 'GC' for short. Harry had somehow been able to log in via a name called crazedCoatlscience, or CC. But he also considered a few others to be friends, like carcinoGeneticist, or CG, arsenicCatnip, or AC, though it took some time for the former, and the latter was a bit strange. Oh, and there was adiosToreador, or AT, and apocalypseArisen or AA, or cuttlefishCuller or the other CC (though when Harry began chatting, she called herself CCF, the 'F' standing for fuchsia for some reason).

 _TROLLIAN CHATLOG_

 _crazedCoatlscience [CC] has started trolling gallowsCalibrator [GC] and carcinoGeneticist [CG]_

 _CG: AND THAT IS WHY YOUR THINKPAN IS TERMINALLY BROKEN._

 _GC: PUT 4 SOCK 1N 1T, K4RK4T._

 _GC: OH! H3LLO H4RRY!_

 _CC: ISSIAUTNG(_ _1)_

 _CC: Hey, Terezi. Trouble in paradise?_

 _GC: NO, JUST K4RK4T B31NG STROPPY. :P_

 _CG: FUCK YOU AND THE HOOFBEAST YOU RODE IN ON, TEREZI!_

 _GC: NO TH4NKS, K4RK4T. TH4T WOULD B3 B3ST14L1TY. :P_

 _CG: YOU THINK YOU'RE SO BLOODY CLEVER?_

 _GC: 1 DON'T TH1NK 1 4M CL3V3R, K4RK4T. 1 KNOW 1 4M._

 _GC: YOU H4V3 TO B3 CL3V3R TO STUDY L4W._

 _CC: Am I interrupting anything?_

 _GC: NOTH1NG OF 1MPORT4NC3, H4RRY._

 _CG: NOTHING OF IMPORTANCE?! NOW LISTEN TO THE WORDS COMING OUT OF MY CHUTE!_

 _CC: Nice to talk to you too, Karkat._

 _CG: …FUCKING WHATEVER. HEY, HARRY, GOOD TO MEET YOU, BLAH BLAH BLAH. OH WELL, JUST AS WELL. TALKING TO THESE…DINGUSES? DINGII? WHAT'S THE PLURAL OF A DINGUS?_

 _CC: Umm, I dunno. But maybe Hermione could tell me what the collective noun is._

 _CC: Well, when she's able to chat with me again. Recently, she stopped chatting._

 _CC: Long story._

 _CC: I could make a guess. A clod of dinguses?_

 _CG: …I GUESS THAT WORKS. TALKING TO THIS CLOD OF DINGUSES IS ROTTING MY THINKPAN MORE THAN SOPOR SLIME ROTS GAMZEE'S._

(Harry frowned. It had gotten to the point where he had actually given out his actual name to these mysterious chatters, although that was partially because they used their own. He wondered where they were. Certainly the terms they used were odd.)

 _GC: Y34H, BUT YOUR TH1NKP4N ROTS 34S1LY, K4RK4T._

 _GC: PLUS, 4LL TH4T SW34R1NG C4N'T B3 GOOD FOR 1T. :]_

 _CG: STFU AND GTFO_

 _GC: OOH, SC4TH1NG. :P_

 _apocalypseArisen [AA] has joined the chat._

 _AA: 0h, harry, hell0. i didn't expect y0u t0 be here._

 _CC: Hey, Aradia. How's your little dig going?_

 _AA: fairly well, with s0llux's help. we haven't f0und much yet, th0ugh. is hermi0ne still ar0und? i have tried c0ntacting her myself, but she isn't resp0nding. i miss her, frankly._

 _CC: Long story._

(Aradia was one of the few on this chatroom Hermione got along with, and was one of the few who tried to email Hermione.)

 _CG: YEAH, YEAH, YOU SAY THAT ALL THE TIME, HARRY._

 _CG: IT'S GOTTEN BEYOND THE POINT WHERE IT'S MERELY AGGRAVATING, AND STARTING TO GET TO THE POINT OF PISSING ME OFF._

 _CG: WE'RE TALKING PUSHING BOUNDARIES HERE._

 _CC: HEY, I TRIED TO COME ON HERE TO CHAT WITH YOU GUYS, BECAUSE I DON'T HAVE ANYONE TO TALK TO!_

 _CC: INSTEAD, WE'VE GOT YOU ABUSING THE CAPSLOCK LIKE THERE'S NO TOMORROW!_

 _CC: HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE ON THE RECEIVING END?!_

 _CG: LIKE SOMEONE'S STEALING MY BLOODY SCHTICK._

(Harry snarled quietly in annoyance. Karkat lived to press buttons, even when he didn't mean to. The only reason why Harry put up with him was, when Karkat calmed down, he could at least be nice. He was just a sullen little SOB at times. That was why, when he got annoyed, Harry used all-caps himself.)

 _CC: BOOHOO, NUBS._

 _CC: ANYWAY, WHY DOES TEREZI CALL YOU THAT ANYWAY?!_

 _GC: B3C4US3 H3 H4S NUBBY L1TTL3 HORNS._

 _GC: W3 TOLD YOU TH1S._

 _AA: d0n't y0u have h0rns, harry?_

 _CC: What? No, Aradia. Seriously, why do you guys keep asking me this?_

 _CC: It's weird._

 _CC: Wait, why the hell is it getting cold?_

 _CC: …Oh shit…oh shit oh shit OH SHIT OH SHIT!_

 _CC: GTG, BRB, MM(_ _2)_ _!_

 _crazedCoatlscience [CC] has ceased trolling._

 _CG: …WHAT'S EATING HIM? JEGUS, I HOPE THAT ISN'T LITERAL. OR AT LEAST I HOPE HE GIVES WHATEVER IT IS FOOD POISONING._

 _AA: i d0n't kn0w. it sounded seri0us._

 _AA: and i h0pe s0mething isn't eating him._

 _AA: d0 y0u think he was right? that he d0esn't have h0rns?_

 _GC: W3LL, 31TH3R H3'S 4N 4L13N WHO SOM3HOW FOUND 4POLLO 4MDU4T(_ _3)_ _'S C4PTCH4LOGU3, OR…_

 _GC: W3LL, 1 D1DN'T WANT TO D1G 4NY FURTH3R 1NTO TH3 CAS3. YOU KNOW HOW TH3 COND3SC3 IS WH3N SOM3BODY ROCKS TH3 BO4T…_

* * *

The first bad sign was the cold. That was bad enough. The second bad sign, albeit unrelated, was that Dudley and his gang were coming up to him. The third bad sign was the sound of his mother screaming, and Voldemort snarling at her. The first and third bad signs were indicative of the presence of Dementors coming for him. The second was just compounding the issue.

He had to admit, he hated the Dursleys. Despite protesting to Dumbledore about his treatment at the Dursleys, Harry always was sent back here. It wasn't as bad as Azkaban, given Sirius' tales of it, but until he got his Hogwarts letter, he was treated little better than a House Elf, and it was only a little bit better since. He had his own bedroom, and the chores were reduced, as was the physical abuse, but that was about it. He was still the Dursleys' servant and verbal punching bag for too long in the year.

The Dementors started swooping on Dudley and the gang first. Harry tried to get his wand out to cast the Patronus, before a stab of pain jabbed through his head. He screamed out loud. The pain was bad, happening often around Dementors. And worse than that. They exacerbated his anger afterwards. He'd had some small anger problems for some time, but they had gotten worse after the incident involving Marge. That, and the nightmares that had plagued him.

It felt like something within him was trying to break free. Writhing against chains that had been there all his life. It felt like there were two knives being jabbed into his skull. Or, more accurately, like a pair of knives were breaking free from his skull.

He screamed again and again, the sounds of his pain creating a hideous chorus with the screams of his mother, the snarls of Voldemort, and the more real noises of Dudley and his gang making as they fought in vain against the Dementors, which, he realised, they couldn't even see. And even then, their noises trailed away into silence. A small but vocal part of him thought _Good_.

Suddenly, a dam broke. A blast of energy washed outwards from him, hitting the Dementors, the closest to him disintegrating. And as the flare of light vanished, the survivors noticed, much to their indignation, that Harry Potter had vanished. Their screeches of frustration echoed eerily throughout Little Whinging, striking terror into the hearts of all who heard those eldritch cries…

* * *

Through the darkened woods of another world entirely, a girl called Terezi Pyrope strode, rather pensively. Usually, she had a grin on her face, showing off a vast array of sharp teeth, but now, she was rather thoughtful, even worried.

She had to admit, she was worried about Harry. She had her suspicions about who Harry really was, that somehow, an alien had managed to find a means of joining Trollian. Personally, Terezi didn't mind. Harry seemed to need a friend, and Hermione, who had apparently been sent the program, seemed intelligent enough, though they kept things from her about whether they were alien or not. Then again, Aradia was the one who chatted with Hermione the most. It seemed that Sollux had some competition in being Aradia's Matesprit. Or maybe Hermione was just friends.

Aliens had different notions of friendship and romance to Trolls, Terezi knew. Before he mysteriously disappeared while on an expedition offworld, the heretic scientist Apollo Amduat had left a manifesto online, something Terezi, along with a few of her friends had read. She had to admit, as much as she wanted to join the Legislacerators, Amduat had a point. Troll society was fucked up, though their ideas of romance were not. Of course, with the Condesce in charge of Alternia, things were unlikely to change any time soon.

As she walked, Terezi savoured the smells and sounds of the forest where she made her home. For that was the thing, you see: Terezi Pyrope was blind. This had been thanks to revenge by Vriska Serket after she lost her arm after Terezi sent a package that drove Vriska's Lusus (a monstrous beast that acted as the guardian of a Troll as they grew up) mad, in revenge for Tavros' crippling. But Terezi had been trained by her own Lusus in how to make her way with sight and smell and hearing. Oh, and taste. She loved licking something to check the colours, her favourite colour of all being candy red.

Ah. She could smell something interesting and exciting in the air, like ozone. She wondered, what exactly was that?

She soon got her answer. There was a sudden thud onto the ground in front of her. It sounded like a body hitting the undergrowth. After a moment, she reached, and felt the body. Hmm, rather warm skin. She was definitely feeling a face, though it was a bit too warm, and where were the horns? Still, it was still alive, whatever it was. Seemed like a warm Troll without horns.

She sniffed. Was that blood she could smell? She licked his face, and blinked her sightless eyes. Was that **_red_** blood? But…there was no such blood colour. Trolls had a haemospectrum, a form of hierarchy based on blood colour, which determined a certain amount of psychic dominance over lesser castes. Terezi had teal blood, which put her fairly high up, though Equius and Eridan were the only ones who really cared about the haemospectrum in their circle of…friends, she guessed.

Then, she could taste something in the air. Something like…lemon sherbet. Or popping candy. And it seemed to be coming from the body in front of her. And then, something pungent filled the air, with the sound of screaming and ranting, like something Vriska would do when she was playing the villain in one of their FLARP sessions. When it died down, Terezi felt the body again, only to frown when she realised the skin had gotten cooler, and…there were horns now.

After a moment's consideration, Terezi, albeit with a little effort, picked the body up. "You're lucky you're a scrawny bugger," she muttered. "As it is, you still feel like a lead scarecrow…"

* * *

Pain. Everywhere was pain. As Harry came back to consciousness, he felt pain everywhere. Was this what life was like as a disembodied soul, trapped within the stomach of a Dementor? Being digested in the fetid bowels of those demons for all eternity?

Of course, when he opened his eyes, he found that notion sorely abused.

The room was a riot of colour. While the walls and floors themselves were dull colours, they had been livened up by decorations of various kinds. The rugs on the floor burned at his eyes like a bad acid trip, while there were childish scrawls of chalk on the walls. He saw one chalk drawing in particular, of a horned demonic figure seated at a lectern marked 'H1S HONOUR4BL3 TYR4NNY'. A computer sat on a nearby desk, and there were plushies of dragons with button eyes. He was seated on a beanbag or something similar, certainly with the same eye-burning riot of colour. Dumbledore would have loved the décor in this room.

It was the way that 'His Honourable Tyranny' was spelt that caught his eye most of all. He had seen that spelling before, being used by…

"Hey, you're awake!"

The voice was that of a girl, slightly nasal and a bit raspy, but a girl nonetheless. He resisted the urge to leap into the air and whirl to face her, instead turning slowly. And there she was, seated on another beanbag.

Harry couldn't help but stare. She looked like a slender girl about his age, dressed in black trousers and a black shirt, with said shirt having an astrological sign on it, specifically that of Libra, if he recalled correctly. She wore a pair of opaque red sunglasses, despite the fact that, as far as he could tell by looking out the window, it was night. She had quite a nice figure, actually, underneath the shirt.

But she certainly wasn't human. The grey skin was something of a giveaway. So too were the pair of short, twilight-coloured horns protruding from her forehead. And the mouth filled with sharp teeth, bordered by ink black lips.

"Umm, who are you?" Harry asked.

"Well, technically as a wannabe Legislacerator, I should be the one asking the questions. But, I'm in a kind of generous mood. I'm Terezi Pyrope. So, what's your name?"

"…Terezi?" Harry asked. "Is that really you? gallowsCalibrator?"

"Well, yeah, but I…hang on a moment. What's your name?"

After a moment, Harry admitted, "crazedCoatlscience. Or Harry Potter, if you prefer."

There was another rather more uncomfortable pause, and then, Terezi said, "You've got to be kidding me…and yet…I can't smell any deceit. And believe me, I'd know." She tapped her nose pointedly. "So…how the hell did you get here? Last time I was speaking to you, something had come up. You said something about being cold, and then you were swearing more than Karkat on a good day."

"Long story. But where am I? Are we still on Earth?"

Terezi seemed about to say something, before she reconsidered it with a sigh. "I should have known. Harry, is Earth your planet?"

"Well, yes, but…wait. Are we…are we on another world entirely?"

"Yep! Welcome to Alternia!" Terezi said with a grin. "Though maybe it should be more like, welcome **_back_** to Alternia!"

"…What?"

"Just a moment," Terezi said, hopping off the beanbag, and scrounging around in a nearby box. "I think I have one of my old mirrors. I don't really need one anymore. I'm blind, you see."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Then, Harry considered what she said, and then thought about what she had done so far. "But how did you…?"

"Harry, I can hear pretty damn well, I can smell things you can't, and taste, well…colours. Let's put it this way: my computer screen's covered in saliva."

Harry looked over at it, and noticed trails of what looked like snail tracks on the screen. "Ah. I see."

"Yep. AHA!" This exclamation was due to her pulling a mirror free, and she walked over to Harry and handed it over. Harry took it reluctantly (though he had to admire that she acted as if she could see properly), and looked into it, dreading what he would see.

The face was his. So was the messy mop of hair. His scar had faded somewhat, but was still visible, snaking out from beneath his fringe. And his eyes…well, the irises were still the emerald green from his mother.

And yet, his skin was grey. His sclera, the whites of his eyes, were now a light orange. And he had horns now. Bigger than Terezi's, like lightning bolts pointing out from his hair. Whatever he was, he wasn't human anymore.

"Sorry if this is bad news, Harry, but, well, whatever you were before, shortly after coming here, you became one of us. You're now a Troll. Or maybe you always were one…"

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **And on that bombshell, good night!**

 **Okay, those who have read the sample chapters of** ** _Ofiuco Amduat and the Goblet of Fire_** **in** ** _The Cauldron_** **will be pleased to note that I will be including elements from that. And don't worry, all will be explained soon.**

 **Incidentally, I will be explaining terms used in** ** _Homestuck_** **when necessary, mostly through exposition in the story itself.**

 **Anyway, for those unfamiliar with** ** _Homestuck_** **, each Troll has a distinctive typing style. Karkat uses caps for all his typing. Terezi replaces the letters 'A', 'I', and 'E' with '4', '1', and '3' respectively, both as a form of l33tspeek, as well as a reference to the '413' arc number that appears throughout** ** _Homestuck_** **. Aradia doesn't bother with capitalisation (though here, she uses more punctuation than she does in canon), and replaces 'O' with '0'.**

 **In addition, here's a term that haven't been explained, but needs explaining. A Captchalogue is a means of creating an inventory much like one in a video game. Harry has a very vanilla one that allows him to get what he wants or needs when he wants it, but there are a variety of ones used in Homestuck. The human Captchalogues are mostly based on computing data structures (John uses stacks, Dave uses hash maps, Rose uses trees, while Jade, instead of using data structures, uses variations on board game rules like Pictionary), while the Trolls have even weirder ones. Terezi, due to her blindness, uses 'scratch and sniff', believe it or not. Karkat, in the comic at least, uses an unwieldy encryption system. Aradia, due to being dead in the comic (it's complicated), uses an Ouija Board.**

 **1\. The Trolls each have their own way of posting in a chatroom, so I decided Harry would have his own greetings and farewells while spelling properly. This stands for 'I Solemnly Swear I Am Up To No Good'.**

 **2\. 'MM' stands for 'Mischief Managed', of course. The others are standard internet/texting abbreviations that should be known.**

 **3\. Apollo Amduat was my Troll OC for** ** _Ofiuco Amduat and the Goblet of Fire_** **. More on him and his nomenclature later.**


	97. Kakistocracy Chapter 2

_**KAKISTOCRACY**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **MEETING IRL**

Harry had, rather understandably, been rather morose and shocked at that revelation. In some similar situations, Terezi might have laughed. But she had grown to like Harry during their time chatting over Trollian, and so, she decided to go to Trollian, or rather, their private, Apollo Amduat-related chatroom. She licked the screen, and nodded. Aradia and Sollux were on, along with Karkat and Nepeta.

 _gallowsCalibrator [GC] has started trolling apocalypseArisen [AA], twinArmageddons [TA], carcinoGeneticist [CG], and arsenicCatnip [AC]._

 _GC: SORRY FOR B31NG 4FK, GUYS. BUT 1'VE GOT SOM3 1NT3R3ST1NG N3WS._

 _TA: iintere2tiing? iin what way?_

 _AC: :33 Yes, tell us! Fur goodness' sake, don't leave us in suspense._

 _CG: PROBABLY HAD ONE OF THOSE STUFFED TOYS SHE LYNCHED COME BACK TO LIFE AND TRY TO EAT HER._

 _GC: …H3H3H3, TH4T W4S 4CTU4LLY PR3TTY FUNNY, NUBS._

 _GC: BUT NO, S3R1OUSLY, 1 GOT A V1S1TOR._

 _GC: B3L13V3 1T OR NOT, 1T'S H4RRY!_

 _AA: …what?_

 _TA: um, terezii, are you out of your 2ponge or 2omethiing?_

 _CG: YEAH, I'VE GOT BULLSHIT ON SPEED-DIAL. I'M CALLING BULLSHIT NOW._

 _AC: :33 Terezi, do you have purroof? Can we use the video chat?_

 _GC: 1F 1T'LL G3T YOU TO B3L13V3 M3, Y34H. JUST 4 W4RN1NG, THOUGH. H3'S JUST B33N THROUGH 4 LOT. SOLLUX, WOULD YOU OP3N UP TH3 V1D3O CH4T ON MY 3ND?_

 _TA: yeah, yeah. jegu2, make me do the hoofbea2t work…_

* * *

"Hey, Harry," Terezi called over from where she was seated at her computer screen. Harry, who had been trying to make sense of what had been going on, looked up. "Sollux is opening up the video chat. He wants to say hi, along with Karkat, Aradia, and Nepeta. Come over here a moment. Oh, wait." With her sleeve, she rubbed some of the saliva trails off the screen. "Better?"

"A bit." Suddenly, a quartet of windows popped up on the screen, each showing a different Troll. Two boys, two girls, about his age.

" _Whoa!_ " one of them yelped, a boy with four horns and a pair of glasses with two different-coloured lenses: one red, the other blue. His shirt had the symbol for Gemini, something Harry only knew because of his aunt's obsession with horoscopes. And when he spoke, it was with something of a lisp. " _Ith thith really Harry?_ "

" _Bullshit!_ " snapped another one, who, judging by the belligerent tone, had to be Karkat. He had messy hair, short horns, and a scowl on his face. The symbol of his shirt was for Cancer. " _Terezi just scrounged up some weirdo bum from somewhere. Or maybe this is one of Vriska's little jokes._ "

"Bite me, Karkat," Harry snarked. "Or should I call you Nubs?"

" _Hey, you told us you didn't have horns!_ " Karkat retorted. " _You can't be Harry!_ "

"He didn't have them when he first arrived, you idiot," Terezi snapped. "I was there when he arrived from…well, some planet called Earth. Somehow, they grew out after he arrived. Anyway, I couldn't smell any deceit from him. Hell, I could smell the surprise on him when he realised he was a Troll."

Another of the Trolls frowned. It was a girl with a large mane of curly, messy hair, her horns also curly, like a ram's. Her symbol was Ares. " _So, you believe that's Harry?_ " she asked.

"I _know_ it is, Aradia," Terezi said.

Harry waved, uneasily. "Hey. So, you're Aradia…and I know that has to be Karkat…so is that you, Sollux, with the 3D glasses?"

" _Uh, I dunno what you mean by that, but yeth, I am Tholluxth._ "

" _And I'm Nepeta!_ " chirped the last of the Trolls, a girl with unkempt black hair, mostly hidden by a cat-faced blue hood. Her horns were almost like cat ears, and her mouth bore a cat-like smile. Her symbol was for Leo.

Harry stared at the screen. "All this time, Hermione and I have been talking to aliens. Bloody aliens. I mean, we have trolls back home, but they're big, ugly, dumb things. You're basically, well, humans with horns and grey skin."

"Hey, Harry," Terezi said. "Do you happen to have a photo or anything of yourself as a human or whatever you call yourself?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah," Harry said. He kept a photo of himself, Hermione, and Ron, taken in the Hospital Wing at the end of the previous school year, taken by Colin Creevey. He fished it out of the Captchalogue, and showed it to the screen.

Aradia blinked as she looked at the photo. " _Hmm…I see. Apart from the pink skin, variety of hair colour, and lack of horns, humans look very similar to us. But why is the picture moving?_ "

 _Oh shit_ , Harry cursed inwardly. He hadn't thought of that. "Long story. Anyway, that's me with the glasses, obviously. The girl is Hermione. And the redhead is Ron Weasley, a friend of ours from school."

" _Jegus, you look like something the cat dragged in and pissed all over_ ," Karkat muttered.

"I had just been in a fight for my life. Long story short, I am famous because a terrorist tried to kill me when I was young. He screwed up, even though he managed to kill my parents."

" _Parents? Do you mean Lusii or something?_ " Aradia asked.

"Uhh, anyway, I became famous, but I was raised by some pretty nasty relatives. I didn't know I was famous until I was twelve."

"Wait, you're over twelve sweeps old?" Terezi asked incredulously.

"Umm, no, I'm sixteen _years_ old. Oh, wait. A sweep might be different to a year back home. How long do Trolls live?"

" _It varies between Trolls of differing blood colours_ ," Aradia said. " _You appear to be about the same age as us, and we are over seven sweeps old._ " She shook her head. " _It has to be Harry. No Troll could possibly be this ignorant without being culled._ "

"…Well, there's Nubs," Terezi smirked.

" _Screw you, Terezi!_ " Karkat snapped.

"Okay, I'm more than a little lost here," Harry said. "I mean, it's nice to meet you guys and all, but I'm at sea here."

After a moment, Aradia said, " _Hey, Terezi, do you mind if Sollux and I come over? I want to see whatever Harry has in his Captchalogue up close._ "

"Sure! It's been a while since I've had a sleepover! What about you, Karkat?"

" _Oh sure, I'll come over for a sleepover with an unknown Troll you claim to be Harry, I DON'T think!_ " Karkat snapped. " _I'm going to feed my Lusus. Then, I'm going to sleep in my pod. Hopefully, this is just some stupid dream caused by the slime._ " With that petulant remark, he shut down the video chat window showing him.

" _As lovely as it sounds, Terezi, I'm going to have to decline_ ," Nepeta said. " _I promised Equius I'd come visit soon. Sorry. Don't worry, I won't say anything about Harry. But it was purrfectly nice talking to you, Harry! See ya!_ "

The video chat windows closed up, and Terezi sighed. "Well, that went well. Well, as well as it could have been with Nubby being a little twerp."

"Is he _ever_ in a good mood?" Harry asked.

"Not often." Terezi sighed. "We're probably gonna have to bring you up to speed. First things first, Harry. Your username, crazedCoatlscience, is actually the username of another Troll. We stumbled across a tract of his on the internet. His real name was Apollo Amduat. He is, well, was a scientist who was somewhat infamous here on Alternia. The status quo here isn't nice. If you really did grow up on another world, it's probably very different there. Anyway, Apollo disappeared on his way to a planet to investigate. Rumour had it that our ruler, Her Imperious Condescension, ordered him assassinated. Given what he wrote in his manifesto, it's hardly surprising. It wouldn't surprise me if either he ended up on Earth, or his Captchalogue did. His manifesto claimed that our method of reproducing was resulting in genetic stagnation, and wanted to try out methods of artificially incubating children."

"Umm…okay, so what's wrong with your method?"

Terezi shrugged. "Well, buckets are involved. And, as you like to say, long story."

Harry grimaced. Sex via buckets? Yeah, that sounded like a very long story. He (discreetly, he hoped) groped his groin to make sure everything was still there. Well, it felt normal. Though very little in this situation was.

And that's when it occurred to him. He was on another world. Light years, at least, from home. So how the hell was he going to get back to stop Voldemort? And, for that matter, how was he going to explain away this?

Suddenly, his glasses trilled. It was a signal from Hermione, or at least when someone wanted to chat via Trollian. He sighed, before opening up the chatroom.

 _crazedCoatlscience [CC] has started trolling giftedAthena [GA]_

 _CC: ISSIAUTNG._

 _GA: Harry! Where are you?_

 _GA: Dumbledore and the others, they're looking for you!_

 _CC: Hermione, breathe. I'm okay._

 _GA: I don't need to breathe while typing. Well, I don't need to pause for breath._

 _GA: GAH! I was so worried about you! It took a while before I could get enough privacy to try and contact you. Well, aside from Sirius. He's sitting right next to me. He says 'hi', by the way._

 _CC: Hi, Padfoot._

 _CC: Anyway, what's the big deal about keeping me in the dark during the summer?_

 _GA: Look, Dumbledore told us to not send you any letters. He was worried Voldemort might be able to trace where they've gone._

 _GA: That's why Hedwig didn't come back to you the last time you tried sending a letter to Sirius._

 _GA: I'm sorry._

 _CC: …Okay. I'll admit, I'm more than a little annoyed._

 _CC: But at least you tried to keep in touch via chat anyway, even if you still kept me in the dark._

 _CC: It's a moot point now._

 _CC: Anyway, what the hell happened? A bunch of Dementors swooped in out of the blue!_

 _GA: it's sirius here, harry. look, your guess is as good as mine._

 _GA: the first we heard about it was when all sorts of alarms dumbledore was monitoring went off over at the dursleys._

 _GA: then, arthur heard about you getting a hearing at the ministry of magic for using magic in front of a muggle._

 _GA: Hermione here again, Harry. Listen, the Ministry has been badmouthing you and Dumbledore in the Daily Prophet._

 _GA: Fudge refuses to believe Voldemort is back, and so he's running a character assassination on you._

 _gallowsCalibrator [GC] has joined the chat._

 _GC: SO, 1S TH1S 4 PR1V4T3 CONV3RS4T1ON, OR C4N 4NYON3 JO1N?_

 _GA: Terezi? Is that you?_

 _GC: Y34H. H4RRY'S W1TH M3. LOOK, YOU'R3 GONN4 F1ND TH1S H4RD TO B3L13V3, SO, W3LL, DO YOU H4V3 V1D3O CH4T ON YOUR L4PTOP?_

 _GA: …Yes. Why?_

 _CC: Terezi, I don't want her to see me…_

 _GC: DO YOU TRUST H3R, H4RRY?_

 _CC: …I did before._

 _GA: …Please, Harry. I want to help. So does Sirius. I promise I won't say anything._

Harry didn't want Hermione or Sirius to see him like this. However, Terezi muttered, "Might as well get this over and done with." She fiddled around with the keys, on the computer, before she said, "There we go, don't need Sollux!"

Harry, who had disengaged Trollian on his glasses, still turned away from the screen. However, he heard Hermione gasp. " _Oh my God. Is…is that really you, Terezi?_ "

"Yeah. Wow, your hair is even bushier than it was in that photo. And you must be Sirius, Harry's godfather."

" _Of course. But who are you? What are you? I mean, Hermione said that this 'chatroom' thing is like a telephone call, but with computers. But you're not human._ "

"Of course I'm not, I'm a Troll!" Terezi snapped irritably.

A pause, before Sirius said, " _Pull the other one. You're too cute and eloquent to be a troll._ "

Terezi sighed in irritation. "And you're a hairy idiot. Seriously, what's with all that hair on your face? You look like Gamzee after he's scrawled on his own face with marker pen." She sighed. "Anyway, whenever this hearing is, Harry's not going to make it. I don't know how he got here, but we're on another planet, called Alternia. And well…" Terezi turned to Harry. "Come on, Harry. Show them."

Harry reluctantly turned to face the screen, and saw Hermione gasp in horror. Sirius was just staring. " _Harry…what happened to you?_ " Hermione asked.

"I don't know! I…just don't know, Hermione," Harry said.

Hermione ran a hand through her hair. " _Well, this is NOT going to go down well even if you did make it to the Ministry._ "

Sirius narrowed his eyes. " _When did we first meet?_ "

Harry blinked, before he said, "Well…it was near Privet Drive…though I thought you were a big dog. I raised my wand to try and scare you away, and the Knight Bus came along."

" _Okay, it's him, I'm pretty sure. Though there's something about this…I don't know, it seems vaguely familiar. I just can't remember_ …" Sirius muttered.

"Wait, wand? What do you mean, wand?" Terezi asked.

There was a knock on the door to Terezi's house. "Terezi? We're here," came the voice of Aradia.

"Okay! Hey, Harry, go and let them in, right?"

Harry nodded, and wandered over to the door, opening it. He didn't realise where exactly the house was until he opened the door. But he soon learned that they were in a literal treehouse, a house high up in a tree, a tree that had, he noticed, a number of those dragon stuffed toys hanging from nooses.

There, waiting near a crude elevator, was Sollux and Aradia. Aradia, after looking him up and down, smiled. "Good to see you in person, Harry."

"Thanks, Aradia. How did you get here so fast, though?"

"Appearifyer," Sollux said. "Teleportathion of a thort. Jeguth, you know thod-all about our thothiety, don't you?"

"Gimme a break. Until a short while ago, I thought I was human. Anyway, Hermione's on video chat."

"You're coping very well with learning you're a Troll, Harry," Aradia said as they entered the house.

"Don't worry, once I get a handle on the moment, I'll start screaming," Harry said, utterly serious.

As Hermione saw them enter, she said, " _And you two are?_ "

"It's me, Aradia," Aradia said with a smile. "And this is Sollux. Nice to see you, Hermione."

"Huh. Tho, that'th really Hermione?" Sollux asked. "Who'th the hairy one?"

" _I'm Harry's dogfather, Sirius Black._ "

"Dogfather?" Aradia asked. "Is that some sort of Lusus?"

Suddenly, Harry had his glasses taken off by Sollux. "Hey, what gives?"

"Thorry, I jutht wanted to thee your glatheth," Sollux said, peering at them from behind his own glasses. "Thethe are definitely Alternian Data-Glatheth, and one of the few that doethn't exthplode in your fathe. That'th why I never got one. That, and my powerth would play merry havoc with them. Telepathic interfathe, too. I'm checking it now. Huh, that'th weird. There theemth to be an unknown program, but it'th being blocked by thomething thtrange. I'll remove it."

" _Is that wise, Sollux?_ " Hermione asked.

Terezi shrugged. "What's the worst it could do?"

"Explode in his face," Harry said, deadpan.

"It won't exthplode. I'm a profethional," Sollux said, not arrogantly but certainly confidently as he concentrated on it. "Now, let'th thee…what the…?!"

That was all the warning they had before the glasses exploded. Or rather, they seemed to. There was certainly a sudden strobe of light and a surge of immense pain in their heads. But the Trolls (and even the humans on the other side of the chat link) felt knowledge being shoved into their head at an extraordinary rate. It could have driven them mad, but it didn't.

Then, as they shook their heads to rid themselves of the pain and disorientation, they heard a voice, an electronically-warped voice. " _REBOOT COMPLETED. Oh, thank Jegus for that. Seriously, imagine spending fifteen years inside a crate wrapped in a straitjacket, and with a ball gag stuffed in your mouth. Not a pleasant image, is it?_ "

"Pleathe don't menthion any kinkth Equiuth would enjoy. I can't handle the weirdneth on top of it," Sollux groused, before he looked up, as did the others. The four gathered Trolls, and the humans on the video chat, stared in astonishment at the extraordinary figure in front of them.

He was definitely an adult Troll, tall, lanky, and with dark hair, from which poked a pair of lightning-shaped horns. His eyes were hidden beneath silvered glasses, and his smile was wide, and not quite sane, not helped by the needle-sharp teeth in it. His costume was even more bizarre. The coat he wore was a patchwork riot of colour that hurt the eyes, like a rainbow that had dysentery. Under the coat, he wore a dark shirt with a strange symbol, like a 'U' with a wavy line crossing it(1).

Harry only barely noticed Sirius muttering, " _Him…but how can I have forgotten him?_ "

" _Oh, don't blame yourself, Padfoot!_ " the apparition said with a grin. " _Blame a certain old meddler! Anyway, allow me to introduce myself!_ " A fanfare blasted from nowhere, and the Troll said, " _I am Doctor Apollo Amduat! Well, what's left of him, anyway, a digital ghost sealed in those glasses! And I have come back to help my son and heir! You may know him as Harry Potter, but his birth name is Ofiuco Amduat!_ " Apollo Amduat spread his arms. " _Give Daddy a hug, Ofiuco!_ "

At which point Harry, his brain unable to take any more strain, fainted.

* * *

The digital ghost of Apollo Amduat frowned as his son fainted. " _Was it something I said?_ "

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, we've had the introduction of Apollo, as well as some of the Trolls' reactions to Harry being one of them, and vice versa.**

 **Firstly, some comment on the Trolls. Sollux, I gave a lisp, because he has one in a particularly good fandub of one of the chatlogs from the webcomic. I'm not mocking him, and the other Trolls won't, though it's hinted the lisp is canon, as during a chat, Terezi pronounces his name with a lisp.**

 **Aradia seems rather subdued, but I'm yet to read up to the parts where she is revived, so while not as dour and fatalistic as she is when dead, she's still not as enthusiastic.**

 **Apollo Amduat is an OC Troll character that I thought up for** ** _Ofiuco Amduat and the Goblet of Fire_** **. As with all Troll names, his first name and surname are six letters each, and is related to his Zodiac sign, which is Ophiuchus (Ophiuchus is a snake being wrangled by someone, presumably Asclepius, Apollo is associated with snakes and Asclepius, who is his son, and Amduat is the serpentine symbol of the existence of creation before the gods arose in Egyptian mythology). While one of the Cherubs (Calliope, I think) has Ophiuchus in** ** _Homestuck_** **canon, here, it is the Amduat family. He is basically a mad scientist, and I will discuss the inspirations for him in the annotation below.**

 **1\. I basically envisioned Apollo as looking somewhat like a Troll version of Hiroto Minaka from** ** _Sekirei_** **, albeit wearing the Sixth Doctor's coat. In terms of personality, I looked for a blend of Yttral, the eccentric Dalek scientist from the webcomic** ** _Second Empire_** **(which I fully recommend to any Whovians) and Autochthon, the Primordial from** ** _Exalted_** **, specifically how he was portrayed in the hilarious** ** _Mass Effect_** **crossover** ** _Glorious Shotgun Princess_** **by Gregg Landsman. The 'U' with the wriggly line in it is the symbol of Ophiuchus.**


	98. Per Vola Su Nata (Original) Chapter 1

**Well, this one comes from a rather bizarre hybrid of two of whitetigerwolf's challenges, the 'Tamaran Contract' challenge and the 'Potter/Trinity' challenge. I wanted to do a story pairing Harry with Kara Zor-El (Supergirl, in other words) in the style of megamatt09, and I wanted to do a story pairing Harry with Koriand'r, aka Starfire. This story will do both. It's also going to have no Dumbledore-bashing either: I'll be honest, I'm a little tired of writing Dumbledore-bashing fics for the moment.**

 **The phrase is not Latin, but Italian, coming from Dante Aligheri's Divine Comedy, and means 'born to soar', an apt description of Kara and Kori's powers.**

 **EDIT (22/7/2017): I've decided I'm not going forward with this version of the fic. Another fic under the same name, with a strict Harry/Kori pairing (no Kara) and set during Year 5, will be worked on and published in _The Cauldron_. Watch this space...**

* * *

 ** _PER VOLA SU NATA (ORIGINAL)_  
**

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **THE WITCH, THE WIZARD, AND THE KRYPTONIAN**

On the grounds of Hogwarts, near the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, a pair of teenagers were waiting. One, a glasses-wearing boy of about fifteen, with messy dark hair and emerald eyes, a lightning bolt-shaped scar zig-zagging out from beneath his fringe. The other, a bushy-haired girl of about the same age, perhaps older, with a bossy demeanour. "I still don't get why we're out here, after curfew," the girl said as she set up privacy charms.

"Hermione…I trust you. You're my friend. I thought Ron was too, but…well, he wouldn't understand this, even if he wasn't jealous. He might blab."

"But why the big secret? I know you've known this Kara girl since you ran into her a year ago. And you went on a vacation with her before the Weasleys picked you up from the Dursleys. Not to mention that laptop…seriously, I didn't think WayneTech had a laptop shielded against magic. I'm grateful you managed to get another one for me, mind, but still…why?"

"You'll see," Harry said. "I was surprised when I learned of this too."

"But she's a Muggle. How would she know where Hogwarts is?"

"Like I said before, Hermione, she has her secrets. She's not a Muggle per se, anyway."

"How right you are."

The voice nearly had Hermione leap into the air, not least because it came from above them. She looked up, and couldn't help but stare. After all, it wasn't every day that one saw a teenaged girl flying right above them, all but silhouetted against the star-speckled sky. Okay, they were in Hogwarts, but the girl wasn't even riding a broom.

She seemed to be dressed in a blue and red long-sleeved leotard, with red boots and a red cape(1). Across her chest was emblazoned a symbol, what looked like a stylized 'S' in a wedge-like frame. Blonde hair framed stunningly beautiful features, which were currently set in an amused smirk as she gently floated down, landing in front of them. Harry and the newcomer promptly embraced, even kissing briefly.

After a moment, Hermione, struggling not to scream in surprise or astonishment, managed to get her brain into working condition once more. "Okay, I think I'm insane now," she said quietly. "I did _not_ just see you kiss Supergirl."

"You're not insane, Hermione," Harry said gently. "This is really Supergirl."

Kara stepped forward, and gently shook Hermione's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Harry's told me a lot about you. If you wish, you may call me Kara."

"Kara?" Hermione asked.

"My full name…well, back home," she said, her face falling at the reminder, "it was Kara Zor-El. Supergirl's just what the press dubbed me, because Superman's my cousin. We're amongst the few survivors of Krypton."

Hermione nodded. "It's a pleasure to meet you too, Kara. Sorry about that, it's just that I've never met a superhero before, never mind one of the Titans."

"Well, most of us _are_ in the US," Kara said. She looked over at Harry. "Anyway, you said in our last chat before I could arrange a time that you'd been pressganged into some tournament they're holding. I couldn't come here sooner because we were having trouble with a certain mercenary."

"Deathstroke?"

"Yeah. Plus, Kori's still settling in." On Hermione's look, Kara clarified, "That's Starfire. Her name's Koriand'r, and she's a Tamaranean. Nice girl, very nice, but a bit clueless when it comes to Earth things. I picked up things somewhat quicker than she did, though admittedly, I had my cousin's help."

"Hey, when we first met, you were still stumbling over your English," Harry said. "Not to mention avoiding your cousin and his parents."

"And you were staying as much out of your house as you could because of that aunt of yours," she said, folding her arms underneath her chest.

"Yeah, but at least your relatives care about you," Harry retorted.

Kara sighed, conceding the point. "True. Anyway, what seems to be the problem?"

Harry then began to explain his problems, in brief. About a week ago, there was the selection of chosen representatives of three wizarding schools to compete in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. A fourth Champion, however, unexpectedly came out of the Goblet of Fire: Harry's name. Supposedly, he was obligated to compete via magical contract.

Most of the school believed that somehow, Harry had cheated his way in, including his supposed best friend, Ron. Dumbledore and Professor Moody believed that someone else had entered Harry's name, but they were in the minority, along with Hermione. And the only information Harry had about the upcoming First Task was that he needed to face it alone, with only his wand.

Kara leaned against a nearby tree. "Well, you're in a pickle, and no mistake, Harry. Though you haven't told us much that we haven't found out already. When Constantine told me, he did some digging around, and so did Zatanna. Sad thing is, you need to be a really powerful wizard to trick an artifact like the Goblet of Fire. What's more, the Goblet would probably make a contract to you based on intent. So, while you may not have intended to enter this, whoever entered you intended to do so. This is pretty old and powerful magic, apparently: neither Constantine or Zatanna want to touch that with a ten-foot pole. Tampering with it the wrong way could rob you of your magic, if not outright kill you. Or level Hogwarts."

"What about Raven?" Hermione asked. "I thought she was a witch herself."

"Wrong kind of magic, Hermione," Kara said patiently, before looking back at Harry. "That being said, if you want, I can have you brought over to Jump City so that you can train with us on weekends, as long as there's no missions. Raven may not use your type of magic, but she can help you refine its use. Plus, Robin can help you with more mundane physical training."

"Anything else?" Harry asked.

Kara nodded. "Actually, I've saved the best until last. Constantine's been keeping his ears to the ground. He's pretty sure he's found out what the First Task involves. Apparently he heard from someone in a bar…well, he called it a pub, that they may be transporting dragons to Hogwarts. He's done some sniffing around, and apparently they need dragons transported here by no later than the 24th."

"That's the date of the First Task," Harry groaned. "So dragons are involved?"

"Probably. Look, I can't swear to it: Constantine was getting it out of a drunk, but…"

"It's not surprising," Hermione said, though her scowl showed she didn't want it to be so. "I've done research on the Tri-Wizard Tournament myself, and a popular task is to set the Champions against a magical creature with a level of XXXX or greater. So facing off against a dragon is plausible, even if it is insane."

"Oh, you're _good_ ," Kara said with a smile. "You remind me a little of Batgirl. She's got a mind like yours, loves to research as much as she loves fighting crime. You'd probably get along well with her. Anyway, like I said, the offer's there. You want to take it?"

Harry, after a moment, nodded, a little hesitantly. "I dunno whether I'd be able to keep up to you guys physically or magically, but…"

"Harry, it's fine. Not all of us are Kryptonians or shapeshifters or trained by a paranoid vigilante wearing a bat costume," Kara said, before looking at Hermione. "Hell, you can come along if you want too. Zatanna's going to try to be there if nothing's turned up for the Justice League to handle. Just keep an eye on the chat feed for it, okay?" She handed a piece of paper over to Harry. "This is a Portkey to Titans Tower in Jump City. Keep it safe. The activation phrase is 'Titans Go'."

"Gotcha," Harry said. "By the way, any word from Padfoot or Moony?"

"They're both being vetted by the Justice League as we speak. Don't worry, they'll be fine."

"I'm not exactly reassured. Please tell me Batman isn't interrogating them."

"No, just the Martian Manhunter," Kara said. "Look, I'd better get back. I don't want you two to get into trouble for being out this late. Hopefully, I can talk to you some more, Hermione." She hugged the bushy-haired girl, before she then laid a kiss on Harry's lips, a gentle kiss. "See you later, Harry," she said.

"See you later, Kara," Harry said with a goofy smile and a blush. Then, Kara soared into the starlit skies.

Hermione watched her go with her eyes, and then looked at Harry. "Your girlfriend is Supergirl," she said flatly.

"And some of the others. When Kara took me over to the US earlier this year, I met the Titans, and a few of the Justice League. Yes, that means Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman, amongst others."

"Wow. And…they're fine with me coming along?"

"Kara knows you're my friend. At worst, they'll have Miss Martian have a look through your mind, that's it," Harry said. "Anyway, besides Batgirl, you'd probably click with Raven. She loves books, and as long as you don't pester her with too many questions, she's fine to be around."

Hermione nodded absently. Her head was whirling. "You've met the Titans and the Justice League. I'm actually a bit jealous."

"Not enough to not speak with me? You know, like Ron is doing?" Harry asked wryly.

"Of course not! It's just…even before I learned I was a witch, I loved the tales I heard about Superman and Batman and Wonder Woman…" Hermione shook her head. "Never mind. If Kara doesn't mind me being a gooseberry, then I'd love to meet the other Titans."

"Great," Harry said, his smile reassuring his friend that she wouldn't be in the way.

Harry didn't tell Hermione, or indeed any of his friends, but lately, he'd been feeling…odd. Well, beyond having these dreams of Voldemort that weren't quite dreams, he was sure.

It had started after the Dementor swarm at the end of last year. It was as if their attempts to eat his soul had loosened… _something_. Like there was something within him, struggling to break free. He wasn't sure what, but he found himself yearning for more sunlight. Sometimes, he felt like he could fly, fly fast, fly forever. He actually envied Kara. She could fly by herself, and not need a broomstick. Hell, so many of the Titans and the Justice League could fly by themselves. In fact, he wanted to find a spell that would allow him to fly alongside Kara, without a broomstick.

After spending some time with the Titans, Harry had made the resolution that he wanted to join them later. And after the attitude of the school towards him lately, he was tempted to see if he could drop out, train with the Titans, and come back long enough to deal with Voldemort before heading back.

Harry sighed quietly to himself as they headed back to the castle under the Invisibility Cloak. And here he was, hoping for a quiet year…

* * *

Not long afterwards, Kara landed on the roof of the Titans Tower. She was still getting used to the full extent of her powers, fuelled by the light of the Earth's yellow sun. Her cousin had his childhood and adolescence to get used to it, but Kara hadn't been on Earth that long, a little over a year at the most. She had expected to become his babysitter, but thanks to her ship encountering an anomaly in space, she ended up on Earth by the time her cousin was in his early thirties. So he was babysitting her.

Entering the Tower, keying in the security codes needed and submitting to the biometric scans, she made her way to the rec room, to find Kori and Rachel discussing something. Koriand'r, aka Starfire, orange-skinned, red-haired, her irises a dark emerald on lighter green sclera. She was dressed in what could be described as purple short shorts and a similarly-coloured top(2). And Rachel Roth, aka the Raven, dark-haired, grey-skinned, purple of hair and eye, usually having an impassive expression on her face, though she had a certain amount of interest in her face for once (which was unusual, considering it was Kori speaking). She was dressed in a dark leotard, with a hooded cape over that.

"…Do not know whether it is the same thing," Kori said, "but we have a similar sort of thing on Tamaran. Indeed, I have heard there is a dormant marriage contract between my family and an apparently-extinct one. I say apparently because there was no confirmed death of the last of the family's line. Indeed, if they survived, they would be in this sector of space. I only learned this when I went to the local magical enclave, and got approached by the Goblins. Apparently they had an old copy of the contract. It only activates if two Tamaraneans are present on Earth."

"An arranged marriage?" Rachel asked. "That's a bit old-fashioned."

"True, but sometimes, it happens on Tamaran, as a matter of political manoeuvring, I believe," Kori said. "If there is a survivor of compatible age and gender, then I would be obligated to wed them. Or my sister." The usually cheerful Tamaranean's face fell at the thought of her treacherous sister, the one who had sold her into slavery.

"Hey, Rachel, don't the idiots in some magical communities still practise that marriage contract crap?" Kara asked.

Rachel nodded. "MACUSA's pretty conservative. And so's Magical Britain. Speaking of which, how's Harry?"

"Yes, tell us, Kara!" Kori said, looking for all the world like an eager puppy in the form of a teenaged girl (though Tamaraneans were actually descended from felines, not that you'd notice).

"He's holding up as well as he can expect. Told him what Constantine and Zatanna managed to dig up. Met that Hermione girl of his," Kara said. "She'll probably come over with him when he comes to train. Anything from the League about those two wizards?"

"We haven't heard. I'm guessing that the League will have to contact MACUSA about giving Sirius Black asylum," Rachel said. "I doubt we can get him exonerated in Britain, not with that corrupt moron Fudge in charge. At least MACUSA tolerates us, if only barely." She punctuated this last sentence with a habitual roll of the eyes.

And that, sadly, was the case. More than once, the Justice League and the Titans had butted heads with MACUSA, along with other super-powered individuals and vigilantes. It was actually refreshing for Harry to be as…if not humble, then at least as not full-of-himself as many other wizards and witches of that form of magic were. And Hermione was similar to Harry in that regard.

Still, Kara was concerned for her boyfriend. He may not have been a Titan, but he already had his own arch-nemesis, and that wasn't exactly a good thing by any metric…especially now that he was trapped in this Tournament. Hopefully, with their training, he would be able to survive.

She hoped.

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry's introduced Hermione to a super girlfriend, and we have some foreshadowing.**

 **1\. While the character is based more on the iteration from the Jeph Loeb stories, her costume is based on that in her New 52 appearance.**

 **2\. Starfire's costume here is based on her latest one in the New 52. Not the barely-covering one, obviously: she's still about 15 here. But the most recent version, which is probably one of her more modest ones, outside the TV cartoon.**


	99. Per Vola Su Nata (Revised) Chapter 1

**Okay, well, the original version of this fic didn't quite go anywhere, so I'm hoping that this revised version will. I was dissatisfied at the three-way between Harry, Kori and Kara, so I decided to make it a strictly Harry/Kori pairing, and change the setting.I also had issues with how I introduced the contract between Harry and Kori, which felt too contrived, so this version, while still contrived, actually feels less awkward.  
**

 **Unlike the previous version, Dumbledore won't be seen in a flattering light, but neither will he be evil. As I put it in the annotations for this chapter, he's in this story more like the Pointy-Haired Boss from _Dilbert_ on one of the PHB's better days. Trying to be helpful, but getting it wrong as much as he gets it right.**

* * *

 _ **PER VOLA SU NATA (REVISED VERSION)**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **A DREAM OF FLYING**

 _"He has your eyes," one woman said to the other, smiling at a baby the other woman was holding._

 _"So I am told," the mother said. "But even so…we have to hide his looks, just like I had to hide mine. Humans…are not always welcoming of the different, and wizards even less so. The follies and foibles of any sentient species are amplified within them. I'm surprised that you came all the way out here, Your Majesty."_

 _"Please, call me Luand'r. I am not queen of_ _ **this**_ _world. I came merely to see whether any remnant of the Astur line remained, and to offer the hand of friendship if you wished to return. I wish I could have met your mother, Lilin."_

 _"She died saving my life. I've been going out in secret, dealing with the Death Eaters, but I don't think I will be able to stop Voldemort. And with the prophecy hanging over our heads…"_

 _"Indeed. You are going into hiding before long to protect your child."_

 _"I won't be just cowering. I will go out and fight, but I will pick my battles. I have my son to protect."_

 _"If he gains anything from you, then he'll be a fine warrior. My youngest daughter, Koriand'r, is about his age." Queen Luand'r seemed to consider something. "Perhaps that may be something to try."_

 _"What?"_

 _"Lilin, I have a proposal for you. It may sound odd, but I ask you to hear me out first…"_

* * *

Harry stared at the letter his godfather had sent him. It was a few days shy of his sixteenth birthday, and he had been getting steadily more and more angry at being kept in the dark. But now, he had received this. The letter in of itself had been unremarkable, filled with banal nonsense, but there were a few key phrases here and there that had Harry, on a whim, use the phrase used to activate the Marauder's Map. And when he had said, "I solemnly swear I'm up to no good,", he found a very different message. And this was how it ran.

 _Harry,_

 _You'll have to sit tight for a short while longer. However, while I can't explain everything in this letter, I can explain a number of things._

 _First things first: the Ministry of Magic has launched a smear campaign against you and Dumbledore via_ The Daily Prophet. _Some of the things they've written are beyond the pale, but Fudge is refusing to acknowledge Voldemort has risen again. I think some of the Death Eaters bribing Fudge have been suggesting this campaign._

 _Secondly, don't blame your friends for not writing to you with more detailed information. Blame Dumbledore. He ordered them not to, supposedly for your own safety. However, I know differently, and I will discuss this with you when we come. He's even forbidden Hermione from using Muggle mail to contact you, when virtually no Death Eater would even think of tracing Muggle mail._

 _Thirdly…I'm not sure we can trust Dumbledore, not entirely. Myself, Moony, and my cousin Nymphadora Tonks are the only adults you can trust, and out of your friends, Hermione and the Twins are the only ones I think you can trust. This isn't because of the others being malicious, it's because they're all beholden to Dumbledore, and, well, I know you'll hate to hear this, but…he isn't looking out for your best interests. After all, he sends you back to the Dursleys, year after year. And the situations you've been in, well, he could have done more to prevent. I don't think he's being malicious, just a control freak. Unfortunately, most here think that the sun shines out of his arse, and that includes the Weasleys. Well, save for the Twins._

 _Finally…I have a big secret to tell you. Like, a major secret. I haven't told you before because we've both had so many other things to deal with. But I think you're ready now, and besides, I'm sure you're sick of being kept in the dark. Just be warned, though, this will change your life._

 _Be ready. We'll be coming for you soon._

 _Yours,_

 _Padfoot_

 _PS. When we come for you, don't call Tonks 'Nymphadora'. She'll get angry at the bare minimum. At the worst…you'll need a cup. You know, like Muggles use for cricket. She kicks_ _ **hard**_ _._

Harry didn't know what to make of that. What was this about a secret? And what was with Sirius badmouthing Dumbledore all of a sudden? Or telling him that the Weasleys couldn't be trusted? What the hell was this all about?

Harry didn't tell Hermione, or indeed any of his friends, but lately, he'd been feeling…odd. Well, beyond having these dreams of Voldemort that weren't quite dreams, he was sure.

It had started, albeit subtly, after the Dementor swarm at the end of last year. It was as if their attempts to eat his soul had loosened… _something_. Like there was something within him, struggling to break free. He wasn't sure what, but he found himself yearning for more sunlight. Sometimes, he felt like he could fly, fly fast, fly forever.

But he couldn't. Without a broom, he was essentially earthbound. And that frustrated him no end…

* * *

It had happened later that day. He had spent most of the day doing his assigned chores. He had to admit, Sirius had a point. Despite protesting to Dumbledore about his treatment at the Dursleys, Harry always was sent back here. It wasn't as bad as Azkaban, given Sirius' tales of it, but until he got his Hogwarts letter, he was treated little better than a House Elf, and it was only a little bit better since. He had his own bedroom, and the chores were reduced, as was the physical abuse, but that was about it. He was still the Dursleys' servant and verbal punching bag for too long in the year.

He was sent outside to do the weeding, and then, as he was plucking them out of the garden, he heard a hissed " _Stupefy_ ", and was knocked unconscious before he could do anything. And when he did wake up, it was in a chair. One, thankfully, he wasn't tied to.

In fact, it was a very comfortable chair in a decently-lit lounge room. In addition, Sirius, Remus, Hermione, the Twins and a rather punkish-looking young woman with bubblegum-pink hair were sitting around in the same room.

"Sorry about that, Harry," Sirius said. "But we needed to get you away from there, and I know you would have asked so many questions, we couldn't get away cleanly. Even now, we don't have much time."

"Time for what?" Harry asked, feeling his anger well up.

Sirius held up a hand. "It's past time that I told you something, Harry. I meant to do it later, when I thought you were ready to know, but I overheard something that had me worried you'll never hear it from me. It's something your parents told me to tell you when you came of age, but I have to tell you sooner."

"And what's that?"

Sirius gathered himself, before dropping the bombshell. A bombshell that demolished everything Harry thought he knew about the world, about his life, even more so than when Hagrid told him he was a wizard. "You're not wholly human, Harry. Neither was your mother."

Harry stared at him blankly. In a flat, dangerous tone, he said, "What."

Sirius held up his hands. "Please, just listen to me first before you ask any questions, okay? I'm trying to explain as much as I can. It sounds stupid, but I promise you, it's true. Actually, Hermione, you're up. You know a bit more about the background than I do."

"What?" Harry asked, as Hermione came over.

Hermione nodded. "Harry…what do you know about the Teen Titans?"

Harry blinked at the question. "Umm…that's like the junior version of the Justice League, right? The one that started up a couple of years back. I know the Batman's protégé Robin is a member, there's a little brother of Superman, and there's that shapeshifting kid, Beast Boy or something. There's Cyborg, there's that spooky mage, Raven, teen versions of the Flash and Green Arrow, that teenaged girl version of the Martian Manhunter, and some other alien girl called Starfire."

"Okay, so I don't need to explain it. That's good," Hermione said.

"Dudley's a fan, even if Vernon and Petunia calls them freaks," Harry said bitterly. "But what do the Titans have to do with anything?"

"Well, that's the thing. It's not the Titans in general, but apparently one of them in particular," Hermione said, before giving the floor back to Sirius.

"You won't know this, Harry, but your mother and your aunt were only half-sisters. I'm not sure if Petunia knows, though I wouldn't be surprised if she did, the spiteful hag. Petunia's mother died in childbirth. Not long afterwards, your grandfather met another woman, and fell in love with her. But as it turned out, this woman was actually from another planet. She fled here to escape an assassination attempt on her family, as they were nobility on said planet. She adopted the name of Daisy Aster, an English version of her own name, Deizin Astur. She gave birth to Lily, and used the same means of concealing her alien features as she did with herself. Your grandparents died after an attack by Voldemort, but Daisy went out fighting. Neither the Death Eaters nor the Aurors at the time would admit it, but she took out a dozen Death Eaters before her husband's death distracted her long enough for her to be hit by the Killing Curse. Lily knew because she was there at the time. She had to be stunned and dragged away by James, as she was pregnant with you."

"…Then why did she die? Why did she sacrifice herself for me if she was so powerful? Couldn't she have killed Voldemort and then survived?"

"Believe me, she tried. She actually attacked Voldemort, but he was good at countering her. And she couldn't do too much unless she was in disguise. You have to remember, Superman was just starting out at the time, and so was the Batman. Vigilantes of any kind were treated with suspicion, and your mother was seen as a murderous inhuman creature killing Purebloods, even by Dumbledore. At about this time, Lily was tracked down by one of the royals of her mother's homeworld, Queen Luand'r. Luand'r made a most extraordinary offer: her oldest child had been afflicted by an illness that would probably rob her of her ability to fly, and she was worried about genetic stagnancy. So, she asked for a marriage contract to be put into place, between you and her youngest child." He sighed. "Her sacrificing herself to save you was to be a last resort, but Voldemort blocked Portkeys, Apparition, the Floo, he even stopped your family from leaving through the doors. The ritual she used was actually from her mother's world. That's why the feat hasn't been replicated. Magic is rare there, but it's not unheard of."

"So she sacrificed herself as a last resort." On Sirius' nod, Harry asked, "Okay, so why didn't you or Remus tell me?"

"Harry, I was probably the only one outside of your family that knew. Remus was looked on with suspicion as a traitor," Sirius said. "I doubt Pettigrew would have known either. And when we first met, I'd just been in Azkaban for over a decade, and I had almost forgotten. I was more fixated on getting Pettigrew. And with everything else going on with the Tri-Wizard Tournament, well, if I removed your bindings at the time, people would have noticed. Okay, I guess I'm making excuses. But the thing that reminded me was when I sent Moony into Gringotts to check on your finances. I had this nasty suspicion that Dumbledore might have helped himself to some of your inheritance, as he did persuade James to help fund the Order of the Phoenix during the last war. Thankfully, he's done no such thing. But we found the marriage contract."

"Oh God, I'm going to be married, to someone I don't even know," Harry groaned, putting his head in his hands.

"Harry…it might not be so bad," Hermione said.

"Of course it isn't, my dear Hermione," Fred said.

"After all, Harry is marrying a princess," George added.

"Oh, even better," Harry muttered sarcastically. With his luck, she'd be like Malfoy with tits.

Except…now that he came to think about it, he only knew of three girls on the Teen Titans. He assumed that was why Hermione brought them up. There was Raven, Starfire, and that Martian girl. He didn't know enough about them to know which of them, if any, were alien royalty.

"Harry…here, I'll undo the bindings," Remus said. "Sirius showed me how." And with that, he waved his wand. Harry Harry felt something shatter within him. Then, suddenly, he felt a stabbing pain in his scar, heard an unearthly screech, felt something drip down his face. As the pain faded, he felt something vaguely snap into place, like he was something stretched out of shape, and then let loose.

And then, he felt the gentle burning fire through his veins. He felt lighter than air, like he could fly. He felt like he could just point at something, and it would go…

He did point at something, and suddenly, with a brief screech, a bolt of green energy smacked into the wall, leaving a scorch mark. Harry stared down at his hand, only to start. His vision through his glasses was blurry, so he took them off, and realised, he could see VERY clearly indeed. His skin was orange-coloured. Rather like…

Harry blinked. "Do you have a mirror?"

Tonks handed over one, and Harry stared at what he saw reflected in it. His appearance, after all, had changed somewhat.

His skin was now a vibrant orange. His hair was now a deep burgundy, a dark reddish brown. His eyes, while still green, had sclera a lighter shade of the same colour. His scar had faded. Everything else was, more or less, the same, though his body had changed somewhat beneath his clothes, he could tell. He felt stronger, faster, _better_.

And now, he knew who they were talking about. "Holy crap…am I…?"

"You are. A quarter-Tamaranean. The marriage contract was between Harrin 'Harry' of the lines of Potter and Astur, and Princess Koriand'r," Sirius said.

"Which means, Harry," Hermione said, "you're engaged to Starfire of the Teen Titans."

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Well, if it isn't one thing, it's another. Harry learns of his heritage, and now, he's in an arranged marriage with Starfire.**

 **Part of the problem with the original version of the story was that it was a bit too happy, lacking in character conflict, and so on. Plus, adding Kara to the mix was troublesome. So, no harem or threeway, just Harry/Kori. In addition, getting the contract into the story seemed a bit awkward, and while this version still is a bit awkward, it's less awkward than before, frankly.**

 **Also, if you're worried that I'm going to be bashing Dumbledore…well, he's not going to be a villain in this fic. He's going to be a hindrance as much as a help, but he's more incompetent and manipulative than evil in this fic. He will still try to help Harry, though. A bit like the Pointy-Haired Boss from** ** _Dilbert_** **on one of his good days.**

 **Little bit of trivia: a good chunk of this, including Sirius' letter and the initial parts of Harry's kidnapping, were actually adapted from my first draft of my** ** _Homestuck_** **crossover** ** _Kakistocracy_** **, which was fairly different to the version I eventually published.**

 **The title of this chapter was inspired by the title of the first volume of Alan Moore's run on** ** _Miracleman_** **, by the way.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	100. Per Vola Su Nata (Revised) Chapter 2

**This is my 100th posted chapter for _The Cauldron_...well, counting the foreword and the news bulletin. This is my longest posted fiction at nearly 300K words as of writing (July 24 2017), even if it's a compilation (or anthology if you prefer). So...party?**

 **Nah.**

 **Anyway, I should clear this up: this story isn't based on any one comics continuity, so Kori's Starbolts, instead of being the result of experiments performed upon her, are actually innate to all Tamaraneans, closer to (I think) the cartoon show. I'll make this clearer in the finished fic. I'm glad people like this more than the original. It feels better.**

 **Incidentally, I've decided, after some soul-searching, to post _Flock Off!_ as a full fic. I had gone off it initially, as I had already done a more humorous _Sekirei_ crossover story told from the first person in my _Sekirei/Pirates of the Caribbean_ crossover _Yo-Ho, Yo-Ho, An Ashikabi's Life for Me_ (plug, plug), but I eventually decided to go ahead and post it. It won't be posted for some time yet, though, but keep an eye on my profile.**

* * *

 _ **PER VOLA SU NATA (REVISED)**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **AFFIANCED**

Harry struggled to remember what he could about Starfire. Orange skin, green eyes with green sclera, red hair, tended to dress a little skimpily. Like, she wore a figure-hugging long-sleeved top in purple, short shorts of the same colour, and bared her midriff(1). Oh, and she was what some of the boys in Gryffindor would call 'smoking hot'. So she ticked the 'looks' box, though no long term relationship was built on looks alone, obviously. And he didn't know enough about her personality to make much of a judgement.

What about powers? So he knew what to expect from his own, anyway Well, there was flight, and energy blasts, like those he just used. Strength as well, nowhere near as strong as Superman or Supergirl, but still…

"Hermione, do you know anything more about Starfire?" Harry asked.

"I do. I'm a bit of a fan of the Titans. Starfire's actually one of the ones we know more about. Her real name is Princess Koriand'r of Tamaran, though she's been deposed by her older sister, Komand'r, so the title doesn't mean much. 'Starfire' is actually what 'Koriand'r' translates into in English. She escaped to Earth about a year ago, and joined the Titans. There've been rumours that she and Robin are an item, but apparently both have denied that. Hopefully their denials are sincere, because, well, it's going to be awkward to say the least, otherwise."

"Is this contract wholly binding? Like, I'm not going to have to go through with it if it doesn't work out?" Harry asked.

"No," Sirius said. "I think the plan was for you two to get to know each other anyway, and if severed before actual marriage, the only thing that would be paid is compensation from the Potter family vault. So while binding, it's not like the Tri-Wizard Tournament. But we're here anyway. We're currently in Jump City, at one of my family's lesser-known properties."

"It's better than that awful home at…" Hermione frowned. "I forgot about the Fidelius. But it's better than that place."

"That's because it was bought and maintained by one of the more open-minded members of the Blacks," Sirius said. "Anyway, we should be getting visitors before long…"

* * *

It was rare for owl post to come to the Titans Tower, even given their liaising with MACUSA. Rachel was usually the one who brought it in, with the wards she developed diverting any magical mail to a box she devised, one that would strip almost any known curse from the mail. She had tried marketing it to the wizards, but as much of the magic she used was demonic, they refused. Even though, for once, the demonic magic was actually being used against dark magic.

She frowned when she fished the letter from the box. It was definitely a Gringotts letter, which wasn't unusual: Rachel had correspondence with them herself, and they at least accepted the curse-stripping postbox. No, what was unusual was the recipient. It was addressed to Princess Koriand'r. And the thing was, Kori had barely any correspondence with the magicals. Okay, that was partly because she had only arrived on Earth relatively recently, but also because not many of the Titans had regular correspondence with the local magicals. Rachel got some, as did Dick (who actually got hired occasionally by the local Aurors to help with physical self-defence techniques) and Garfield (who sometimes got to meet magical creatures, much to his delight, as it meant more forms for him to change into), but Kori?

Rachel quickly scanned the letter for any curse residue, but couldn't find any. So she decided to take it to Kori.

She found Kori in the training room, flying around, firing screeching blasts of energy from her hands at the targets. Starbolts, Rachel recalled. Concentrated jets of light, converted from the ultraviolet radiation that Tamaraneans absorbed. "Kori!" Rachel called out. When Kori looked at her, Rachel waved her letter.

Kori eagerly swooped down, and landed, plucking the letter from Rachel's hands. "Thank you, Rachel. Though it's odd that I have a letter that is not from an admirer. This seems to be more official." She opened it, and read. Rachel didn't need her empathic abilities to tell Kori was going through a gamut of emotions, a flood of conflicting feelings.

Eventually, Kori murmured something in her native language. Then, in English, she murmured, "So he is still alive. My mother feared the worst, but she couldn't leave her duties to find him, so I did not think to look for him…"

"What's wrong?" Rachel asked.

Kori looked up at her, before saying, "Rachel, I am betrothed."

"Betrothed?"

"Yes. To the last of the Astur line, Harin. But he has a human name, Harry Potter."

Rachel blinked in surprise. "Did you say…Harry Potter?"

"Indeed I did, Rachel. Why? Does the name sound familiar to you?"

Rachel frowned. Well, she frequently frowned, but her habitual frown deepened. Could it be the same Harry Potter? "May I?" she said, indicating the letter.

Kori handed it over, and Rachel pored over it. It was a letter sent by Sirius Black, of all people, though he plead his innocence, and asked that, if they wanted, they bring someone capable of Legilimency. So, they'd have to take M'gann. Always assuming it wasn't a trap. Then again, there were things that didn't add up about that whole debacle with Sirius Black fifteen years ago.

So, unless this was some elaborate trap (and Rachel couldn't dismiss the possibility: Batman, while training them, had drilled them about being cautious to the point of near-paranoia), this really was about Harry Potter. Which meant she had a lot of explaining to do. And she needed to get Dick and M'gann on this at the very least…

* * *

Dick was surprised and a little angry at the fact that Kori had been betrothed. He and Kori had…well, they denied it was a romantic relationship, or at least they were boyfriend and girlfriend, but there was something there. But Rachel also could see that jealousy was only a small part of Dick's reaction: Batman's protégé was protective of his comrades, and he was worried for Kori's safety. M'gann was just curious.

Rachel delivered what she knew about Harry Potter and Sirius Black. Dick pondered what he had learned. He probably sympathised with Harry a little now: he himself was an orphan, as was his mentor. "So, Kori is now betrothed to a part-Tamaranean, someone who is also one of the most famous wizards in the world?"

Rachel nodded. "I have followed his exploits in imported copies of _The Daily Prophet_ , though articles from that, you have to take with more than a pinch of salt. Magical Britain has little in the way of libel laws, and they don't care much for No-Maj laws either."

"We know that already, dealing with MACUSA," Dick muttered. "If Sirius Black is innocent, why haven't they tried to exonerate him?"

"Public sentiment is firmly against him. Even if Harry tried to exonerate Black publicly, it would be futile. Skilled wizards can fool Veritaserum and Legilimency, and in any case, the current Minister has issued a Kiss on Sight order. And that means a Kiss from a Dementor, a creature that sucks out souls, leaving the body little more than a drooling vegetable. I think Black is taking advantage of this whole situation to try and claim asylum either with us or the Justice League. Probably the latter, but he's contacted us first because of Harry's betrothal to Kori."

"This still seems like it could get messy," M'gann said. "Even if Black is on the level, having a known fugitive from Magical Britain would spark an uproar both there and in the MACUSA. It's bad enough they treat Kori and I like things, not to mention Garfield and Connor. And that's without mentioning the mess Kara caused when she first arrived."

"They'd treat me even worse if they knew of my lineage, M'gann," Rachel said pointedly. "The moment they learn I am Trigon's daughter, they'll probably try to kill or capture me. As it is, they just think I am a native of Azarath…which is partly true. And that's bad enough."

"What do we know about his character?" Dick asked.

"Nothing remotely objective," Rachel said. "Using _The Daily Prophet_ as a basis is just asking for trouble: at the moment, they're running a smear campaign against him, claiming him to be a delusional attention seeker for claiming that Voldemort's back from the dead. Personally, I wouldn't be surprised if Voldemort did come back, and Minister Fudge is just in denial, not helped by the bribes he gets from the richer families, many of whom are sympathetic to Voldemort's cause. We'd have to meet him. That being said, to manage what he did during the Tri-Wizard Tournament, he must be somewhat brave. He did, after all, face off against a dragon."

M'gann shuddered at the thought. Dragons, after all, could breathe fire, and Martians were pyrophobes. "Still, he is a celebrity," she pointed out. "He could have this sense of entitlement."

"One who was apparently kept unaware of his status until he went to Hogwarts," Rachel pointed out. "My thought was, we use Meeting Plan Gamma."

Dick nodded approvingly. That plan meant a small but diverse group goes to the meeting, but notified the other Titans. If the first group don't get in contact with them by a certain time, the others come to the rescue. It was used for meetings with unknowns who may or may not be a threat. It might be paranoid, but they needed to be sure.

"Well then," Kori said, trying to look like her usual cheerful self, "shall we go?"

* * *

Harry was feeling nervous, to say the least, as he waited in the atrium. If the Titans had received the letter Sirius had sent them, then they should be coming here any moment. Harry had showered, changed his clothes (and had had Hermione and Remus fussing over him to smarten himself up like mother hens…which put him disturbingly in mind of Molly Weasley), and now, here he was, waiting for his betrothed.

 _Betrothed_. Harry was going to be married to an alien princess. A deposed one, true, but a bloody princess. And if that weren't surreal enough, said princess was also a superhero, one of the Teen Titans! Oh, and Harry was an alien too, or at least part. Enough that he would stand out more than he did already.

Sirius and Remus had been worried about that strange apparition that had emerged from Harry's scar as his appearance changed back, though. Apparently, it looked like a smoky wraith with Voldemort's face, and Remus was researching it in this house's library. Still, his scar had faded significantly, so that was a bonus.

But still…this was all a bit sudden, to say the least. And he had to wonder how Koriand'r would take it. She would probably be apprehensive too.

He felt a faint tickle in his mind briefly. Then, not long afterwards, there was a knock on the door. Sirius went to answer it, and opened the door. "Good afternoon," he said. "Welcome to the _pied-à-terre_ of the Black family. Thanks for coming on short notice."

"It affects one of our own," came the voice of a boy about Harry's age. "M'gann's already scanned the minds of those here. In any case, good afternoon to you as well. Can we come in?"

Sirius nodded, and let in a quartet of teenagers, all fairly diverse and strange-looking. At their head was the boy who had spoken, the sole boy, dark-haired, wearing an eyemask of some kind. He was wearing a red uniform with the letter 'R' emblazoned in his breast, with green trousers and a black cape with yellow lining. Harry recognised him instantly as Robin, the protégé of Batman.

The first girl to come in wore a white shirt, a cape, and a blue skirt. Her exposed skin was green, and her hair red. She was actually kind of cute. Harry was sure that this was the one who was a female version of the Martian Manhunter.

The second was wearing a dark blue hooded cloak over what looked like a black leotard. The hood was being pulled down, revealing the solemn, stoic face of a girl whose pensive features were framed by a short bob of dark purple hair. Her eyes were violet, and her skin was pale grey. Harry knew this was Raven.

And then…there she was. Looking uncharacteristically nervous, and understandably so. He had to admit, she was more beautiful in person than he had imagined, even from the few images he had seen of her. Which made him feel somewhat inadequate, to say the least. Even while nervous, she seemed to have, paradoxically, a confidence that radiated out.

Harry walked over to her, and put his hand out. "Good afternoon, Princess Koriand'r. I'm Harry Potter," he said, in as tactful and calm a tone as he could manage. "I'm grateful to you for coming here. This has been as much a surprise to me as it must have been for you."

After a moment, she took his hand (and how comfortingly warm it felt), and gave him a smile. "Yes, it has. And please, call me Kori."

Well, it was a start. No fights, no arguments, no battles to the death. Harry just had to hope his luck would last…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry and Kori have met, and it's not too bad so far. Time will tell, though.**

 **1\. This is Starfire's costume from the New 52…well, when she got her own series recently. I'm thinking of the one where she goes to Florida for a seachange. I wanted something a bit more modest than her first New 52 costume, or the sling bikini with accessories she wore before then, but I also wanted to show her wearing something different to what she wears in the cartoon.**


	101. Green Girl and Her Wizard Chapter 1

**So, another Harry Potter/ _Sekirei_ crossover and AU set during the events of Book 4. Unlike _Wings of the Forsaken_ , though, it's not a WBWL story, and Harry if 15 (Hogwarts age of admittance raised in this story).**

 **This is another fic based on a challenge by whitetigerwolf, namely 'The Green Girl and the Potter' challenge. Whether this will get turned into a full story, I don't know, and I frankly doubt it. But the opening chapter was just begging to be written.**

 **It actually took a lot of thought to think about what a teenaged Kusano would look like. Fans of a certain Monty Oum series will be pleased...**

* * *

 _ **GREEN GIRL AND HER WIZARD**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **KUSANO AND HARRY**

 _He was lost. Well, he had been for days, lost in a strange city, filled with strange people, unable to find his family…well, he used that term loosely. While he was glad that he was no longer with them on one level, the truth was, he was a young boy of seven, lost in another country, where he didn't speak the language._

 _But now, he was even more lost. While he was wandering a park, suddenly, plants seemed to grow out of nothing. He panicked, remembering how his uncle and aunt hit him whenever any 'freakishness' occurred. Okay, they weren't here, but still, his fear had been ingrained for a long time._

 _He ran further into what had become a dense forest, humid and dim. It was getting dark, he knew. And he was hungry. But his mind kept imagining even hungrier horrors in the shadows. Fear spurred his flight further into the forest, not knowing what dangers lurked in the darkness._

 _He stopped to pause for breath in a clearing. But as he did so, he heard a noise. Faint sobbing. It sounded like a girl. He looked up, before seeing a curled up form, high in a tree. "Hey, are you all right?" he called out. "Can you get down from there? Are you stuck?"_

 _The girl's sobbing stopped, and then she peered over the side at him, her expression wary. Cute features were framed by a messy mane of blonde hair. Green eyes, like his own, peered down at him with suspicion and fear…only to be replaced with confusion and, perhaps, a little hope. She was wearing a simple, smock-like dress. She spoke in the language he had heard all this time in this country, staccato syllables that he couldn't understand. She was asking a question. "_ Anata wa dare desu ka? _"_

 _"I don't know what you're saying," he said._

 _"_ Nihongo ga dekimasu ka? _" she asked. After a moment, she seemed to consider something. She made a gesture, and a vine dangled down, seemingly growing from the tree itself, from the branches above her. It gently wrapped around him, with only the gentleness preventing him from panicking, though he still felt fear. The vine then hauled him gently into the air, and deposited him on the branch the girl was on. She then asked, "_ O-namae wa? Watashi wa Kusano desu. _" She pointed at herself. "_ Kusano. **Kusano**. _"_

 _Oh. Was she trying to tell her his name? He pointed to himself. "Harry._ _ **Harry.**_ _"_

 _"Harry?" She cocked her head curiously. Then, she blinked, her cheeks turning red. Her eyes looked a bit unfocused. She then began to breathe a little heavily. She crawled gingerly along the branch they were perched on, and peered into his eyes. Then, she murmured, "Onii-chan?"_

 _Before Harry could understand it, Kusano (assuming that was her name) leaned forward and placed her lips on his own. Was she kissing him? He was frozen, unsure what to do, and he was amazed as green glowing wings emerged from her back. Were all girls like that when you kissed them?_

 _But he could feel something else, something being connected to his very soul. She spoke to him again, in words he didn't understand. But he could tell, by the look on her face, that he had made a friend for the first time in his life. Even if they couldn't speak the same language, they were bound in some other fundamental way. Like they could spend the rest of their lives with each other…_

* * *

 _Eight years later_ …

A lavender-haired woman wearing a kimono slid open a door, and smiled in a somewhat wistful manner at the sight within. Curled up against each other on a futon were a pair of forms, dressed somewhat (well, in pyjamas). One, a dark-haired boy, thin and lanky. The other, a slender, blonde-haired girl. Both about fifteen. The girl had wrapped her arms around the boy from behind.

The woman knew that no inappropriate activities had taken place. She knew these two children (well, getting to the point where they weren't anymore) tested boundaries, but didn't cross them. They still intended to wait for just a while longer.

A buxom, red-haired woman, wearing glasses and a qipao, walked up, and chuckled. Usually, her chuckles had a perverted undertone to them, but these ones were affectionate. "They're so cute like this, Miya, aren't they?" she asked.

"Of course, Matsu. They haven't done anything inappropriate?"

"They never progress beyond First Base, Miya, if that's what you're worried about. I think they're saving all that up for Harry's 16th. Though I can teach Ku a few things that she can use when the time comes…" This time, her chuckle was perverted, only to cut off suddenly when a dark miasma surrounded Miya, and a demonic mask shimmered into being.

"Remember the rules, Matsu. Ku is already tainted by your… _insinuations_. Kindly do not corrupt her any further," Miya said with a stern tone.

Then, one of the forms on the futon stirred. "My _Hannya_ senses are tingling," muttered the teenaged boy.

"Mum's being scary to Aunty Matsu again, Harry," the girl murmured, half-asleep, cuddling up to Harry. "I wanna sleep in."

"If you sleep in, you're not getting any breakfast," Miya chided gently as her aura and mask faded.

The girl groaned, and sat up, pouting. "You're being mean, Mum," she said, before sticking out her tongue.

"And you're being petulant, Kusano," Miya responded. "You'll be setting a bad example for the children of Seo and the Lightning Twins."

"Seo's already a bad example, Mum," Kusano said with a roll of her eyes. "You always say that. How can I possibly be any worse?"

"You do not want me to answer that, young lady…"

* * *

It was a strange family Harry Asama had ended up in. It had all begun with the girl he would come to call, at least initially, a sister, though now, their relationship wasn't that of honorary siblings, but of boyfriend and girlfriend. It all started with Kusano.

Not long after Harry met her, a silver-haired man in a black coat and mask came for them. He actually spoke English very well. His name was Homura, and he was like Kusano. Only, instead of being able to grow plants, he wielded fire. It took some considerable persuasion for Harry and Kusano to allow Homura to take them home.

Home turned out to be Maison Izumo, a Japanese mansion turned into a boarding house. Its landlady, and the woman that Harry would come to see as a mother, was Miya Asama. Like Homura, she could speak English very well. Between the two of them, they gently probed Harry about what had happened, and then told him what he had gotten himself into. Namely, the Sekirei Plan.

Miya, Homura, and Kusano weren't actually people, well, not humans. They were actually aliens, called Sekirei (the name, Harry would come to learn, was the Japanese name for the wagtail bird), each with their own ability. Each Sekirei, with the exception of Miya, were to seek out their chosen one, their Ashikabi, to bond with forever. Those that they reacted to, they made the bond with a kiss. This bonding process was called 'Winging', due to the ethereal wings of energy that appeared. Most Sekirei were already in their late teens if not older, with Kusano being the youngest.

The Sekirei Plan, in its original form, had been developed by Miya's supposedly late husband, Takehito Asama, but had been hijacked and perverted by the deranged Hiroto Minaka. It was turned into a glorified tournament, supposedly designed to help Sekirei find their Ashikabi, but in truth, it was meant for Minaka's own gratification, to feed his megalomania, his god complex. And Harry was now conscripted into it by the simple act of kissing Kusano.

For protection, Harry allied himself with another, older Ashikabi, Minato Sahashi, who had also Winged a Sekirei: the enthusiastic (if not quite bright) fist-fighter Musubi. He would soon Wing many more, like the perverted hacker Matsu, the haughty water-user Tsukiumi, the assured wind-user Kazehana, and, perversely enough, Homura. Who became a girl. That was confusing for Harry at the time.

What followed was a series of bizarre and, to the young boy, scary events. Even now, some things haunted his dreams. Like the mad cackle of Hiroto Minaka, or the cold pragmatism of Izumi Higa, or the vicious smirk of Karasuba. Minaka and Higa were in jail, and Karasuba…well, she was still working for MBI as an enforcer, so that nightmare hadn't quite gone away in reality.

But it wasn't all bad. Life at Maison Izumo was certainly better than life at the Dursleys'. And that was even before he learned he was a wizard. Thank whatever deities were listening (his adoptive mother was the closest thing to a living deity on Earth, so he could thank her directly) that attendance at Mahoutokoro was flexible. Though he was, admittedly, surprised to learn that he was famous back in Britain, albeit for, he felt, the wrong reasons. Thankfully, Mahoutokoro was discreet about his enrolment, especially as it was under his adoptive parents' last name.

Yes, parents, _plural_. As it turned out, Takehito Asama was still alive, albeit in a deep coma, held by MBI. But Harry, along with Kusano's Norito or unique ultimate ability, was able to revive him. Oh, he was in a bad way, and still was: he needed a cane just to walk. But it was thanks to him that the Sekirei Plan was able to get back to the way it was, and not the perversion Minaka turned it into.

All was right in the world, or so Harry and Kusano thought. They had a loving family and a circle of friends. And Seo.

Unfortunately, peace, as it often is, is transient…

* * *

Breakfast was a collaborative affair. While Miya, theoretically, could have handled it herself, Harry had helped her from a young age, partly out of habit ingrained by the vile Dursleys. And while appalled to learn why her adopted son was so adept at cooking, Miya decided to accept the help, if only to give the boy a sense of helping others. Now that they had so many living here, it was actually something of a great help, especially as Harry had now learned to love cooking, rather than to see it as a chore. Certainly he had an admirer in the layabout Kaoru Seo, former geneticist and Ashikabi of the Lightning Twins, Hikari and Hibiki.

As Miya and Harry cooked, Asama looked over at Minato Sahashi, the son of two of his colleagues. Takehito Asama had white-grey hair framing surprisingly youthful, even vaguely effeminate features. However, his time spent in a coma had taken its toll, and even now, eight years after his revival, he looked rather haggard. But his eyes had a clarity and a strength of character behind the gentleness. "How's your mother lately, Minato?"

Minato resembled his mother Takami Sahashi more, at least in terms of general features, but he wasn't like his parents in demeanour (and considering his father was Minaka, that was something to be thankful for). He was gentle, kind, and prone to being flustered. Now a researcher working for MBI, Minato was trying to juggle his work and being there for his Sekirei. "A bit stressed. Comes from running MBI, I guess. I think she once said to me that this was Minaka's last revenge, trying to kill her with stress, mutinous employees, and paperwork. Unfortunately, she's still trying to find time to fit in her little get-together with you."

"I understand. If I'm up to it, I'll visit her sometime this week," Takehito said.

"I can carry you!" Musubi chirped. A brown-haired Sekirei with a buxom figure (though to be fair, many female Sekirei had a pretty buxom figure anyway) and dressed in a stylised shrine maiden's outfit, Musubi was Minato's first Sekirei. He soon gained more: his Flock now had no less than five Sekirei, one of whom was Matsu.

"Thanks for the offer, Musubi, but I'm not exactly in a fit state to travel Musubi Air," Takehito remarked dryly.

"Is anyone?" Kusano asked cheekily. "So, where's the others?"

"Homura and Kazehana's already gone out on patrol with the new Discipline Squad," Minato said. "As for Tsukiumi…well, her adjuster is ill as you know, and the hospital called. So she's gone to keep her company before she dies."

"Can I do anything to help?" Kusano asked. While her powers were mostly over plants, her Norito did allow her to heal and resurrect those nearby, within reason. Mostly from recent trauma and injury.

"She's old, and I don't think your Norito can help against cancer, Ku," Takehito said gently. "It was miraculous enough you brought me out of my coma. Sometimes, there are people you can't save, even with the best of intentions."

Kusano nodded morosely. While fifteen now, she did have a childish streak still, and it was hard for her to accept that she couldn't help everybody. She was dressed in a yellow top and a tan jacket, along with black trousers(1).

It was at that point that Miya and Harry came in, carrying the food. Matsu also came in, looking irritated. "Another camera I've hacked into's gone on the fritz," she grumbled. "Looks like a minor EMP caused by some idiot mage Apparating nearby. Or maybe Hibiki and Hikari or their kids are getting zap-happy again"

"It's one less camera for you to be a voyeur from, Aunt Matsu," Harry said with a grin.

Matsu snorted, only for the phone to ring. Miya went to answer it, and picked it up. Harry couldn't hear the conversation, but he could hear enough of the tone of his adoptive mother's voice that whatever it was, it wasn't good. And that was the thing about Miya: when she got angry, as in truly angry, she didn't use her aura or _Hannya_ mask. She got quiet and calm, deathly so.

And that was one thing that scared Harry more than almost anything else. He had heard of the Boggart, a creature that could shapeshift to show one's worst fear, and he was almost certain that his Boggart would turn into his mother, back when she was the impassive, virtually heartless leader of the Discipline Squad, a monster capable of destroying entire ships with just a swing of her sword…from kilometres away. Not so much a woman as an implacable, relentless force of destruction, like a hurricane or a volcano.

After she hung up, she emerged, looking deathly serious. "Miya, darling, what's the matter?" Takehito asked.

Miya seemed to calm herself with an appreciable effort, before she said, "Takehito, dear, I need to get my sword. I am worried I may break my promise, because someone has done something that threatens my family." She looked over at Harry, her eyes glistening. "Somehow, someone has entered you into the Tri-Wizard Tournament. And they want you in Scotland to participate…"

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, there you have it. Harry has Kusano as a girlfriend now. Okay, firstly, she was a sister figure, but now, well…**

 **There will be Dumbledore-bashing in this story. Though rather than being truly evil, he's going to be stupidly oblivious and arrogant.**

 **1\. I actually thought long and hard about what a grown-up Kusano would look like. It took some doing, but I eventually decided that she looks like a fifteen year old Yang from** ** _RWBY_** **, and with almost the same getup, save for wearing trousers.**


	102. Green Girl and Her Wizard (Chapter 2)

**Before I get onto the preliminaries for this sample chapter, I'd like to do some shameless plugging of some of my other works, namely my shorter Potterverse stories (the one-shots and two-shots) that I think need a bit more love.**

 *** _HoneyMoon_ : My one and only (to date, beyond background in other stories) Harry/Ginny story, where Harry and Ginny have a honeymoon...on the Moon. No, really.**

 *** _Ultimecia's Knight_ : A crossover with _Final Fantasy VIII_ , where Harry ends up with Ultimecia...and manages to keep her from the insane path she was on in the game. A fic that helped my characterisations of Ultimecia in my later Potterverse story _Mnemosyne's Son_ , and my _Evangelion_ crossover _Anchor of Ultimecia_.**

 *** _L for Luna_ : A crossover with _A for Andromeda_ , a BBC science fiction serial from the 60s, co-created by famous astronomer Fred Hoyle. This is a fic which sheds some light on Luna's strange family history.**

 *** _Puella Magi Luna Magica_ : As you might guess, a two-shot crossover with _Puella Magi Madoka Magica_ , where Kyubey makes a contract with Luna...and regrets it. My first attempt at writing a crackfic.**

 *** _Kith and Kin_ : My latest one-shot (as of writing) crossing over with _Durarara!_ , based on one of whitetigerwolf's challenges, where Celty is revealed to have a connection with Harry...**

 **Okay, well, I was surprised at the vast amount of positive comments about the first chapter of _Green Girl and Her Wizard_. I was unaware that there was a canonical appearance of an older Kusano in the _Sekirei_ manga, but as far as this fic is concerned, Ku looking like a fifteen year-old Yang from _RWBY_ is canon. It just seems...fitting, I think, that as Ku grows older, she would be a bit more experimental. I wanted a look that wasn't ridiculous or too adult for her, but was plausible. Plus, you'll see a lot of references to the Nasuverse in this chapter (in terms of characters, anyway), and probably in the full fic.**

 **Also, while I did say in the previous posted chapter that Dumbledore wouldn't be evil in this fic, though bashable was another matter, I decided to change my mind. Sorry, Dumbledore fans. I have written plenty of stories where he's a good guy (or at least trying to be), so you're more than welcome to read those. Of course, that's always assuming that this story becomes a full fic. I very nearly stopped after the first chapter, only for the comments to actually inspire me, for once (this isn't an insult, it's just that demands for more chapters frequently put pressure on me, pressure that can jam up the creativity works. Sorry).**

 **Anyway, enjoy.**

* * *

 _ **GREEN GIRL AND HER WIZARD**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **UNWANTED VISITORS AND TIDINGS**

It was not long afterwards that they got some visitors, and quite frankly, unwelcome ones. The first was Japanese Minister of Magic Tokiomi Tohsaka(1), a rather haughty man in his late thirties, handsome and bearded. While a skilled wizard and great administrator, he was also something of an elitist snob, and had also allowed the Sekirei Plan that Minaka had instituted to go through, despite it pitting sentient beings against each other. While his clothing was old-fashioned, it was not so much that it would draw more than a second glance: he just looked like old money to most Muggles.

The second was a rather fatuous-looking man wearing yellow and black-striped robes. He looked like an athlete gone to seed, and Harry would bet he was a former Quidditch Player. The third was an older man with a severe suit, a severe face, and a severe moustache. He would look like a Muggle banker, or perhaps a rather pedantic bureaucrat.

And then, finally, there was an old man who looked like a pantomime Merlin whose costume looked like it had been designed by someone high on some sort of hallucinogen. He had a long beard, and blue eyes that twinkled maddeningly, like he knew the punchline to a joke you weren't privy to. Harry knew about this one at least, and scowled. This had to be Albus Dumbledore, he of too many goddamn names and titles, Headmaster of Hogwarts, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and Supreme Mugwump of the ICW. And, incidentally, quite possibly the twat who had royally sodomised his life, at least before he ended up here.

Minato and Musubi had been sent out on errands beforehand: they knew about wizards and witches, but even so, they'd had bad encounters with overzealous Aurors before who had wanted to Obliviate them for some reason or another. Matsu was watching things from her little control room, in case things went south.

Tohsaka looked at them with an urbane but thin smile. There was considerable bad blood between him and the Asamas when it was learned that he had allowed the Sekirei Plan to go ahead. Nothing could be proven, but still, Miya had made it clear she didn't want anything to do with him if she could help it. "Forgive this impropriety, but unfortunately, the British, it seems, have made a considerable mistake, one which has rather dire consequences for young Mr Asama here and his Sekirei."

Miya nodded. As much as she loathed him, she also knew that he would do little to endanger Harry for pragmatic reasons: having the Boy Who Lived on Japanese soil had been something of a coup for the man, even if it caused something of a press backlash in Britain a few years back. And he wouldn't dare kill the goose that laid the golden eggs if he could help it. "And these gentlemen are?" she asked.

"Ah yes. This is Bartemius Crouch Senior, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and Ludovic Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. They are representatives of the British Ministry of Magic. And this is Professor Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts." Harry couldn't help but note the disdainful sneer that touched Tohsaka's lips when he said the name of the school. And while Mahoutokoro was fairly progressive by magical school standards, it was still somewhat conservative, which was why Harry only attended the classes he needed to, preferring to study from home.

It certainly meant he could stay with Kusano more often. Sekirei, despite their supernatural abilities, did not count as either humans or magicals, especially as their abilities tended to be highly specialised. And she couldn't count as a familiar. At best, she was his soul-bonded mate, and even then, Harry was the only student at Mahoutokoro who was an Ashikabi, though a couple of teachers were also Ashikabi. But their Sekirei could not attend. They could only be at best visitors.

Thankfully, given the presence of the Sekirei, the Statute of Secrecy was laxer in Shinto Teito than it was elsewhere, though Japan was less likely to enforce it than some places. This meant Harry could practise magic at home regularly. As long as he didn't do it in front of Muggles not in the know, anyway.

"Would you be so kind as to introduce yourself, my dear lady?" Dumbledore asked. They were speaking in Japanese, though the Asama household was actually bilingual: Harry could speak both English and Japanese, and so could his parents and Kusano.

"Certainly. I am Miya Asama. This is my husband, Doctor Takehito Asama," Miya said, indicating her husband. "This is Harry Asama, my adopted son, and his Sekirei, Kusano."

"Surely you are mistaken, madam?" Dumbledore asked. "This is Harry Potter."

"That was his birth name, but he is now Harry Asama," Miya said, her eyes focusing on Dumbledore. "I have filed the relevant paperwork with both the Ministry here and with the mundane authorities."

"And how did he come to be with you?" Dumbledore asked.

"That is not the topic for discussion here, and in any case, he is not under your purview," Miya said.

"Regardless, he has been entered into the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He must compete," Crouch said stiffly. "Otherwise, he will lose his magic."

"Even though he didn't enter himself?" Takehito asked.

"That is irrelevant."

Miya narrowed her eyes at Crouch. "Take care of what you claim to be irrelevant, Crouch. This is my son's life you are speaking of."

"Are you threatening me?"

"My son is being forced to participate in this farce or else be deprived of his magic," Miya said coldly. "I could claim that you are threatening him. And as I understand it, forfeiting one's magic has a very good chance of killing the wizard involved, and when an Ashikabi dies, their Sekirei may die with them. Which means that two lives are in danger."

"Which is why we're here," Dumbledore said in a conciliatory manner. "We don't wish for Harry to come to any harm."

 _Like I did with the Dursleys?_ Harry thought mutinously, but he held his tongue.

"Really?" Tohsaka asked. "As I understand it, Professor Dumbledore, the Tri-Wizard Tournament was abandoned after a high death toll. Something about a manticore running riot, I believe."

"We have toned things down somewhat," Crouch said. "While still dangerous, there are more checks and balances. I believe that it is certainly less dangerous than this…Sekirei Plan I had heard of."

"The version implemented by Minaka, yes," Takehito said. "What does my son need to participate in?"

"The three Tasks," Crouch said. "He will also be required to attend a Weighing of the Wands ceremony in a few days' time, as well as the Yule Ball. The First Task will require him to face it with only his wand, to show how wizards are brave in the face of the unknown. He does have a wand, doesn't he?"

Harry, irritably, pulled his out of his pocket. "It's a Hisau cherry wood custom wand," he said(2).

"Hmm, very impressive, my boy," Dumbledore remarked. "You could always study at Hogwarts between Tasks."

"I'd rather not be away from my family, Professor," Harry said. "In any case, I'm on the verge of doing the Mahoutokoro equivalent of OWLs later this year." _And I'm not your boy_ , he added in annoyance.

"Your family lives in Surrey, not Japan," Dumbledore said.

"Family does not abandon their own in a strange country where they can't speak the language," Harry retorted coldly. "Family doesn't treat their own like a House Elf."

Tohsaka looked over at Dumbledore, who waved him off. "Exaggerations, I'm sure," he said.

"Exaggerations?" Miya's eyes narrowed. "When I first took him in, I had him undergo a thorough medical examination. Chronic malnutrition, broken bones that hadn't healed fully, burn scars from a form of deliberate branding…on his back, mind, where he couldn't possibly reach. They may be his blood relations, but they are not family."

Harry was gratified to see both Tohsaka and Crouch glaring at Dumbledore, who seemed to have the decency to look ashamed. "Can we arrange a Portkey to travel back and forth between Shinto Teito and Hogwarts?" Takehito asked, changing the subject to avoid further debate.

"Of course, Dr Asama," Tohsaka said smoothly. "Harry, will you be representing Mahoutokoro in the Tri-Wizard Tournament? While you were born in England, you are now effectively a Japanese citizen. And your participation alone will bring us renown."

After a moment, Harry nodded. "I'll do just that."

"Excellent. My daughters will most certainly be cheering you on," Tohsaka said with a smile. "And I know Professor Matou will be."

Harry couldn't help but smile at the thought. Professor Kariya Matou (who taught Defence Against the Dark Arts) was the white sheep of an otherwise infamously dark family that lately had been pumping out Squibs, with Kariya the only one with magical potential. On holiday, he had gotten caught up in the Sekirei Plan, and ended up Winging a Sekire called Yashima while saving her from a rapist. Even now, they were still together. Kariya and Tohsaka weren't on good terms, as Tohsaka had married the woman Kariya had originally been in love with, but Tohsaka respected the man's uncle-like relationship with his daughters. Harry and Kusano friends with Sakura, who was in the same classes as he was, and on friendly terms with Rin(3).

"I'll make arrangements for the Portkey, then," Tohsaka said.

"So you will participate?" Crouch asked.

"It's not like I have a choice, is it?" Harry asked. _Just like the fucking Sekirei Plan_ , he thought.

Kusano, sensing his anger and sharing it, cuddled up to him. Sekirei were very affectionate by nature, for the most part.

* * *

The four wizards had left, though not before Takehito and Miya had interrogated Dumbledore as to how Harry's name could have been entered. Apparently he had drawn an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire, the magical artifact used to choose the Champions, and the Goblet was only supposed to choose based on the three schools. But someone had presumably used a Confundus charm powerful enough to trick the Goblet into believing there was a fourth school. That had been a couple of days ago, on Halloween night, and they had spent the next couple of days finding Harry and negotiating with the Japanese Ministry.

Matsu walked out of her control room, and scowled. "Thankfully, they didn't try anything. I've got the whole recording on tape, from multiple angles. I'm surprised that Bagman didn't speak beyond those goodbyes and good lucks in English. Though judging by that punch-drunk look of his, he could barely speak that, never mind Japanese."

"He shook my hand too hard," Harry muttered.

"I'm going to get Kazehana to watch the tape. You know how good she is at reading people," Matsu said. "Something was off about that."

"I agree," Miya said. "Dumbledore didn't seem too happy about Harry being in Japan, or being placed with us, for that matter. Especially the latter. He could just be an oblivious fool, or senile, or even genuinely concerned, but my instincts tell me otherwise. I'd be glad of a second opinion from Kazehana, as it could be maternal paranoia."

"Tohsaka also seemed to believe that the contract involved was irrevocable," Takehito mused.

"I have a question, though," Kusano said. "Why was Harry's name entered into this thing in the first place?"

"A good question, Ku," Matsu said, resettling her glasses. "Keep in mind that Harry is famous in the wizarding world, especially in Britain. Someone wants him back there, and doesn't care that he'll be in danger during this Tournament. Plus, remember that brouhaha at the Quidditch World Cup back in August? There was a riot caused by former Death Eaters, but then someone cast the Dark Mark. That caused them to flee PDQ, so there might be a supporter of Voldemort somewhere who wants to try and kill you for revenge. A convenient 'accident' during this Tri-Wizard Tournament seems like a good bet. In addition, there's some doubt Voldemort is truly dead: given the books you managed to get me from Mahoutokoro, Harry, there's more than a few ways he could have cheated death…and ways he could get a new body. They're only alluded to, but…well, Voldemort was reputedly obsessed with immortality."

"Whoever it is, they'll regret it," Kusano declared.

And Harry was glad of it. Here, he had true family, not of blood, but of bonds. Okay, it was a strange family, but frankly, after the Dursleys' idea of normality, he wanted no truck with that. He had Miya and Takehito, his mother and father by deed and love. He had Matsu, the closest thing he had to a true aunt, and not that equine hag. He had the Sahashis and their Sekirei, and the Tohsaka girls.

And he had Kusano. It was strange, how their relationship transmuted from that of siblings to boyfriend and girlfriend, though it helped that they weren't related. Hard to get more distant, genetically, than being from different species (even if they were capable of having offspring with each other). But they were bound together, and not just by the Sekirei bond. Time had only strengthened their emotional bond.

Some idiots viewed the Ashikabi and their Sekirei as one of master and servant or servants, like House Elves. But in truth, those who had bonded to those they reacted to had a more equal relationship. It helped that Harry and Kusano were bound only to each other, so Ku didn't have to share, much to her delight. Oh, she wouldn't be averse to others joining in once they were old enough to have some real fun, but she was glad that she was the sole Sekirei of her Ashikabi. She certainly enjoyed teasing Tsukiumi, who had gotten it into her head that she was the sole 'true wife' of Minato's Flock.

But Kusano had a protective streak for Harry, a streak Harry shared for his Sekirei. When they first met, they were lost and alone, with Kusano threatened with unwilling Winging, and Harry was adrift in a strange country. Even divided by a language barrier, as they had been at the time, Harry and Ku had vowed to help each other in their own minds.

Now, that was going to be put to the test…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, there you have it. Next chapter, the Weighing of the Wands, and Dumbledore plotting.**

 **You'll notice the heavy** ** _Fate/Stay Night_** **and** ** _Fate/Zero_** **influences. That's deliberate, avoiding having to whip up a bunch of OCs with badly-chosen names. Magecraft doesn't exist in this universe, and unlike the Nasuverse, Tokiomi didn't give up Sakura to the Matous, so Sakura hasn't had to deal with the whole rape-worm ordeal. They'll be a bit OOC to their Nasuverse versions, but chalk that up to this not being the Nasuverse. They'll play minor roles at best, though.**

 **1\. Based on the urbane and genial but elitist Magus of the same name from** ** _Fate/Zero_** **. I thought of him as basically being Fudge if he was actually VERY competent: somewhat old-fashioned and nepotistic, but far more capable than Fudge of running Magical Japan, and certainly more pragmatic, even when dealing with his enemies.**

 **2\. I did the same reference and wand in** ** _Wings of the Forsaken_** **, and yes, there will be Sekirei hairs in it this time too. Hisau is a reference to Maiya Hisau, Kiritsugu Emiya's offsider and lover.**

 **3\. I thought Kariya deserved a better life than what he got in** ** _Fate/Zero_** **, so being a relatively happy DADA teacher (he's basically like James Potter or Sirius Black in this story, a rebel against most Pureblood traditions rather than wholeheartedly rejecting the magical world like he does in** ** _Fate/Zero_** **) and Winging Yashima (who also deserved better than in** ** _Sekirei_** **canon) gives him that.**


	103. Men of Focus Chapter 1

**So, here I am again, with yet another challenge response to whitetigerwolf. However, I do have them to thank for getting me onto the brillian action film _John Wick_ , purely so I could think about whether to do this challenge, and at least one other, that they posted. This is also another WBWL, albeit one modelled more after _Disquiet_ , with the bashing of James and Sirius toned down somewhat (but still present: they're still very much villains, or at least James is, as I am undecided about Sirius).**

 **Here, Harry is the grandson (through Lily) of Winston, and the bastard child of John Wick. Those were recommendations for the challenge rather than the requirements. It's set during sixth year, but Harry and the others have had their age advanced by one year. In addition, this will be an Icy Harmony story, my term for Harry/Hermione/Daphne (I dunno whether anyone has coined that term yet, but I've decided on it). Anyway, I hope you enjoy...**

 **Oh, and if you want more _John Wick_ goodness, try my one-shot crossover between _John Wick_ and _The Sandman_ : _Death and Baba Yaga_.**

* * *

 _ **MEN OF FOCUS**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **CONSOLATION**

It's something of a cliché perpetrated by fiction, particularly Hollywood, that it always rains at funerals, as a form of visual shorthand to show the misery and sorrow present. Even so, the emotions represented by the rain were very real. This was not the sort of rain that washed away sins, but which drowned people in misery. Certainly, the man it was centred on seemed supremely miserable, in a somewhat stoic way. Dark hair framed lugubriously handsome features, his facial hair putting some in mind of a skull, not helped by the hollow and haunted nature of his features.

After shaking hands with a craggy-faced man with brown hair, the bereaved man turned to head to his car, only to find a pair of people next to it. Both were teenagers, albeit about 17. One was a bushy-haired girl in a wheelchair, the rain kept off her by an umbrella held by her companion, a dark-haired boy with piercing emerald eyes and a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt snaking out from beneath his messy fringe. "Harry?" the man asked. "Why are you here?"

"Why wouldn't I be, Dad?" the boy asked in his turn. "I liked Helen too. Anyway, I was worried about you. So's Grandpa."

The faintest of smiles touched the man's lips. "…I appreciate it. Do you want to come back to the wake?"

"We intended to," the girl said. "Mum and Dad are away on business, and Daphne's not due over for another day or so. Winston wanted us to make sure you were all right, John. He worries about you. A lot. So does Moony."

John nodded wearily. He didn't really want too many reminders of his old life, one he thought he had left far behind, but he appreciated the gesture all the same. And while Winston loomed large as a reminder of that old, bloodstained life, John also knew that Winston favoured him, and could even be said to be a friend, like Marcus was. Hell, the old man was effectively his father-in-law, though he sometimes acted a bit like a toned-down mother hen.

"Incidentally, you have some good news, Dad," his son said. "That idiot Santino got killed by his sister while trying to organise a coup against her. That means the Marker is now nil and void, as his sister has no interest in bringing you out of retirement."

Another faint smile touched John's lips, of relief and gratitude more than anything else. He was desperate when he asked for that favour from Santino D'Antonio, a favour that Santino could have called in, dragged him back into a life he didn't want to be in. A life he still was haunted by. First Marcus, and then his bastard son and his lover, though both were at least relatively benign visitations: Marcus actually cared about him, and his son and lover, while still connected to that underworld, also made sure to try and keep him away from it.

"Well…do you want to ride with me?" John asked.

His son, Harry Wick, nodded. "Always."

* * *

It had been a brief dalliance. The woman had taken refuge at the Continental in London, during the early stages of John Wick's career as a hitman of the underworld, and before he became feared as 'Baba Yaga'. The woman was the second daughter of Winston Evans, a man who could best be described as a facilitator in the underworld, particularly when it came to assassins, and a man who tried to keep his family life as separate as possible from his career. Unfortunately, an argument with his wife led to a divorce, and the oldest sister, Petunia, had sided with the mother.

The younger sister, Lily, had kept in contact with her father, and had been promised refuge within the Continental whenever she needed it. So, after being duped and drugged into being married to a rich bully of a lord, when she realised what had happened after the honeymoon, she had fled to the Continental. There, she was comforted by a younger John Wick. Comfort led to them sharing the same bed. John had forgotten that dalliance, and Lily was abducted from the Continental by her husband, drugged once more, and forced into hiding, preventing Winston from tracking them down.

It wasn't until two years later that Winston, rather surprisingly, got contacted by Petunia: Lily had been murdered by a terrorist. A wizarding terrorist called Voldemort. Winston was aware of the wizarding world, as many of his assassins and their targets were in that domain, and he knew Lily had been targeted by Voldemort.

As it turned out, Voldemort attacked Lily, her children, and that bastard of a husband. The husband survived, sadly, as he was going to be made to watch his wife and children die. Lily died while protecting her children from Voldemort…and then Voldemort apparently died when he tried to kill the children.

Now, apparently, the husband, James Potter, knew that one of Lily's sons wasn't his own. Apparently it was a case of heteropaternal superfecundation. Or, in layman's terms, Lily gave birth to twin boys, conceived by two different fathers. Rare, but not unheard of. Charles Potter was James', and Harry was John Wick's child. Apparently, not long before Voldemort attacked, James had ordered a paternity test.

When that old fool Dumbledore declared Charles to be the Boy Who Lived, for surviving the Killing Curse, James Potter immediately went to work. Behind Dumbledore's back, he used a forbidden ritual from the Black family library to transfer Harry's magical potential all to Charles, and then discarded Harry to the Dursleys, hoping that the xenophobic family would mistreat him. A fitting end, he thought, for a bastard child his unfaithful wife bore him, ignoring that fact that he had ensnared her with Amortentia, a dangerous 'love potion'.

But Petunia was canny enough to find someone else more interested in raising the boy. So she contacted Winston, and sent Harry to Winston at the New York Continental. Winston, who was curious about Harry's paternity, had the Goblins administer a test, and he was surprised to discover it was John Wick.

John didn't find this out until much later. It wasn't until Harry was ten that John met him, and found out, through Winston, who he was. By this point, Harry had been raised by Winston in the Continental, and was known to the staff. Winston hadn't told John because he didn't need the burden, or so Winston thought, and Winston hadn't told Harry, at least until his tenth birthday, because he wasn't sure Harry was ready to know that his father was an infamous hitman. But during an argument, it came out.

The meeting between father and son was, admittedly, somewhat awkward. It took time for Harry to warm to John: Harry admired John's skills as a hitman, but was still angry at him not being there for his mother, in that childish way, not accepting the fact that James Potter managed to kidnap Lily from the Continental. To Harry, every Continental was an impenetrable fortress, unable to be breached by any enemy.

But over time, Harry warmed to John, even adopting his last name, and their relationship improved, especially when Helen entered the picture. While Harry's home was firmly at the Continental, he did ensure to visit John and Helen. Helen was aware, albeit in broad strokes only, of John's former career in both the army and the underworld, and she welcomed Harry into their life regardless. She did the same for Hermione when she came into Harry's life.

Hermione's parents claimed to be dentists, but in fact, the Grangers were amongst Britain's most feared assassins. While they were qualified in dental medicine, in truth, they called themselves dentists as something of a bad joke: they liked to remove bad teeth, as well as fill holes. The latter being either dental cavities, or graves(1).

Hermione was a witch, apparently, but had been badly injured in her first year at Hogwarts in an incident involving a troll, an injury that, even with magical healing, left her a paraplegic. That, plus bullying, had led to Hermione withdrawing from Hogwarts, and, after hearing from Winston of tutors he had hired for Harry (it was potentially too dangerous for the son of John Wick to attend even a normal magical school like Ilvermorny), they emigrated to New York. It was there that she met Harry for the first time. Having had unpleasant memories of his brother, she was rather understandably wary. But over time, the two became friends, and in truth, they became something not unlike mascots, not quite innocent, but certainly of a brighter side than the seedy dealings the Continental was known for.

Harry was being groomed into Winston's heir, and Hermione would become part of the new Continental. There was, admittedly, a brief speedbump recently when a powerful British wizarding family, the Greengrasses, sought some extra power in the US, and sought to betroth their eldest daughter to Harry, knowing that, as heir to the Continental, they would have considerable power over the underworld, both mundane and magical. But Harry and Hermione worked it out, and Daphne Greengrass was part of what was, unofficially, a _ménage a trois_.

While John wasn't happy that Harry was willingly part of the underworld, he at least understood why, and he was happy for his son. And he was grateful that his son and his paramour cared about him. He needed it…

* * *

John invited Harry and Hermione to stay the night at his place: he had guest bedrooms that were rarely used, and he also wanted to take the two for a cathartic spin in his Mustang Mach 1. But long after the other guests left, there was a ring on the doorbell. John left the other two in the living room, before coming back with an animal carrier and a letter, which he opened. He read silently, before the usually-stoic man broke down into quiet sobs.

"What does it say?" Hermione asked quietly.

After a moment, John said quietly, his voice thick with emotion, "It's from Helen." He couldn't say anything else. Then, he gently leaned forward, and opened up the animal carrier, and coaxing out a beagle puppy. Holding the dog aloft, he checked the collar. "Daisy…" he murmured. "Her name is Daisy…"

* * *

It was later the next day, and they were all in the Mustang together. John's expression had lightened a little. Not that much: Helen's death still hung a pall over John, but he seemed like he wanted to enjoy himself, and share that enjoyment with his new dog, as well as his son and his son's girlfriend. They were going to fuel up before taking the Mustang out for a spin on part of an old airfield John had contacts at.

As John fuelled the car up, Harry noticed a car filled with a bunch of young thugs pulling up. He recognised one of them, his eyes narrowing. Iosef Tarasov, the son of Viggo Tarasov, John's former main employer. A hot shot thug who thought he was hot shit because his father was the leader of the most powerful Russian mob family in town. Harry had only met Iosef once before when he had been tasked by his grandfather to deliver some documents to the Red Circle, a nightclub the Russians owned. And he didn't like the hedonistic, spoilt little oik. At least Viggo, for all the fact that he was a vicious, ruthless bastard, also had a brain in his noggin. Iosef didn't.

Iosef noticed the Mustang, and swaggered over to it while his entourage went into the gas station. "Nice ride there," he said. "Mustang, Boss 429. She a '70?"

"69," John said as he finished fuelling up, having paid for the fuel.

"It's a beautiful car." As John nodded, Iosef asked, "How much?"

"I'm sorry?"

"For the car? How much do you want for it?"

"She's not for sale," John said, getting into the car.

Iosef, however, leaned in and pet Daisy's head, cooing insincerely about the dog. Then, he said in Russian, " _Everything's got its price, bitch._ "

" _Not this bitch_ ," John retorted calmly in the same language.

"Iosef, don't bother," Harry said. "It's got sentimental value."

"Nobody asked your opinion, kid," Iosef sneered, any pretence of civility gone. "The adults are talking."

Harry nodded at John. Then in Russian, he said, " _Ask your father who John Wick is. Just buy a Mustang on eBay or from a dealer or something. You've got more than enough money._ "

Iosef seemed about to retort, but was gently led away by one of his entourage, a hulking Russian who said to John and the others, in a thick accented voice, "You have good day, yes?"

"Why did you say that?" John asked irritably as they drove away.

"His name is Iosef Tarasov, Dad," Harry said. "That wanker's Viggo's spoilt little brat. And he doesn't take no for an answer."

"Viggo?" Hermione asked. "The head of the Russian Mafiya here? That's his son? Merlin, he reminds me of Draco Malfoy, except with fewer social graces. And I can't believe I'm saying that," she added with a grimace.

"With any luck, he'll do the smart thing and ask his father about you," Harry said. "I don't want him to get any bright ideas and try to steal your car and hurt you or Daisy."

John nodded, accepting it, even if he didn't like it. Instead, he kept driving, intending on having a good day just hooning around the airfield. Still, none of those in the car could shake off a feeling of unease. Like a premonition of something bad yet to come…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, there you have it. Harry and Hermione comforting John Wick, and a hint of things to come. And yes, the events of the first film will happen (Iosef being an arrogant and idiotic dick), though Harry and Hermione will be involved in the periphery. The second film, well, no.**

 **Events in this fic will be not unlike** ** _Disquiet_** **, only with a less evil James and Sirius (but still bashable). So Dumbledore, while antagonistic, is only antagonistic due to him being in moral opposition to Harry and John Wick's methods.**

 **1\. It was a joke I made up for my** ** _Resident Evil_** **crossover** ** _Henry Ashford and the Goblet of Fire_** **.**


	104. Men of Focus Chapter 2

**I was actually quite astonished at the response to _Men of Focus_ (which I should point out is actually a working title: it may be published under another one if and when this is published as a full fic), and I'm glad of it. However, while this is partly my own damn fault for not making it clearer (I'll make it clearer in the published fic), Harry is NOT a Squib. He still has his magic. James TRIED to Squib-ify Harry, true, but didn't succeed. Harry is probably closer to Kiritsugu Emiya from _Fate/Zero_ : he has magic abilities (and is quite skilled with them), but he prefers to use mundane methods if they work better.**

 **I originally thought of the WBWL character as having died shortly before these events begin, somewhat like _Disquiet_ , but I then hit upon an idea, a very interesting idea. This will be the first story I do where the WBWL is an out-and-out villain, and not just an antagonist...though there's a good reason for that.**

* * *

 _ **MEN OF FOCUS**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **DAPHNE**

Harry gently helped Hermione out of the bath the next morning, both being naked and wet from their shared bath. While having a somewhat stubborn and independent streak, Hermione had come to accept Harry as her helper as well as her boyfriend, and she appreciated the gesture. The fact that they had become intimate over the past year helped matters, and sometimes, bath time became more of pleasure than business. Not that she minded.

Hermione was struck by the contrast between Harry and his fraternal twin half-brother, and not just physically. While Harry wasn't exactly humble, he certainly seemed that way in comparison to Charles. It was more that his confidence was understated, whereas Charles wore it on his sleeve. Harry was not intimidated by her intelligence, nor was he repulsed by it, whereas Charles, along with Ron, had called her a 'bossy little know-it-all with no friends'.

"Do you think Iosef would leave John alone?" Hermione asked. They had taken a Portkey back to the Continental yesterday after the rather thrilling driving session on the airfield.

"I hope so, but Iosef's an idiot," Harry said as he towelled her down, while she enjoyed the intimacy of the action. "He's really little more than an enforcer in terms of skill, even if he has delusional ambitions to take over after his father dies. If he actually called his father, then Dad's got nothing to worry about. Viggo will set Iosef straight. But if Iosef is stupid enough to attack John…well, let's hope that all Dad has to do is make some dinner reservations."

Hermione grimaced. 'Dinner reservations' was Continental-parlance for body disposal and crime scene cleaning. Dinner reservations for twelve, for example, meant twelve bodies to clean up. "Should I feel sorry for Iosef?"

"Feel sorry for his father. His father is a vicious son of a bitch, but he actually has some small heart left in him," Harry said. "Iosef though…I guess what you said about him being the Russian mafiya version of a Malfoy isn't far off the mark, from what you and Daph have told me."

Hermione nodded as Harry finished towelling her down. "You know, it's weird. I used to have this worship for rules. I think Mum and Dad put that into me so that I wouldn't follow in their footsteps. And yet, here I am, boyfriend to the heir to a criminal empire."

"And in a polyamorous relationship to boot," Harry said cheekily, as he helped his lover to don a silk dressing gown, before she clambered carefully into her wheelchair.

"How can I forget?" Hermione asked with a wry smile. "Well, better Daph than some of them. Half the Gryffindor girls I met were gossipy hens, and half the Slytherins were bitches, like Pansy. At least Daphne actually liked to study with me…until the troll."

Harry nodded solemnly. It had been a relatively small thing with big consequences. She had tried to help some little brat called Ron Weasley, a Pureblood whose family had ties to the Potters, in Charms, only for Ron and his half-brother to tear her verbally to shreds after the class. Hermione had fled to hide in a bathroom, and had stayed there for the rest of the day (which was Halloween, a date the pair had bad associations with for different reasons). And then, the troll came.

Hermione was lucky to survive. She had massive internal bleeding, a shattered pelvis, broken legs and a pulverised spine. The Healer of Hogwarts, Pomfrey, did her best, and managed to restore Hermione's broken bones, but her spinal nerves had been shot to hell. She couldn't walk again, and prosthetics that could allow her to walk were never sold to Muggleborns (or Newbloods, as they were called in the US). And even if they could get them off the black market, they needed to be adjusted to suit her growing frame. So, Hermione was holding off until she had finished growing.

She had been pulled from Hogwarts once it was clear no punishment, beyond a simple detention, would be given to the boys indirectly responsible, nor was there any progress in an investigation made into the troll's appearance. The Grangers decided to go abroad, and use their contacts within the Continental to get some education for Hermione, as Hogwarts, or indeed any magical school, was far from wheelchair-friendly. And in New York, she met Harry.

"So, what should we do today? Do any work on our NEWTs?" Hermione asked.

"Actually, I was thinking of taking you to the Museum of Natural History," Harry said. "I mean, the last couple of days was kind of depressing, what with the funeral and dealing with Iosef. I don't feel like business or education today, well, except for going to the museum. We'll head to the Newt Scamander Wing. I'll call the curator. So, what do you say?"

Hermione smiled. "Harry, I say yes."

* * *

It was a good day, Harry reflected as he walked alongside Hermione as she pushed her wheelchair along the floor. He would have done it himself, but she wanted to exercise her muscles and something of her independence. The Newt Scamander Wing of the American Museum of Natural History was not open to members of the No-Maj public, or at least those not in the know. Harry didn't know whether 'No-Maj' or 'Muggle' was more derogatory, albeit condescendingly so rather than actually racist.

Anyway, the Newt Scamander Wing was brought into existence shortly after the end of the Second World War, about two decades after Newt Scamander's infamous trip to New York. While mostly dedicated to magizoology (many of the exhibits seemed like they were straight out of the book _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ ), some were also dedicated to the 1926 incident and others thereafter, where Gellert Grindlewald tried to manipulate events for his own gain. There was an exhibit on the Second Salemers, modern witch hunters, and their then-leader Mary Lou Barebone, as well as her son, Credence, who was actually an Obscurial.

An Obscurial was a magical child whose gifts are repressed psychologically, often by parental or guardian abuse. This repression can cause the formation of a parasite called an Obscurus, a sentient tempest of magical energy like a living dark cloud. Extremely destructive, to say the least.

Hermione's eyes lingered on the exhibit about Credence and his Obscurus. Obscuri were frightening, fascinating, and tragic entities. From what they both read about 1926, Credence had their sympathies, as did Newt Scamander and his allies. Grindlewald, however…well, Harry wished that old bastard would suffer more in prison. And that bitch Mary Lou Barebone had too quick a death.

As they lingered, they heard a cool, confident voice say, "I thought I'd find you two here."

They turned around to find a blonde-haired girl about their age, her features regal and beautiful, looking at them, only the slightest twitch of her lips betraying her inner amusement. "Hey, Daph," Harry said. "I thought we were going to meet tonight at the Continental."

"I was, but my parents decided to bring me here early," the girl said. "Things are getting dangerous in Magical Britain."

"Dangerous?" Hermione asked.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Don't you ever read any imported copies of _The Daily Prophet?_ "

"Not anymore. It's got even more depressingly stupid since the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament," Harry said. "The last I heard was Dumbledore claiming Voldemort had come back from the grave, and then the Ministry went into full-on slander mode against Dumbledore and the Potters."

"That just about sums it up. And when I say dangerous, I mean even more so. Some Ministry toady, literally, as in some ghastly toad-like woman by the name of Umbridge, was brought in as an absolutely useless DADA teacher," Daphne said.

"Isn't that the one who was Senior Undersecretary to Fudge?" Hermione asked. "And wasn't Black DADA teacher?"

"Fudge and the Board of Governors for Hogwarts installed Umbridge as High Inquisitor initially, but she managed to get Black fired on a pretext by provoking him into using the Cruciatus on her, so she claimed. Though to be honest, she's so annoying, I wouldn't be surprised if Black did use the Cruciatus on her. He barely avoided going to Azkaban, but he got fired. Though I think he got his job back after Umbridge got deposed. Long story short, she was there to basically be Fudge's hatchet man, discrediting your half-brother as well as Dumbledore and his allies. Your brother was smarter than her, though, and managed to get her to confess to her crimes. Very Slytherin of him, even if he's in Gryffindor. Actually, he set up a sort of private DADA class, the Defence Association. But the way he went about it…well, it's disturbing. It's almost like he was recruiting his own army for his own benefit."

"Probably to bignote himself," Harry muttered bitterly. "Or to ape Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix."

"Well, in any case, Charles got it into his head to head to the Department of Mysteries, taking a few of his friends with him. Ron and Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood. He claims he saw a vision of Voldemort torturing Black in the Prophecy Hall. It was a trap. Ron fell through the Veil in the Death Room, and his sister followed him, despite Charles' attempts to hold her back. Neville and Luna are alive, but in St Mungo's. However, the bright side is that the Dark Lord was exposed in front of the Minister."

"Voldemort, Daph, remember, the Taboo isn't in place at the moment," Harry said.

The blonde rolled her eyes. "Yes, but for how long? In any case, my father's under pressure to betroth me to Malfoy, in spite of my current betrothal to you. Voldemort is making it clear that he refuses to have any fence-sitters. As does James Potter, but he won't kill anyone who doesn't take his side…well, save for Death Eaters. We'll have to have the actual wedding before long, and I will have to continue my education here, as much as I don't particularly want to."

"Shotgun wedding, then? Should we go west to Vegas?" Harry asked facetiously, only for Hermione to jab him with her elbow.

Daphne snorted. "The Continental has a chapel. That will more than suffice. My parents are waiting back at the Continental. I believe they had business to discuss with Winston. In fact, I think they may wish to retain the services of those employed by the Continental."

Hermione blinked. "A dinner party?"

"I believe so."

Harry looked at Daphne. "For the Death Eaters?"

"Yes."

Oh dear. That would be interesting. Harry wondered whether he should contact his father's old colleague Marcus, see whether he was willing to help out…

* * *

The trio made their way back to the Continental after leaving the museum and having a brief walk through Central Park. The concierge, Charon, looked up, and smiled. Harry had come to think of the tall, sardonic black man as an uncle, much like Moony. "Good afternoon, Harry and Hermione. And Miss Greengrass, it's nice to have you back."

"Good afternoon, Charon," Harry said. "Any messages for us?"

"Only that your grandfather wanted your opinion on a few new complaints," Charon said. "And as you are working with Hermione in the Complaints Department…"

Harry and Hermione frowned when they heard that. "I see. Has someone asked to see the manager, or is it just correspondence?" Harry asked.

"The latter, purely," Charon said with a reassuring smile. "Oh, and the Sommelier wants your help in some wine-tasting."

Harry returned that smile. "Thanks, Charon. Is this the sort of thing my fiancée can sit in on?"

"But of course."

* * *

"What was that all about?" Daphne asked as they used a private elevator. "I'm not wholly conversant with the parlance the Continental uses. I know the Sommelier is the quartermaster of this organisation, so wine-tasting means some sort of weapons-testing, but I've never heard of the Complaints Department."

"It's a joke of my grandfather's, like so many of the euphemisms he employs," Harry said. "The Complaints Department relates to two things: intelligence and discipline. 'Written correspondence' and 'phone correspondence' is general intelligence, gained either through informants or through our spies. If someone has 'asked to see the manager', it means that someone has broken the rules of the Continental, or else is walking the line, and so we have to deal with either disciplining them, or executing them. Of course, killing or attempting to kill someone on the grounds of the Continental is grounds for immediate execution."

"Yes, I'm well aware, unless you are an authorised member of Continental staff acting on the express approval of your grandfather," Daphne said. "Remember, when we first met, you killed that idiot?"

"Oh, I know who you mean. Travis, I think his name was(1)." Harry shook his head. Nobody would mourn Travis, who was a vicious and greedy lunatic of an assassin. It was the first time Harry had ever used the Killing Curse. It wasn't the last, though it was rare that someone broke the rules of the Continental, and even rarer that Harry carried out the punishment.

"Anyway, all Grandpa wants us to do is double-check some intelligence reports for him, something he needs a second opinion on, I guess. He trusts Hermione and me with this. And if Charon said it's okay for you to watch, then I guess it's nothing sensitive."

Daphne nodded, absorbing the information. If she was to be wed to Harry, then she would need to know this, in order to help him run the Continental alongside Hermione. And the thought of working with intelligence appealed to her Slytherin instincts. After all, every Slytherin worth their salt made a mental catalogue of leverage and intelligence on all other students of note. Malfoy was filled with bluster and venom, and so were his compatriots, not knowing what true Slytherins did.

The fact that she would be helping run a criminal enterprise didn't bother Daphne at all. The Continental and its associated assassins was of a higher standard that most other such organisations, and the monies involved was astonishing. She could do far, far worse. And it didn't hurt that her paramours were intelligent and easy on the eyes too.

So, Daphne looked forward to learning the ropes for the future. In fact, given the way Magical Britain was going at the moment, this was her best chance at _having_ a future…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Daphne's arrived in New York, and we've had some lovely Harmony moments. Next chapter, John Wick begins his rampage…**

 **1\. Travis is the name of one of Roj Blake's recurring adversaries in the TV series** ** _Blake's 7_** **. Originally a sadistic, brutal enforcer of the Terran Federation, he was forced to cut ties after being made a scapegoat by his superior, Servalan, and ended up betraying humanity to a genocidal alien species.**


	105. Nec Aspera Terrent Chapter 1

**So, a few of my followers will have noticed a few _Worm_ fics I have been batting about, like my one-shot pilot for a _Fate/Stay Night_ crossover _Magissa: Origins_ , or my _Naruto_ reincarnation fic _Tobi Taylor's Trolling Tales_. Well, this is my attempt at doing a Potterverse one, albeit one where the emphasis of the story is on the Potterverse. After the initial chapter, no more characters from the _Worm_ -verse will appear. I'm deliberately leaving parts of the backstories vague, as I haven't read _Worm_ beyond the first arc, and there's only so much you can research from the Wiki.**

 **This is also another attempt at doing whitetigerwolf's 'Chef' challenge, though I don't think I have succeeded, as Harry still has worked in the field with his girls. Still, Harry is paired with Taylor/Skitter, Sarah/Lisa/Tattletale, and Amy/Panacea.**

 **The title, BTW, means, roughly, 'difficulties be damned'.**

* * *

 _ **NEC ASPERA TERRENT**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **ESCAPE**

"We can't stay here for long," the blonde, freckled girl in the dark skinsuit muttered furtively as she paced the room. "They'll find us."

The dark-haired boy with green eyes and a similar, green skinsuit nodded. They were currently in the basement of an abandoned building, abandoned because this town had been decimated by the Slaughterhouse 9, though given the tenacity of their pursuers, maybe not for long. "How long, Tats?"

"Stop calling me that, Typhon," she retorted with good humour, before she frowned. "I don't honestly know. Between the precog Thinkers that the Cauldron and the PRT have between them, on top of satellites and other things…it could be any minute now, or up to a day. I'm sorry, I really am, and it's pretty scary not being able to figure things out, but…"

"We need to stop long enough for Bitch to get healed by Panacea and to boot Dragon back up," Typhon said. "Defiant may have been an asshole, but he died helping us get Dragon out. And Dragon's helped us before. Anyway, Skitter's going to keep an eye out. And I've got our friend running interference."

The girl chuckled. "Only you, Typhon, would call an Endbringer a friend. I'd be angrier with how much that's screwed us over, but…you're a good friend." She gave a knowing smirk. "And a great lover. I wonder if they'll allow us to have conjugal visits within the Birdcage?"

"I dunno. But I'm damned if I'm going to go there without a fight. You'd think they'd be grateful to us, stopping the Slaughterhouse 9 and dealing with the gangs back at Brockton Bay. But no, they used our existence as an independent group over us."

"Cool name, though," the girl said. "The Cleaners."

A dark-haired girl wearing glasses and wearing a dark outfit came in. "Sarah, Harry, I can't see anything at the moment. But knowing what's happened, it's only a matter of time. Amy's managed to heal Rachel, but Rachel's taking the loss of Judas pretty badly."

"What about Dragon?" Typhon, now named Harry, asked.

"She's still booting back up. Whatever they used on her wasn't as bad as this Ascalon thing Saint was supposed to have, but…" The girl ran a hand through her thick curls. "Defiant warned us Richter put in some emergency measures that cut in while he was trying to unchain her."

Harry nodded, before his eyes widened. "Shit, she's got something on her! They're trying to backtrace my link to her! We've got to…what the hell?!"

The room was suddenly filled with flickering blue flames, centred around Harry. He dashed through into another room, where a few others were gathered. And the flames were filling this room too. A mousy-looking befreckled girl in white robes looked up. "What's happening?" she asked in understandable confusion.

"I don't know, I…" Harry began, before something seemed to clench the air around them. In a flare of cyan light, they were gone.

* * *

And in the skies some distance away, where a number of smaller figures were fighting against a larger one, one that resembled a bizarre angel with asymmetrical wings and grey eyes, the angel's grey eyes suddenly widened, and with a shriek, it disappeared from the world in a blast of blue flames. All that it left in its wake was puzzlement and fear.

For weeks, months, even years to come, the inhabitants of Earth Bet, or at least those in the know, puzzled over the disappearance of the rogue parahuman group known as the Cleaners and, more concernedly, the Endbringer known as the Simurgh. Those orchestrating certain events had intended to take this wayward group of (mostly) teenagers and take them to the Birdcage, to be released when they were needed. Instead, they had disappeared, along with one of the monsters terrorising the world.

To some, the disappearance of both an Endbringer and a troublesome parahuman group was cause for celebration. But they were the ignorant ones. Those who knew were considerably more troubled. They tried in vain to track their fugitives down, even looking to other worlds, for they had sources that claimed that Harry came from another world, one that sounded like Earth Aleph.

In truth, Harry Potter had been born on a version of Earth never touched by the Entities and their shards. But just because the Entities had not interfered with that Earth did not mean that extraordinary powers didn't exist. They did, but in hiding, and it was one of those extraordinary powers that had reached out to grasp Harry Potter…and had pulled him back home, whether he liked it or not…

* * *

Where in the world was Harry Potter?

This had been a driving question in virtually everybody's minds in Magical Britain. It had been, ever since he had been revealed to be missing not long before his tenth birthday, when he seemingly vanished from his relatives' home during a violent storm. Four years since that night, nobody was close to an answer, not even the man who was supposed to hold all the answers to Magical Britain's problems, Professor Albus Dumbledore.

The man himself had been guilt-ridden when, while investigating the Dursleys' home, he learned of what happened. While he suspected that the Dursleys might treat Harry coldly, he never truly believed they would descend into outright abuse and virtual slavery. It was certainly all he could do not to succumb to the temptation of using the Cruciatus on them. He couldn't even tell whether Harry was alive or dead: while the instruments showing Harry's location and general condition were dead, they had died when Harry disappeared in a blast of lightning, and Dumbledore found traces of magic not wholly inconsistent with Apparition, albeit with other traces he couldn't identify.

The past few years had also been eventful. An attempt to lure Voldemort out of hiding nearly went awry, with a promising Muggleborn student nearly getting killed (though Miss Granger survived, and indeed, began to thrive). A diary containing a Horcrux was planted on a student, thus allowing the Horcrux to possess said student and unleash a Basilisk. Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban, and had been Kissed by a Dementor, though not before revealing the true traitor to be Peter Pettigrew. And now, the revival of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, a half-baked scheme thought up by that punch drunk fool Bagman and that bureaucratic pedant Barty Crouch Senior.

Dumbledore also knew it would be too much to hope for a quiet year, even without the Tournament. The Death Eaters running riot at the Quidditch World Cup and the Dark Mark appearing were a sign of things to come, he was sure. And Severus mentioned his Dark Mark tattoo getting darker.

So, it was to his utter surprise that a fourth piece of paper spat from the Goblet of Fire, and upon it was a name he had not expected to see on it. For a moment, he stared in shock at it, before reading out the name. One spoken in a tone of fear and hope. Hope that he was wrong, that the person the name was attached to was still alive…and fear that said person was either dead…or about to be drawn into something against his will.

"Harry Potter."

Suddenly, the Goblet flared, and a blue flame burst from it, streaking out through the doors. On instinct, Dumbledore hurried out, Crouch, Bagman, Moody, and the heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang following. He followed the flame out to the grounds, only to see, on a cold, large patch of grass, a flare of blue flame.

A small group of people eventually appeared within the azure conflagration, most of them in their late teens. There was one adult, a woman, and there seemed to be a pair of dogs. But their costumes were somewhat strange and eclectic, to say the least.

There were a couple of dark-skinned teenagers, apparently brother and sister, the latter being particularly young. There was a boy in old-fashioned clothing and wielding a sceptre. There was a rather muscular girl half-wearing a mask looking like a snarling dog, who stayed close to the dogs and looked at them with wary, barely-restrained belligerence. There was a rather mousy-looking girl in white robes. There was a woman, half-sitting, wearing green, draconic armour. There was a tall, thin girl with glasses and wearing a dark outfit. There was a blonde girl wearing a figure-hugging black and purple one.

But it was the boy in the green outfit that caught his attention most of all. Messy black hair, emerald green eyes, and, even in the moonlight, he could see the scar zig-zagging out from beneath his fringe. It was like looking at James Potter reborn, albeit with green eyes and no glasses. Terrible hopes and fears were born in that moment in Dumbledore's heart.

All of the group seemed wary, on-edge, though the blonde girl, as Dumbledore and his impromptu entourage approached, remarked, "Well, Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore." Her accent had an American drawl. East Coast, maybe Massachusetts or thereabouts? "Did we end up at someone's LARPing session or something?"

The scarred boy raised a hand to his head, and said, his voice betraying a mixture of an English accent and the same American accent, "Guys…Zizzy just said we've…well, we've gone across worlds. And timelines. She can't feel the presence of any others like her, and she can't even feel Eidolon's presence. She's looking down at our position from orbit. We're in…Scotland."

The woman looked up at the sky. After a moment, she said, "And judging by star positions, we're in late autumn. I'd be more precise, but I've just rebooted. There's an energy field impinging on my sensors too." She then shook her head, and then walked over to Dumbledore. Her face was attractive, but didn't seem to be of any definable ethnicity. "Good evening. Can you confirm our location, as well as shed some light on what happened?"

"…You are indeed in Scotland, my dear woman," Dumbledore replied diplomatically.

"She's a Muggle," Crouch said. "We need to contact the Obliviators."

"Hey, watch what you say to Dragon!" the scarred boy snapped. "She's just lost her best friend! Okay, he was an asshole, but he was trying to make up for that! Anyway, who are the Obliviators? Some special unit of the PRT?"

"It's okay," Dragon said quietly, though her eyes were filled with sadness at the reminder of, presumably, another's passing. She then looked at Dumbledore. "Well?"

"…I believe he mentioned that you came from another world?" Dumbledore asked. He was humouring them for the time being, because they may have just offered absolution to one of his greatest regrets. "We don't know about a PRT."

"No Parahuman Response Team?" Dragon asked, confused.

"No. Is this a Muggle organisation? Where do you come from? Geographically, I mean."

"Brockton Bay," the tall, thin girl supplied.

"I don't believe I've ever heard of the place," Dumbledore said.

"No, but you know who he is," the blonde girl said, indicating the scarred boy. "I can tell these things. Looks like he wasn't crazy after all. He came from a world without capes. But not without powers. Though seriously, why are you dressed like a pantomime Merlin?"

"Seriously?" the tall, thin girl asked. "Given what we're wearing, and what lots of people were wearing back home, that's what you're taking issue with, Tattletale?"

The girl called Tattletale sighed, before saying, "Okay, what's the date?"

"Halloween, 1994," Moody supplied in his customary growl.

"Well, when we left, it was 2013. Typhon here said it was 1990 when he…well, ended up in Brockton Bay. Okay. Introductions. I'm Tattletale. This here is Typhon." She indicated the scarred boy. "You've met Dragon. That's Skitter." She indicated the tall, thin girl with glasses. "Those two are Grue and Imp, and that fop with the staff is Regent."

"Fuck you, Tattletale," the boy with the old-fashioned clothing retorted good-naturedly.

"That's Panacea," Tattletale said, indicating the brown-haired mousy girl, "and that's Bitch, or Hellhound if you want to be PC." This was the muscular, belligerent-looking girl.

"But his name isn't Typhon!" Bagman said in confusion, just having to open his big damned mouth. "That must be Harry Potter! And he's been named a Champion in the Tri-Wizard Tournament!"

"Tri…Wizard?" Dragon asked, blinking. She looked over at Harry, then back at the others, then back to Harry. "…This explains so much, and yet so little." She returned her gaze to Dumbledore. "In fact, I think we all deserve an explanation."

 _That makes two of us_ , Dumbledore thought in the privacy of his head. After all, even with Harry back, he had not come back unchanged. His eyes were too hard and too old, even for the apparent age he was at. And his motley companions had similar looks in their eyes. What in Merlin's name had happened?

And could he fix it?

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry, along with his motley crew of parahumans, has come back to the Potterverse, with Dragon and the Simurgh along for the ride. Yikes.**

 **Now, I'll be blunt. I only know about the story of** ** _Worm_** **in broad strokes, so any vagueness as to what happened is deliberate. Harry and company will allude to various events that they got involved in, but after this initial chapter, there'll be no other elements of the** ** _Worm_** **-verse coming in, other than the parahumans who came over. Any mistakes I make can be chalked up to it being an AU of Earth Bet, partly due to Harry's influence. However, Harry, Tattletale/Sarah, Skitter/Taylor, and Amy/Panacea are about 18. Harry should be 14, but, well, timey-wimey. We'll get to that later.**

 **They were on the run partly because Harry's connection to the Simurgh got them too much heat, and after refusing to join certain factions (including the Cauldron), they went on the run, aided and abetted by a few other groups, including the now deceased Defiant/Armsmaster and Dragon. And yes, Dragon's AI has been fully downloaded into one of her suits/gynoids. But the process was pretty traumatic, along with losing Defiant and breaking free of Richter's chains.**

 **In case you're wondering about certain other characters…well, Danny Hebert is dead (thanks to the gangs), Brandish disowned Panacea (and Glory Girl blamed Harry), the Slaughterhouse 9 are dead thanks to the Cleaners, as is Coil.**

 **Now, you'll be surely wondering, why would Harry want to stay in Magical Britain? I have to ask a counter-question: is Magical Britain, in all but the worst portrayals, anywhere near as bad as Brockton Bay, let alone the world of** ** _Worm?_** **While Dumbledore's flaws will be noted, he will be a good guy in this story. Of course, he also has to deal with hardened, cynical pseudo-child soldiers with superpowers.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	106. Zen and the Art of (Original) Chapter 1

**Sorry for fans of the prior story I posted here: it may not see the light of day, or at least not for a while. At the least, I'll need to consider where I want to take it first. I do want to do at least one Harry Potter crossover with _Worm,_ though, even if it's a reincarnation fic or something. But hey, you still get this fic.**

 **I've been meaning to do this for some time. I've considered doing a _Street Fighter_ crossover, albeit more of one with the Udon comics than the games, for quite a while yet. While I'm yet to actually read the comics as of writing (though I'm getting the first volume soon), I did watch the first motion comic movie, partly to get a grasp of the characters.**

 **Anyway, I've been considering how to do a Harry/Cammy story. I considered a couple of whitetigerwolf's challenges, but the stories were slow-going, and while I do intend to go back to them, I want to actually read more of the comic first. But then, I hit upon doing a variation of the Blood Brandy Vegas Vacation challenge again, after the success of _One Flew Into the Cuckoos' Nest_. What's more, I had some small justification for bringing Harry and Cammy together in Las Vegas: as Balrog is fought in Vegas (and presumably boxes frequently there), it stands to reason that Cammy, when she was still the Shadaloo assassin Killer Bee, may have been sent there to liaise with Balrog in one manner or another. Incidentally, here, her canon name is going to be a product of the pseudonym she is given while acting as Balrog's minder in Vegas: Camelia.**

 **Also, unlike most Vegas Vacation stories, this is set after Year 4 rather than Year 5, albeit with Harry aged up (so instead of celebrating his 15th birthday in Vegas, he celebrates his 16th). It also means Sirius is still alive. Plus, I have no plans for Dumbledore-bashing in this story. Indeed, he has actually a good role to play.**

 **I also used a concept from my attempt at another Vegas Vacation story, one that would have seen a post-Hogwarts Harry paired with Harley Quinn from _Batman_. In that story, the Potter marriage rings actually clear the mind. In that story, it rendered Harley gradually sane. In this story, it removes Cammy's brainwashing, though unlike the games or the comics, Cammy retains her memories as Killer Bee, though her personality becomes closer to canon Cammy. I like to think that what Rose did in the comics, or Dhalsim in the games, was to bring forth the personality suppressed by the Doll brainwashing program.**

 **Incidentally, I've posted my own _Street Fighter_ crossover challenge in the forums of DZ2 and whitetigerwolf. It's called _Hadou Harry_ , and involves Harry being raised and trained by Gouken alongside Ryu and Ken. Give it a look if you're interested.**

 **EDIT: After trying to do more than one chapter, I decided that doing it during Harry's Hogwarts years was only going to make the story harder to write properly, either having to focus on the Street Fighter world, or the Potterverse, much to the potential detriment of the story. Therefore, I decided to start from the beginning and do a post-Hogwarts variation of this story. It still has a Blood Brandy-esque beginning, but it flows better and meshes better with _Street Fighter_ canon. It will also be published under a slightly different name: _Zen and the Art of Magical Bonding Between Former Child Soldiers_. Keep an eye out for the first chapter of the revised version...**

* * *

 _ **ZEN AND THE ART OF MAGICAL BONDING BETWEEN CHILD SOLDIERS (**_ **ORIGINAL** _ **)  
**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **THE KILLER BEE AND THE BOY WHO LIVED**

 _I'm surrounded by idiots_ , Bison thought to himself, struggling not to succumb to the urge to facepalm or pinch the bridge of his nose. He was the leader of the criminal syndicate known as Shadaloo, and would-be ruler of the world. The world, or at least those parts in the know, feared his name, trembled at it!

 _So why the fuck was this happening?!_

He took a calming breath, and glared at the face on the video screen. Balrog, the boxer commonly nicknamed the Crazy Buffalo. A hulking African-American, one of the most famous boxers on the planet, and not for the right reasons either, not to mention a fool, though Bison didn't know whether that was due to an innate stupidity or just accumulated brain damage from boxing. Bison tolerated Balrog because the man was greedy, he followed orders as long as he was paid, and he was a good enforcer.

But Balrog was also a thug. His ambitions were fairly simple, and as long as they didn't threaten Bison or his leadership of Shadaloo, then they would be tolerated. But the man himself was also an unrepentant hedonist who didn't really care about consequences.

Which was why they were in this situation.

"Balrog," Bison said, his deep, resonant voice echoing around the control room he was taking the call in, "could you please explain to me how you believed giving Killer Bee _alcohol_ was at all a _good idea?_ "

Balrog shrugged, almost entirely unrepentant. " _Girl looked too uptight. Yeah, I know, minimum drinkin' age here is 21, she's 16, so? I wasn't gonna touch her, I ain't into them that young, I just let her have a little fun on her own. Gave her some cash, told her to try out the fruit machines. You know, fun? That thing you seem incapable of? Didn't you use to sneak drinks when you were a kid?_ "

Bison knew, judging by the hastily-stifled chuckles, that that blonde Spanish narcissist Vega was enjoying seeing Balrog getting dressed down. "My childhood is irrelevant, Balrog, though it was certainly not as misspent as yours. That is not the issue. The issue is that somehow, while she was inebriated, Killer Bee has disappeared. She was meant to be your minder. I would expect her to have to find you with a hangover, not the reverse."

" _She'll be fine_ ," Balrog said, waving off the complaint. " _I know people in Vegas, they're looking for her as we speak._ "

"You had better hope they find her, for your own sake, Balrog," Bison said, glaring at the boxer. "I would hate to send any other Dolls to find her…or to punish you for your idiocy. Killer Bee is a valuable asset to Shadaloo, and if your foolishness has lost us that asset, I will ensure that you bitterly regret your indiscretions. Find her at once, and notify me when you do. Bison out." At last, there was some fear and regret on the dark-skinned boxer's face as the screen cut out. Too little, too late.

"Would you wish me to go to Nevada and retrieve our wayward Doll, Bison?" Vega asked. "Admittedly, I find the locale of Las Vegas to be rather gaudy and vulgar, but I feel something of a wanderlust, and the thought of something as beautiful as Killer Bee adrift in such tasteless surrounds is somewhat abhorrent."

"Not yet," Bison said with a wave of a hand. "And if you feel the need to get out of base, I'll find an assignment to occupy yourself with. How is our latest agent?"

"Oh, you mean Shadow? A rather pretentious, gauche name, but I suppose it is somewhat better than Charlie Nash. His martial prowess has not been hindered by the indoctrination, nor the channelling of Psycho Power. He almost makes me sweat. The Dolls have more potential, but they have admittedly been trained and indoctrinated for longer. Do you think that Killer Bee would be in any trouble?"

"Physically? I doubt it. But the Dolls' intake of any psychoactive chemical outside of what we administer may be problematic. Leaving aside the fact that alcohol has many undesirable effects in a soldier normally, it may interfere with the neural pathways related to the indoctrination process and the memory erasure," the would-be dictator of the world mused. "It shouldn't be affected, the risk is minimal, but it is far from non-existent. In any case, I need to know where my most important subordinates are at all times, and Killer Bee going missing is problematic. We need to find her before she gets herself into anything inextricable…"

* * *

Never again. He was never letting his godfather take him on a holiday again. Not when this was what was going to happen. When his mouth felt dryer than the Australian Outback (and he could swear that whatever he was tasting would be worse than kangaroo shit), his bladder felt full, and his head felt like someone had stabbed an icicle through it and left it there. Oh, and there was an unfamiliar weight on his body, and he could hear someone else breathing gently in their sleep, and it was warm in bed thanks to two people being in it.

Wait, what?

He opened his eyes, only to shut them instantly. Merlin, why did the lights hate him enough to stab needles into his eyes? An involuntary groan of pain escaped his lips.

How did he end up in this mess in the first place? Oh, wait. Sirius had persuaded him to come to America for a holiday, with Remus acting as the 'responsible adult', along with some clumsy pink-haired woman called Tonks. After the debacle of the last year, Sirius had apparently put his foot down with Dumbledore, and told him that he was going to give his godson a birthday to remember. Dumbledore reluctantly agreed.

Thankfully, he hadn't had the nightmare about Cedric last night. Or anything seemingly showing Voldemort's viewpoint. So, that was a change, though the hangover reminded him a lot of the pain he often felt in Voldemort's presence. Only worse, because he could taste something foul, his head swam, and he needed to go to the toilet.

And people drink for fun?

Anyway, Sirius had apparently made covert contact with MACUSA, and apparently, they were willing to send someone to judge whether he was telling the truth. They would actually give him a trial, if only to embarrass the British. And apparently Fudge had launched a smear campaign against Dumbledore in _The Daily Prophet_ , not to mention his own, hungover self. Hermione hadn't come, citing wanting to avoid any antics Sirius got up to, and Ron, along with his brothers, had been forbidden from coming by his mother. So, he was pretty much the only kid here, though you wouldn't know it, the way Sirius and, sometimes, Tonks acted.

Last night was something of a blur. He had managed to get drunk, thanks to Sirius and a fake ID, got to gambling, ended up winning a lot, alongside some blonde girl about his age. He had vague memories of her joining him, with some burly-looking black man telling a croupier to let her play, let her enjoy herself. Wait, wasn't that the infamous boxer Balrog?

He vaguely remembered talking to her at a bar afterwards, drinks being on the house…along with what was the room he was in, as he opened his eyes bravely, and peered blearily. He looked down at his companion in bed. Even without his glasses, he could tell that his bed companion was easy on the eyes. Actually, she looked very cute asleep, her face relaxed, though that scar marring her left cheek was a bit worrying, as were the smaller scars dotting other parts of her body. Which was on the muscular side. Not grotesquely so, but clearly the girl used her body. A soldier, then? But she was only about his age.

Her eyes flickered open, revealing blue irises, which focused on him. Warring emotions flickered over her face, before he suddenly felt her forearm being pressed into his throat. "Who are you?!" she demanded, her accent apparently British.

"You're asking me…while trying to _choke_ me?" he gasped out. As she released the pressure on his throat, he noticed something glinting on her hand…on her ring finger. Namely, a ring. _Oh, crap, I slept with a married girl…wait…that looks familiar. That looks VERY familiar_.

And then, another piece of memory swam treacherously into place. Elvis…or rather, an impersonator. _In a chapel_. He looked at his hand, and saw another ring there. A ring that Sirius had given him. The Potter family marriage ring.

Oh, **_fuck_** all kinds of **_duck_**.

She had noticed what had happened at about the same time as he did. She seemed about to choke him again, before she settled for holding up her hand, and indicated the ring. " _Explain._ "

"I'm not sure there's an answer that's not going to get me choked again," he said. "Anyway, you asked me who I was. I'm Harry Potter. You?"

The question seemed to baffle her. Eventually, she said, quietly, "I don't have a name. You may call me Killer Bee."

 _Okay, that's fucking ominous_ , Harry thought. Out loud, he said, "Any other name?"

"…For this mission, I was given the cover name of Camelia."

Cover name? So she is a soldier or a spy? "Nice to meet you, Camelia. Gimme a moment." He got off the bed, rather shakily, and staggered over to a bag, grateful that Sirius had seen fit to leave him some hangover potions (and he noticed some opened condom packets littering the floor, thank Merlin for that!). He popped one open, drank it down (ugh, it tasted like cow shit smelled!), and tossed another vial to Camelia. "It'll taste disgusting, but it'll make the hangover go away."

Camelia glared at him suspiciously, before she downed the vial, and then grimaced. However, her eyes cleared, and she shook her head. "That worked faster than I thought," she said. She pursed her lips in thought as she sat up in bed, giving him an unprecedented view (at least while sober) of her streamlined body. "In fact, I'm not sure I've ever thought so clearly in my life. What did you do to me?"

"Aside from the obvious?" Harry asked, indicating the bed and the used packets of prophylactics. "I think we got married."

"I grasped that. I want to know what you did to my head," she said, glaring at him.

Her head? Harry frowned in thought. Ah. He was beginning to understand. The Potter family rings, while they looked like simple gold wedding bands, were marvels of magical engineering, according to Sirius. They would only bind someone in matrimony if they were compatible, otherwise, it would be merely a form of chattel slavery by marriage(1). What was more, they had passive effects on the wearers, including wards that helped people keep a clear mind (though that only helped mitigate rather than prevent the effects of inebriation or intoxication), especially where things like the Imperius were concerned. Hell, they were even good at helping mitigate mental illness to a degree.

A memory came to him unbidden. While in the bar with him, Camelia…no, she had called herself Cammy then, had broken down, confessing she had killed a man for her employer, and she couldn't disobey, indicating something like the Imperius. Someone called…Tyson(2)? He had let her have a shoulder to lean on, gently comforting her.

"You killed someone, didn't you?" he asked.

She looked up sharply, before her face fell. "I've killed many people," she confessed. "I…why do I feel anything about it now?"

"I dunno. Were you under the Imperius?"

She looked at him sharply. "A wizard…" she murmured.

Oh, good. That meant he didn't need to worry about breaking the Statute of Secrecy. That made things easier. "Okay, well, these are my family rings. The bad news is, the marriage is irrevocable. The good news is, it wouldn't have done this if we weren't compatible. What's more, it clears the wearers' minds, so…maybe that's what cleared your head of the Imperius."

She shook her head. "Not the Imperius, no. Listen to me…Harry, was it? You and I are in the most terrible danger. We need to get dressed, find your associates, and get out of here. And don't make any jokes about an elopement."

"It hasn't crossed my mind," Harry said, swept along with Cammy's urgency. "But why?"

"What do you know of Shadaloo?"

Harry recognised the name as he hurriedly dressed. An international crime syndicate, noted for trafficking of weapons, drugs, and people, along with assassinations all over the world. It was rumoured to be based in Thailand, though it had influence all over the world…especially in South-East Asia.

"Are they after you?" Then, after a moment, he asked, horrified, "Were you part of them?"

" _Were_ being the operative term. I don't want to be part of them any longer," Cammy said. "We'll discuss this…marriage later. Right now, we've got to get out of here."

"Are they going to come after you?" Harry asked as he used spells to pack his bag.

"Almost certainly. I was assigned to liaise with Balrog while he was here in Vegas, but he decided I needed…loosening up." She was dressing in a severe suit.

Harry nodded, and reached for the communications mirror. "Sirius Black." Sirius' face soon appeared, looking the worse for wear. "Padfoot, no time to explain. Where are you?"

" _Room 414. Why?_ "

"We've got to get out of here ASAP. Something as bad as Death Eaters has turned up. You know Shadaloo?"

This seemed to get Sirius alert. " _Shit. Okay, I'll come to you once I tell Moony and Tonks. Did you have a good night at least?_ "

"Yeah, but the morning's got consequences. I think I'm now married to one of Shadaloo's assassins."

"… _Wow. The Potter Luck strikes again. Okay, I'll be there ASAP._ "

There was a massive thump on the door, and Harry muttered, "I don't think I have a few minutes, Padfoot…"

"Oi! Cammy! You in there? Open up!" roared a voice. "It's me, Balrog! The clerk at this hotel told me you were here with some Limey brat!"

Cammy sighed, before schooling her features, setting them into a blank expression. "I'll try to bluff him," she said quietly, before she walked to the door, setting the chain up, and opening it, revealing the boxer. "I'm busy, Balrog."

"What? Oh, okay. That's cool. Did you have a good night, at least?" he asked, grinning lecherously.

"It was…novel."

"Cool. Might do you good to unwind a little every now and then. Anyway, the boss wants you to contact him ASAP. He got pissy about me trying to get you to have fun for some reason. When you're done, head over to my pad. He'll be waiting on the phone. Don't keep him waitin', okay? You know what he's like when he's left hanging. See you later." And with that, he left, with Cammy closing the door after him, and sighing.

"That was close," Harry said.

"You're telling me," Cammy said. "We'd better leave. Eventually, Bison will send someone after me. He will retrieve me alive…but you and your associates are another matter."

"So…we skedaddle?"

She nodded. "As you put it, we skedaddle…"

* * *

Unseen by either of them, an elegant woman with purple hair and a crystal ball watched on from afar, and smiled gently. _So, it seems that Killer Bee has awoken to her true nature, long-suppressed by Bison_ , she thought. _Instead of a ruthless killer, she may yet become a protector of people, even in full command of her abilities. Darkness may taint her soul, but it has not yet corrupted it fully. You have lost one of your pawns, Bison. Soon, you will lose your little game_ …

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So…another Vegas Vacation ends with Harry hitched to a someone who can soundly kick his arse and has certainly complicated his life. Only, it seems that his dalliance has had more unforeseen consequences than merely getting irrevocably hitched.**

 **I very nearly had Balrog get into a fight with Harry, only for Cammy to fight him off, but decided having her trick Balrog was better. We'll have more opportunity for Cammy to kick arse later. Plus, we'll also have other elements of the** ** _Street Fighter_** **story later, based on the Udon comics. While it's not clear how old Cammy actually is in the comics, she's 16 during the events of the Alpha games, so that's how old she is here.**

 **Semi-random musing: You know, it's ironic that, in the episodes of** ** _Death Battle_** **they had, Cammy and Harry came off second best. A shame, that.**

 **1\. One of the complaints about the whole irrevocable marriage trope that these Vegas Vacation stories have was this very thing, pointed out in a review for my first Vegas Vacation story,** ** _One Flew Into the Cuckoos' Nest_** **. I hastily wrote this stuff in, and have made it my personal fanon for anything involving magically-binding marriage. Not that the latter came up in canon anyway.**

 **2\. This is actually a bit of a cheeky nod to the name changes in** ** _Street Fighter II_** **. Long story short, in Japan, Balrog's name is Mike Bison or 'M Bison', as a reference to Mike Tyson. In order to avoid a possible lawsuit from Tyson, as well as** ** _Street Fighter II_** **being localised at around the same time as a rape trial around the boxer, three of the last bosses had their names switched around for the English version. The boxer M Bison became Balrog, the Spanish claw-wielding assassin Balrog became Vega, and the dictator head of Shadaloo Vega became M Bison.**


	107. Zen and the Art of (Revised) Chapter 1

**Okay, so the first version of this story didn't quite work out. This was, frankly, because I realised the story was split too much between the _Street Fighter_ world and the Potterverse, and I'd have to sacrifice one to bolster the other. And that didn't seem right. So, instead, I decided, although I would keep the Blood Brandy beginning, it would have a post-Hogwarts Harry, and thus he and Cammy would be 18. Therefore, the only baggage he has from Hogwarts is psychological.  
**

 **Thankfully, this version actually looks like it has legs, so we'll have Harry and Cammy venturing forth into the world of _Street Fighter_ together. Keep an eye out for the next chapter tomorrow.**

* * *

 _ **ZEN AND THE ART OF MAGICAL BONDING BETWEEN FORMER CHILD SOLDIERS (**_ **REVISED** _ **)  
**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **THE KILLER BEE AND THE BOY WHO LIVED**

 _I'm surrounded by idiots_ , Bison thought to himself, struggling not to succumb to the urge to facepalm or pinch the bridge of his nose. He was the leader of the criminal syndicate known as Shadaloo, and would-be ruler of the world. The world, or at least those parts in the know, feared his name, trembled at it!

 _So why the fuck was this happening?!_

He took a calming breath, and glared at the face on the video screen. Balrog, the boxer commonly nicknamed the Crazy Buffalo. A hulking African-American, one of the most famous boxers on the planet, and not for the right reasons either, not to mention a fool, though Bison didn't know whether that was due to an innate stupidity or just accumulated brain damage from boxing. Bison tolerated Balrog because the man was greedy, he followed orders as long as he was paid, and he was a good enforcer.

But Balrog was also a thug. His ambitions were fairly simple, and as long as they didn't threaten Bison or his leadership of Shadaloo, then they would be tolerated. But the man himself was also an unrepentant hedonist who didn't really care about consequences.

Which was why they were in this situation.

"Balrog," Bison said, his deep, resonant voice echoing around the control room he was taking the call in, "could you please explain to me how you believed giving Killer Bee _alcohol_ was at all a _good idea?_ "

Balrog shrugged, almost entirely unrepentant. " _Girl looked too uptight. Yeah, I know, minimum drinkin' age here is 21, she's 18, so? I wasn't gonna touch her, I just let her have a little fun on her own. Gave her some cash, told her to try out the fruit machines. You know, fun? That thing you seem incapable of? Didn't you use to sneak drinks when you were a kid?_ "

Bison knew, judging by the hastily-stifled chuckles, that that blonde Spanish narcissist Vega was enjoying seeing Balrog getting dressed down. "My childhood is irrelevant, Balrog, though it was certainly not as misspent as yours. That is not the issue. The issue is that somehow, while she was inebriated, Killer Bee has disappeared. She was meant to be your minder. I would expect her to have to find you with a hangover, not the reverse."

" _She'll be fine_ ," Balrog said, waving off the complaint. " _I know people in Vegas, they're looking for her as we speak._ "

"You had better hope they find her, for your own sake, Balrog," Bison said, glaring at the boxer. "I would hate to send any other Dolls to find her…or to punish you for your idiocy. Killer Bee is a valuable asset to Shadaloo, and if your foolishness has lost us that asset, I will ensure that you bitterly regret your indiscretions. Find her at once, and notify me when you do. Bison out." At last, there was some fear and regret on the dark-skinned boxer's face as the screen cut out. Too little, too late.

"Would you wish me to go to Nevada and retrieve our wayward Doll, Bison?" Vega asked. "Admittedly, I find the locale of Las Vegas to be rather gaudy and vulgar, but I feel something of a wanderlust, and the thought of something as beautiful as Killer Bee adrift in such tasteless surrounds is somewhat abhorrent."

"Not yet," Bison said with a wave of a hand. "And if you feel the need to get out of base, I'll find an assignment to occupy yourself with. How is our latest agent?"

"Oh, you mean Shadow? A rather pretentious, gauche name, but I suppose it is somewhat better than Charlie Nash. His martial prowess has not been hindered by the indoctrination, nor the channelling of Psycho Power. He almost makes me sweat. The Dolls have more potential, but they have admittedly been trained and indoctrinated for longer. Do you think that Killer Bee would be in any trouble?"

"Physically? I doubt it. But the Dolls' intake of any psychoactive chemical outside of what we administer may be problematic. Leaving aside the fact that alcohol has many undesirable effects in a soldier normally, it may interfere with the neural pathways related to the indoctrination process and the memory erasure," the would-be dictator of the world mused. "It shouldn't be affected, the risk is minimal, but it is far from non-existent. In any case, I need to know where my most important subordinates are at all times, and Killer Bee going missing is problematic. We need to find her before she gets herself into anything inextricable…"

* * *

Never again. He was never going on a bender ever again. Not when this was what was going to happen. When his mouth felt dryer than the Australian Outback (and he could swear that whatever he was tasting would be worse than kangaroo shit), his bladder felt full, and his head felt like someone had stabbed an icicle through it and left it there. Oh, and there was an unfamiliar weight on his body, and he could hear someone else breathing gently in their sleep, and it was warm in bed thanks to two people being in it.

Wait, what?

He opened his eyes, only to shut them instantly. Merlin, why did the lights hate him enough to stab needles into his eyes? An involuntary groan of pain escaped his lips.

How did he end up in this mess in the first place? Oh, wait. Because he wanted to get away from Britain for a while. Because after everything was settled with Voldemort, well, he wanted to get away from it all. All the fame, the praise, the adulations from a public that had, at times, been all too-willing to condemn him.

Having inherited the Black fortune and the Potter fortune, he had money to burn. And he felt like going to Las Vegas. Hermione didn't want to come: besides disapproving of gambling, she also needed to track down her parents in Australia. Ron and Ginny had been forbidden from going by Molly, who had also told Harry he needed to finish his schooling.

But Harry wasn't sure he cared any more. Even with Voldemort dead, many of his supporters like the Malfoys were still going to get positions back in society. The old prejudices remained. He had let Ginny down gently after the final battle, and she understood. They all did. They hoped he would come back to them, true, but for now, Harry wanted to find himself. The real self, the one Dumbledore had screwed over in favour of creating his little weapon against Voldemort. With the best of intentions, but those were what the road to hell were paved with.

Of course, he was sure that hangovers also paved the road to hell. It reminded him a lot of the pain he often felt in Voldemort's presence. Only worse, because he could taste something foul, his head swam, and he needed to go to the toilet.

And people drink for fun?

Last night was something of a blur. He had managed to get drunk, thanks to a magical fake ID (drinking age being 21 here) Sirius had left in his vault for Harry ('Have some fun, Prongslet!', he had left in his will), got to gambling, ended up winning a lot, alongside some blonde girl about his age. He had vague memories of her joining him, with some burly-looking black man telling a croupier to let her play, let her enjoy herself. Wait, wasn't that the infamous boxer Balrog?

He vaguely remembered talking to her at a bar afterwards, drinks being on the house…along with what was the room he was in, as he opened his eyes bravely, and peered blearily. He looked down at his companion in bed. Even without his glasses, he could tell that his bed companion was easy on the eyes. Actually, she looked very cute asleep, her face relaxed, though that scar marring her left cheek was a bit worrying, as were the smaller scars dotting other parts of her body. Which was on the muscular side. Not grotesquely so, but clearly the girl used her body. A soldier, then? But she was only about his age.

Her eyes flickered open, revealing blue irises, which focused on him. Warring emotions flickered over her face, before he suddenly felt her forearm being pressed into his throat. "Who are you?!" she demanded, her accent apparently British.

"You're asking me…while trying to _choke_ me?" he gasped out. As she released the pressure on his throat, he noticed something glinting on her hand…on her ring finger. Namely, a ring. _Oh, crap, I slept with a married girl…wait…that looks familiar. That looks VERY familiar_.

And then, another piece of memory swam treacherously into place. Elvis…or rather, an impersonator. _In a chapel_. He looked at his hand, and saw another ring there. A ring he had gotten from his family vault. The Potter family marriage ring.

Oh, **_fuck_** all kinds of **_duck_**.

She had noticed what had happened at about the same time as he did. She seemed about to choke him again, before she settled for holding up her hand, and indicated the ring. " _Explain._ "

"I'm not sure there's an answer that's not going to get me choked again," he said. "Anyway, you asked me who I was. I'm Harry Potter. You?"

The question seemed to baffle her. Eventually, she said, quietly, "I don't have a name. You may call me Killer Bee."

 _Okay, that's fucking ominous_ , Harry thought. Out loud, he said, "Any other name?"

"…For this mission, I was given the cover name of Camelia."

Cover name? So she is a soldier or a spy? "Nice to meet you, Camelia. Gimme a moment." He got off the bed, rather shakily, and staggered over to a bag, grateful that he had bought some hangover potions in advance. He also noted some opened condom packets, and found himself grateful for that, even while drunk, he hadn't forgotten protection. He popped one open, drank it down (ugh, it tasted like cow shit smelled!), and tossed another vial to Camelia. "It'll taste disgusting, but it'll make the hangover go away."

Camelia glared at him suspiciously, before she downed the vial, and then grimaced. However, her eyes cleared, and she shook her head. "That worked faster than I thought," she said. She pursed her lips in thought as she sat up in bed, giving him an unprecedented view (at least while sober) of her streamlined body. "In fact, I'm not sure I've ever thought so clearly in my life. What did you do to me?"

"Aside from the obvious?" Harry asked, indicating the bed and the used packets of prophylactics. "I think we got married."

"I grasped that. I want to know what you did to my head," she said, glaring at him.

Her head? Harry frowned in thought. Ah. He was beginning to understand. The Potter family rings, while they looked like simple gold wedding bands, were marvels of magical engineering, according to the Goblins (who had managed to forgive him for that incident where he stole that Horcrux…in exchange for a good chunk of his vaults). They would only bind someone in matrimony if they were compatible, otherwise, it would be merely a form of chattel slavery by marriage(1). What was more, they had passive effects on the wearers, including wards that helped people keep a clear mind (though that only helped mitigate rather than prevent the effects of inebriation or intoxication), especially where things like the Imperius were concerned. Hell, they were even good at helping mitigate mental illness to a degree.

A memory came to him unbidden. While in the bar with him, Camelia…no, she had called herself Cammy then, had broken down, confessing she had killed a man for her employer, and she couldn't disobey, indicating something like the Imperius. Someone called…Tyson(2)? He had let her have a shoulder to lean on, gently comforting her.

"You killed someone, didn't you?" he asked.

She looked up sharply, before her face fell. "I've killed many people," she confessed. "I…why do I feel anything about it now?"

"I dunno. Were you under the Imperius?"

She looked at him sharply. "A wizard…" she murmured.

Oh, good. That meant he didn't need to worry about breaking the Statute of Secrecy. That made things easier. "Okay, well, these are my family rings. The bad news is, the marriage is irrevocable. The good news is, it wouldn't have done this if we weren't compatible. What's more, it clears the wearers' minds, so…maybe that's what cleared your head of the Imperius."

She shook her head. "Not the Imperius, no. Listen to me…Harry, was it? You and I are in the most terrible danger. We need to get dressed, find your associates, and get out of here. And don't make any jokes about an elopement."

"It hasn't crossed my mind," Harry said, swept along with Cammy's urgency. "But why?"

"What do you know of Shadaloo?"

Harry recognised the name as he hurriedly dressed. An international crime syndicate, noted for trafficking of weapons, drugs, and people, along with assassinations all over the world. It was rumoured to be based in Thailand, though it had influence all over the world…especially in South-East Asia.

"Are they after you?" Then, after a moment, he asked, horrified, "Were you part of them?"

" _Were_ being the operative term. I don't want to be part of them any longer," Cammy said. "We'll discuss this…marriage later. Right now, we've got to get out of here."

"Are they going to come after you?" Harry asked as he used spells to pack his bag.

"Almost certainly. I was assigned to liaise with Balrog while he was here in Vegas, but he decided I needed…loosening up." She was dressing in a severe suit.

There was a massive thump on the door. "Oi! Cammy! You in there? Open up!" roared a voice. "It's me, Balrog! The clerk at this hotel told me you were here with some Limey brat!"

Cammy sighed, before schooling her features, setting them into a blank expression. "I'll try to bluff him," she said quietly, before she walked to the door, setting the chain up, and opening it, revealing the boxer. "I'm busy, Balrog."

"What? Oh, okay. That's cool. Did you have a good night, at least?" he asked, grinning lecherously.

"It was…novel."

"Cool. Might do you good to unwind a little every now and then. Anyway, the boss wants you to contact him ASAP. He got pissy about me trying to get you to have fun for some reason. When you're done, call him. He'll be waiting on the phone. Don't keep him waitin', okay? You know what he's like when he's left hanging. See you later." And with that, he left, with Cammy closing the door after him, and sighing.

"That was close," Harry said.

"You're telling me," Cammy said. "Before I leave with you, I had best contact Bison. At least then, I can reassure him. I'll need you to be out of sight, though. It is a video phone system."

"Gimme a moment," Harry said, before taking out the Invisibility Cloak and draping it over himself.

Cammy then plucked put a laptop, opening it, concealing her hand (the one with the ring on it) from the laptop's camera. "Agent Killer Bee reporting, sir."

" _Hmm. Better late than never. Status?_ " The voice from the laptop's speakers was a low growl.

"Ready for duty, sir."

After a moment, Harry heard the voice say, " _Are you with anyone?_ "

"They're out of the room at the moment, sir. My cover is not compromised."

There was another pause. Eventually, the man said, " _Then it is time you left. I am reassigning you. Agent Juli has reported that one of our targets, the_ Ansatsuken _user Ryu, is heading to the United States. In all likelihood, he will be rendezvousing with Ken Masters in San Francisco. I want you to take over surveillance on Ryu and his associates._ "

"Understood."

" _Good. Report to me once you reach San Francisco. And Killer Bee? In future, if Balrog wishes for you to do something outside of your orders, refuse. I am your commanding officer, not Balrog. If he presses the issue in future occurrences, feel free to show him the error of his ways. Bison out._ "

The call finished, and Cammy closed the laptop with a sigh. Harry took the Cloak off. "That was your boss? Sounds like a real charmer."

"Yes. I'll go along with this for now. Maybe I may be able to warn them about Bison," Cammy said.

"Then I'm coming with you. I know you could probably handle yourself, but…"

After a moment, Cammy nodded. "I appreciate it. And maybe you could help me with something else. Freeing my sisters from bondage…"

* * *

Unseen by either of them, an elegant woman with purple hair and a crystal ball watched on from afar, and smiled gently. _So, it seems that Killer Bee has awoken to her true nature, long-suppressed by Bison_ , she thought. _Instead of a ruthless killer, she may yet become a protector of people, even in full command of her abilities, and joined with yet another protector of people. Darkness may taint her soul, but it has not yet corrupted it fully. You have lost one of your pawns, Bison. And soon, you will lose your little game_ …

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So…another Vegas Vacation ends with Harry hitched to a someone who can soundly kick his arse and has certainly complicated his life. Only, it seems that his dalliance has had more unforeseen consequences than merely getting irrevocably hitched.**

 **I very nearly had Balrog get into a fight with Harry, only for Cammy to fight him off, but decided having her trick Balrog was better. We'll have more opportunity for Cammy to kick arse later. Plus, we'll also have other elements of the _Street Fighter_ story later, based on the Udon comics.**

 **In the original version of this story, Harry and Cammy were 16. Here, they (and the Dolls) are 18.**

 **Semi-random musing: You know, it's ironic that, in the episodes of _Death Battle_ they had, Cammy and Harry came off second best. A shame, that.**

 **1\. One of the complaints about the whole irrevocable marriage trope that these Vegas Vacation stories have was this very thing, pointed out in a review for my first Vegas Vacation story, _One Flew Into the Cuckoos' Nest_. I hastily wrote this stuff in, and have made it my personal fanon for anything involving magically-binding marriage. Not that the latter came up in canon anyway.**

 **2\. This is actually a bit of a cheeky nod to the name changes in _Street Fighter II_. Long story short, in Japan, Balrog's name is Mike Bison or 'M Bison', as a reference to Mike Tyson. In order to avoid a possible lawsuit from Tyson, as well as _Street Fighter II_ being localised at around the same time as a rape trial around the boxer, three of the last bosses had their names switched around for the English version. The boxer M Bison became Balrog, the Spanish claw-wielding assassin Balrog became Vega, and the dictator head of Shadaloo Vega became M Bison.**


	108. Zen and the Art of (Revised) Chapter 2

**A lot of people like this story, so I'd like to give you guys some good news. I intend to post this story as a full one later today or tomorrow, with at least the first three chapters, alongside my _Fairy Tail_ and _Final Fantasy VI_ crossover _Esper Reborn_. This is just a taster of what is to come. Also, I just got the _Street Fighter_ comic, the Udon version, which means you guys can expect more _Street Fighter_ stories (Potterverse or not), albeit based on the Udon comics continuity.  
**

* * *

 _ **ZEN AND THE ART OF MAGICAL BONDING BETWEEN FORMER CHILD SOLDIERS**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **CONVERGENCE**

If there was one small piece of amusement to get out of that little hurried departure from Vegas, it was that it was far from the only time that such a quick vanishing act was needed from Sin City after a hasty marriage. Cammy had to get some small amusement from that, if nothing else. After all, there was precious little in this incident to be amused about.

So, to summarise, after Balrog got her plastered, she had ended up falling in with a British wizard called Harry Potter, who, apparently, was famous in Britain. She was only somewhat aware of wizards due to Bison's briefings on the matter. Anyway, she got married to Harry, and the brainwashing Bison had put onto her that had suppressed her personality had gone away, though unfortunately, the memories hadn't. She was so surprised at how different she felt. It was like the clichés of being blind and then suddenly being able to see, or deaf and suddenly able to hear. She was truly aware of herself.

And with that, came the guilt.

True, she had been raised with the goal of being a soldier all of her life, but she knew that Bison had ordered her memories wiped and her personality suppressed for that purpose too. She had vague memories of incidents that showed her to be something other than a soulless automaton breaking through, like the day she adopted a cat, only for Bison to crush it in his hand right in front of her, a vicious grin on his face.

She should have been angry with Harry, but after the initial shock and some thought, her anger died down somewhat. The first reason was that they were both drunk. The second was that he had at least used protection, despite his inebriation. The third was that the impromptu marriage had suppressed Bison's brainwashing. She could think for herself again, and while she wasn't exactly happy about this, it meant an escape from Bison. Theoretically, anyway.

They were sitting in a hotel in San Francisco, having used charms Harry knew to change their appearance. Cammy had changed into her Killer Bee outfit, which Harry was gawping at a little. Well, in retrospect, she couldn't blame him. It was little more than a light blue thong leotard. The Dolls' outfits weren't much better, especially as they had worn said outfits since their teens: figure-hugging skintight bodysuits, all dark blue.

As they waited for the right time to contact Bison (he might get suspicious if she contacted him too soon after leaving Vegas, as Harry had used a Portkey), they exchanged stories. Cammy had to admit, she wasn't expecting Harry's story. Of how he was raised ignorant of an admittedly ill-deserved fame. Of how he had to cope with said fame, as well as an immortal nemesis gunning for him. He had only just come out of one war, and was in Vegas to have a catharsis.

As she finished her own story, what she remembered of her life, Harry looked thoughtful. "So, let me get this straight. Bison kidnapped you and a bunch of teenaged girls, and basically shaped them into his elite bodyguards and assassins."

"Yes."

"Okay, that's fucked up, Cammy."

"Indeed." He had taken to calling her Cammy, short from Camelia, like Balrog did. Only, from Harry, it sounded…nice. Affectionate. Better than Killer Bee. That was a designation, a title, not a name. Cammy looked at her hands. "I've killed many of people. Many of them were, admittedly, criminals, but Bison also used us against his enemies in law enforcement. I remember killing an Interpol agent from Hong Kong, Dorai." She closed her eyes at the memory. "He fought well, but I was the one who delivered the killing blow."

"But…you regret that, don't you? I see it in your face."

"Yes. I feel…guilt. For the first time," she admitted. "Distant, but there. I think my mind is keeping it at one remove. Otherwise, I might not be able to cope."

Harry seemed to decide that changing the subject was a good idea. "Anyway, what does Bison want with a couple of martial artists?"

"They're practitioners of the _Ansatsuken_ , the Assassin's Fist. Bison witnessed Ryu using it on Sagat, the King of Muay Thai and one of Bison's enforcers. Specifically something called the _Satsui no Hadou_."

"The what?"

"The Surge of Murderous Intent. Bison thinks that it can boost his own powers. He harnesses something known as Psycho Power. It's hard to describe what it is, other than a power harnessed from within the soul. It's fuelled by negative emotions."

"So, like the Dark Arts."

Cammy, after a moment, nodded. "That being said, I don't think it's magic. From what I understand, it's capable of being used by anyone with training, rather like ki."

"Ki? As in lifeforce?"

"Yes. I mentioned Ryu and Ken. They can use ki, weaponise it. They can even project energy spheres at enemies with a technique known as the _Hadouken_ , or Surge Fist. As you know, Bison has brainwashing technology. He intends to use it on those he considers useful, and Ryu, and with him, Ken, were brought to his attention when Ryu defeated Sagat in the Street Fighter tournament." She looked away, gathering herself to ask something. "Harry…if I can, I would ask your help in freeing my sisters, along with everyone else who work unwillingly for Bison. Obviously, I can't ask you to do the same thing as you did for me, but…Bison ruined my life, as well as that of so many others."

Harry, after a moment, shook his head. "Dammit, Hermione, you're right, as you almost always are."

"Pardon?"

"One of my friends, one of my oldest, once told me, rather exasperatedly, that I have a 'saving people thing'. So, we're going up against a megalomaniacal terrorist with aspirations to brainwashing, murder and world domination? All we have to do is throw in ambitions for immortality, and…why are you looking at me like that?"

"…Bison has once boasted that he is immortal, that he can swap bodies when his current one wears out."

Cammy very nearly chuckled, despite the gravity of the situation, when Harry facepalmed. "…Okay, that's it. I'm going fucking teetotaller from now on."

"I wholeheartedly agree. Ours will be a sober marriage," Cammy said.

* * *

Cammy went up to the roof of the hotel to contact Bison, with it being evening. Harry followed her, Cloak of Invisibility over him, along with a broomstick, as she had warned him she was good at roof-hopping. And it was while he had the cloak on him that Harry finally got a good look at his brand new nemesis, Master Bison of Shadaloo.

He had to admit, the man looked fucking intimidating, just like his voice. A hulking brute of a man dressed in a crimson military uniform, an intimidating face glaring out from beneath an officer's cap. The two conversed, and Bison mentioned that Ryu had arrived in San Francisco earlier that afternoon, and in all likelihood had headed to the Masters' mansion far out in the suburbs. One of their informants had stated that the Masters and Ryu were headed for Chinatown, and to a restaurant the Masters frequented, so Cammy was to pick up the surveillance from there.

As Cammy packed away the laptop, Harry muttered, trying not to stare at her callipygian rear (that blue leotard made that difficult, though), "That was your former boss? Yeah, he's pretty scary."

"Yes. Follow me."

And so he did, amazed that she was able to hop between rooftops, even when there were appreciable distances in height. He followed easily on his broom, though he knew that he'd have to start training to catch up physically. Then again, if what she said was any indication, she had been training her whole life, as well as having her body enhanced by scientists on Bison's payroll.

Once she stopped, and set up surveillance equipment, he cast a Notice Me Not on her, and on him, and removed the Cloak. He explained what he did to Cammy, who nodded, smiling. It was one of the few smiles he had given him since this debacle began. "That's good. We need to plan this out. I think you and I need to stage my being captured, so that Bison thinks that I'm dead, or otherwise out of his grasp."

"What then?" Harry asked.

"Bison has influence over many law-enforcement organisations, including Interpol and the police forces under it. That being said, I know of at least one agent working with Interpol who might hear us out. Commander Guile, formerly of the United States Air Force. He's now one of the senior members of the Shadaloo taskforce. His mentor, Charlie Nash, was captured and brainwashed by Shadaloo. I'm willing to give him intelligence, and work alongside him, but I ultimately want to stop Bison outside of the ICPO, or any other agency."

Harry nodded, before he looked down at the restaurant. He frowned when he noticed a trio of people pull up. Two were obviously American, blonde, one a handsome, muscled man with a cocky grin, the other a pretty young woman with the same hair colour, but the other, an Asian, stood out, even in Chinatown. He was wearing a tattered, well-worn gi or martial arts training uniform, white, with a headband. Like the blonde man, he was fairly muscled, his face stoic, though Harry glimpsed some inner turmoil. "There they are," Cammy said quietly.

"Ryu, Ken, and…what was her name?"

"Eliza," Cammy said, setting up an earpiece for herself, and then for Harry. It was linked to a special surveillance device that allowed them to eavesdrop on them.

For quite a while, there was only small talk, and then silence as the Masters ate their meal. Then, eventually, one man said, in an American drawl, " _C'mon, Ryu, eat up. I know, it's hard. I'm shocked about Gouken's murder too. But you've gotta eat something._ " After a pause, the man, presumably Ken, sighed, and asked, quietly, " _So tell me, what happened to our master?_ "

The other man, presumably Ryu, sighed, before saying, in a calm, deep, eloquent tone, his English accented but excellent, " _I was training outside the dojo, when I heard a cry from within. I hurried back, but I was too late. Master Gouken was dead, and the killer was nowhere to be found. There were signs of a truly great battle that had taken place, but I don't know of any fighter who could have killed our master, and in so brutal a fashion. Smeared in blood on the wall behind him was the symbol 'Ten'._ "

" _Ten?_ " Eliza asked.

" _Sorry, I mean the kanji. In Japanese, it's pronounced ten, but it's not a number. It is the kanji for 'heaven' or 'sky'. It's some sort of message or calling card, but I don't know what it could mean._ " He gathered himself, before his voice gained an edge. " _But what I do know is that the man I considered my father, the man who raised me and trained me, is now dead, murdered by an unknown foe. I need your help to avenge him, Ken._ "

Harry looked down as a group of thugs, led by an obese man with what looked like a metal Mohawk in his head, entered the restaurant. "Cammy?" he asked.

"I recognise him," she said. "Birdie, a thug Bison uses for his dirty work. He's been sent here to control one of the local gangs."

" _Would you smell the MSG around here?_ " Birdie rasped with a thick Cockney accent. After a pause, he said, " _Now, listen up, pops. Me and me mates were in the neighbourhood, and thought that we'd collect some overdue protection money._ "

"Shit, I'm heading down," Harry said. "I don't want anyone getting hurt."

Cammy nodded. As he used his broomstick, along with the Cloak, to get down without being seen, he heard the owner of the shop snarl angrily, " _Don't you give me any of that shit. You ain't with the Raging Storms, and I'm already paid up with them. So get lost._ "

As Harry approached the restaurant, he saw Ryu get up, while he heard Birdie sneer, loud enough to hear from outside the restaurant, "You're four days out of date, pops. We stomped all over their arses, and we'll do the same to you. You see, I'm Birdie, a new player in town, and I run with Shadaloo. You don't want to get on their bad side, or mine, so gimme the cash, and two orders of spring rolls, and maybe I won't give you a Chelsea smile(1)."

The owner, even as he was hauled by his shirt into the air by Birdie, snarled, "You're bluffing."

Birdie smashed the man in the face as Harry got into the restaurant. "Try me, you stupid Chink."

"I ain't paying you idiots a dime! Now, piss off!"

"Fine. You wanna play hardarse? Your funeral, me old China," Birdie grumbled, but as Ryu made to stop Birdie, Harry fired off a Stunner at Birdie, who slumped, falling unconscious.

"FREEZE!" roared a voice, and from the back of the restaurant came a bunch of police officers, accompanied by a muscled blonde man in a military singlet and camo trousers. His hairstyle was one of the more ridiculous Harry had ever seen, a flattop that made his head look like a storm cloud, framing stern features.

The man said, "Stay calm, we have everything under control. And whoever fired that Stunner, show yourself."

 _Shit, he knows about magic?_ Harry thought.

" _Harry, that's Guile, the one I was talking about_ ," Cammy said. " _Reveal yourself, I'll find you later._ "

Harry, reluctantly, took off the Invisibility Cloak. "I'm here."

Guile looked over at him, and looked him up and down. "Huh. Nice going, kid." He looked at the thugs. "Shadaloo must be scraping the bottom of the barrel if they're hiring the likes of you. You're just a bunch of wannabes." He noticed Ryu and Ken, looking as if they were going to leave, before he returned his attention to the thugs. "I'd be surprised if Bison even knew you guys existed at all. Cuff them and get them outta here. Code Hecate, too."

"Code Hecate?" Harry asked as Guile approached him, the SFPD officers taking Birdie's subordinates away.

"Standard law enforcement code for those in the know about people like you," Guile said(2). "Don't worry, the Statute's pretty lax around San Francisco and LA. They can cover things up more easily than back home in Britain. Commander Guile, ICPO."

"Harry Potter," Harry said, shaking the man's proffered hand.

Guile's eyebrow rose, but before he could comment, one of the thugs hit one of the coppers away from him, and fled through the kitchen of the restaurant. Without a word, Harry and Guile pursued him, only to find him sprawled on the ground, a Chinese woman standing over him, her brown hair done up in twin buns, wearing a jacket over a blue tracksuit. "So, you work for Shadaloo?" she asked.

" _Harry, Bison's contacting me. I need to go offline for a moment_ ," Cammy said.

As the connection clicked off, Guile said, "Nice work, lady. Who're you?"

"Chun-Li. I'm an agent from Hong Kong's branch of the ICPO," the woman said, bringing out an identity card, which Guile perused. "I've been pursuing some leads concerning Shadaloo operations back home, and they led here. I wanted to ask this guy some questions. What about you two?"

"I'm Commander Guile, formerly of USAF Special Ops, currently on attachment to Interpol. This is Harry Potter, a civilian. Are you cleared for Code Hecate?"

Chun-Li nodded. "A mage…yes, I've heard of Mr Potter. The British were celebrating his victory over the terrorist Voldemort. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Potter."

"Call me Harry, Miss…?" Harry began as she shook his hand, only for the Chinese woman to shake her head.

"Just Chun-Li."

Guile crossed his arms. "So, you're known in Britain?"

"I wish I wasn't," Harry said. "Long story short, a magical terrorist wanted me dead. He's dead now. I came here to forget about it, but got dragged into this. As it happens, I've made the acquaintance of someone who wants to defect from Shadaloo."

Guile looked at him sharply, before he looked over at Chun-Li. "Looks like we're on the same side. I'm with the American investigation into Shadaloo. I'm surprised you're here, Chun-Li. I would have thought you would have had your hands full with the investigation into their operations in Hong Kong."

"I'm supposed to meet a contact at Interpol in a few days. His name is Charlie Nash. Do you know him?"

Guile looked over at Chun-Li in shock. "Know him?!"

"I'm taking that as a yes," Chun-Li said. "We were to coordinate the investigation more efficiently. Is there something wrong?"

"You could say that," Guile said bitterly. "Charlie was a good friend of mine…and disappeared two months ago while on a mission. All I know is that Bison is responsible, that's why I'm doing this."

"Bison?!" Chun-Li yelped. "You have to tell me what you know!"

"I guess he did something to you?" Guile asked.

"Like you, I've lost someone to him," Chun-Li said with solemn anger.

"And you?" Guile asked, looking at Harry.

"Like I said, I've made the acquaintance of a defector from Shadaloo, someone who has every reason to hate Bison."

Just then, Cammy said, " _Harry, I'm back. Are you still with Guile?_ "

"Yeah, and he's not alone," Harry said quietly, placing a hand to his earpiece. "There's another Interpol officer, one from Hong Kong, with a thing against Shadaloo. Her name is Chun-Li. I've been telling them about your desire to defect. Is that fine?"

"… _Yes. I will work with them. But I'll have to be out on surveillance of Ryu and Ken for the time being._ "

"Got it. I'll see you later, then. Stay out of trouble, okay?"

" _Given what you said your track record is like, I should say the same to you._ " He could hear an affectionate smile in her voice, and so soon after they met. But she had a point, he knew. He just hoped that whatever trouble he got into, he could deal with it…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Oh, my dear Harry, you are so naïve. After all, how is Chun-Li going to cope with working with the girl who killed her father? And how is Cammy going to break ties with Bison?**

 **1\. Basically a Glasgow Smile, aka a scar carved into the cheeks to simulate a smile, and possibly lethal to inflict.**

 **2\. I used 'Code Hecate' as a shorthand for law enforcement who know about magic that an incident has taken place in my** ** _Fate/Zero_** **crossover** ** _Gorgon and Thanatos_** **. We'll explain why Guile and Chun-Li know later…**


	109. Gambler of Magical Britain Chapter 1

**Before I go on to this next sample chapter, I'd like to announce a poll I did on my profile. Some of you may already know of it, but I thought I'd let you know anyway. It's basically which franchise I should attempt doing a fanfic or crossover on next. Also, soon, there will be a new big update to at least a dozen of my stories...as well as a new sample chapter from a new story for _The Cauldron_. The crossover is a surprise...but it's one of the franchises on the poll...so look forward to it.**

 **Now, this one is a bit of an odd crossover. It was me revisiting the Icy Harmony (Harry/Hermione/Daphne) pairing from my _John Wick_ crossover attempt _Men of Focus_ , along with similar themes, namely, Harry being the heir to a criminal empire, albeit without the WBWL baggage. The crossover is an unusual one, though, insomuch as I don't think ANYONE has done it before here on this website. The crossover is with the _Dr Mabuse_ films.**

 ** _Dr Mabuse, the Gambler_ was a novel written by Jacques Norbert, adapted by Fritz Lang (later of _Metropolis_ fame) into a two-part silent film in 1922, with a sound sequel being done in 1933, _The Testament of Dr Mabuse_. Mabuse was a psychologist and criminal mastermind who could use hypnosis to make people do his bidding. He was played wonderfully by Rudolf Klein-Rogge, who would later play the mad scientist Rotwang in _Metropolis_. In the films, he is hinted to become a malign spirit, possessing other people to do his bidding in creating an anarchic 'society of crime'. Here, Harry is his heir, and heir to his empire. Be afraid...**

* * *

 _ **GAMBLER OF MAGICAL BRITAIN**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **INHERITANCE**

Darkness, contrary to popular opinion, is not absolute. It never is. Indeed, it has varying shades, different types of darkness. What's more, people talk about the rising tide of darkness, but they forget tides are cyclical, that they wax and wane with the Moon.

And sometimes, different types of darkness arise at the same time.

In mid-1995, Tom Marvolo Riddle Junior, better known as Lord Voldemort, was given a new body at long last in a dark ritual. He knew that this was but the first step to an eventual takeover of Magical Britain, and with it, the world. He believed that, once the time was right, he would steamroller over the opposition. Dumbledore would fall, and soon, so too would Harry Potter.

But another faction of darkness was arising. One no less fanatical than the Death Eaters. It was an empire of shadows that had lain dormant, being taken care of by stewards who looked to the heir to their legacy from the shadows, and began subtly preparing for him to take the throne.

They had been hampered and hobbled and hindered, but the events of the Tri-Wizard Tournament had given them sorely-needed leverage. Now, the heir to their legacy was almost ready to take up his mantle. And woe-betide any who stood in his way…

In an office, a boy in his mid-teens was looking over a number of photos, putting them into his hand and shuffling them like cards. It was a habit he picked up from his ancestor, he knew(1). He was smirking rather nastily to himself at some thought or another.

At last, his shackles had been removed. Well, for the most part. There were still some to go. But now, he was making the first true steps towards freedom.

The door opened, and a bushy-haired girl about his age walked in. "How does it feel?" she asked.

"Pretty damn good. We've been working on this ever since Second Year. You know, I should feel more disturbed at being the heir to a criminal empire that's been around for decades. Hell, I'm surprised that you aren't more disturbed."

"What can I say? My parents helped in that regard. And I've known you for long enough, Harry. Criminal or not, I believe in you. Besides, that whole House Elf thing was explained to me by Daphne back in Third Year. I just did SPEW to draw the old wether's attention away from the fact that I was shifting the House Elves' loyalty to us. Dobby helped."

"And now, we have our own spies within Hogwarts," Harry said with a smirk. "Still, I'm a bit annoyed how I didn't get to take you or Daph to the Yule Ball. It would have been infinitely more tolerable, Hermione."

Hermione returned his smirk. "Well, maybe I can make it up to you. Your birthday's coming soon. 16 years. I'm sorry we had to keep it secret. You know, us being us."

"Don't worry. This year is the year when the masks come off. These fools who think they know how to gamble with people's lives…they don't know what to do when faced with a true gambler…"

It had been a chance encounter during his Second Year, shortly after the Polyjuice Potion incident. Harry had been approached in private by one of the Slytherins, namely Daphne Greengrass. She had seen through their acts as Crabbe and Goyle, and had approached Harry to discuss some things. The first was that she was almost certain that the Heir of Slytherin wasn't actually in Slytherin, despite many of her peers viewing the deaths of the Halfbloods and Muggleborns as desirable. The second was to let him know that he had allies in her family, and had given him a Portkey to that effect. She told him it would take him to Greengrass Manor when he spoke the words: 'Dr Mabuse, the Gambler'.

They had seen each other a few times over that year, before eventually, he used the Portkey in the wake of the Aunt Marge incident, needing somewhere to go. And it was there, from Cyrus Greengrass, that he learned his true destiny. It was surprising and shocking, but it was true.

From his maternal grandmother, he was descended from Doctor Jacques Mabuse(2), a French-born German psychologist and hypnotherapist. Mabuse's career as a psychologist was nothing truly special. But he became infamous for other reasons.

Dr Mabuse, you see, was a criminal mastermind.

Mabuse was expelled from Beauxbatons at a young age due to using Legilimency on a part-Veela student, his wand snapped, and his magic bound. Mabuse, however, found that he could still use magic for one ability only: Legilimency. He was a master of using Legilimency to take control of people's minds and plant suggestions that made the Imperius look tame by comparison. After moving to Germany, Mabuse studied psychology to give himself a Muggle cover. Then, under the cover of his psychologist career, he began creating a criminal network that began reaching out across Europe, much of it being centred on a post-World War I Germany, and Berlin.

Mabuse used a variety of disguises and techniques to get his way. In one scheme, he engineered the theft of secret trade documents to exploit the ensuing panic on the stock market for massive profits. However, he also enjoyed controlling people into playing badly or cheating at cards to his own advantage. In terms of scope and scale, he was very much on the level of the infamous crime boss Jonathan Wild, who worked as a 'thief-taker', arresting thieves and confiscating stolen goods to sell them back to their owners, while actually employing the thieves himself…and sending them to the gallows if they were too problematic(3).

Mabuse's downfall came at the hands of a tenacious state prosecutor Norbert von Wenk, who had managed to overcome Mabuse's attempts at assassination. Mabuse, driven mad when trapped in a secret counterfeiting room, was condemned to an insane asylum, whereupon he began obsessively writing plans for various crimes. In the early 1930s, these crimes were carried out, with Mabuse apparently involved, even after his death. The official story was that the owner of the asylum, Professor Baum, had gone mad and believed himself to be Dr Mabuse. But the rumour was that Mabuse's spirit possessed Baum.

Whatever happened, Mabuse's organisation survived, leaving Germany as the Nazis took control, though it retained roots there. It settled in England, along with its heir, who eventually became the mother of Petunia and Lily Evans. It was Lily who was eventually chosen to lead the new organisation, and she used it to great effect during the war against Voldemort…much to the chagrin of Dumbledore, who, while he didn't know who Mabuse's heir was until later, had considerably qualms about allowing the organisation to run amok.

The Greengrasses, ever the pragmatic Slytherins of Magical Britain, opted to ally themselves with Mabuse's organisation. In exchange, the then leader named them stewards and custodians of the organisation, which became known as the Thousand Eyes(4). It was in this capacity that the Greengrasses kept the Thousand Eyes alive, while trying to ensure that Harry would be ready for his role as the new head of the organisation.

Surprisingly, Hermione turned out to have a link to said organisation. Hermione's parents claimed to be dentists, but in fact, the Grangers were amongst Britain's most feared assassins. While they were qualified in dental medicine, in truth, they called themselves dentists as something of a bad joke: they liked to remove bad teeth, as well as fill holes. The latter being either dental cavities, or graves(5).

Hermione allow Daphne to become friends with Harry, albeit covertly, due to a certain Ron Weasley. When the three met, it was secretly. It was Daphne who first told Harry about Sirius being his godfather. The two helped Harry survive the Tri-Wizard Tournament, though for appearances' sake, they had to take other dates to the Yule Ball.

Harry considered himself lucky to have met them, let alone have them as his girlfriends and soon-to-be lovers. Both beautiful. Both intelligent. Both understanding of his position as heir apparent to the Thousand Eyes, and thus a criminal empire that spanned much of Europe.

And now, here they were. Harry was on the cusp of assuming his birthright, as the heir to Dr Mabuse. And with the Thousand Eyes, they would deal with Voldemort, as well as bringing change to Magical Britain, whether the wizards liked it or not.

Of course, Rome wasn't built in a day. And there were obstacles that had to be dealt with…

Daphne was reading a copy of _The Daily Prophet_ as she walked into the office. A sneer was touching her lips, one that her Head of House would have been very proud of. "Look at this drivel," she said, slapping down the paper, allowing Harry to read it.

He snorted derisively. " _The Boy Who Lies?_ Looks like Rita wasn't the only reporter to fabricate stories. Not that I don't lie, but…these idiots are sheep refusing to believe that wolves are circling their flock. Hermione, does Crookshanks need something to line his litter box?"

"No. What about under Hedwig's perch?"

Daphne sniffed, her blonde hair framing her aristocratically beautiful features. "I daresay excrement would improve the quality of that paper. Incidentally, we've finally found the most likely candidate for Voldemort's means of achieving immortality. Your hunch was somewhat correct, Hermione. Voldemort's probably used a Horcrux, and if he has, he's made more than one."

"What's a Horcrux?" Harry asked.

"A particular kind of phylactery, a soul receptacle," Hermione said. "I've been asking Sirius to send us books to review, and I found something that I asked Daphne to follow up in the Greengrass library. It's a means of splitting one's soul via murder, and placing part of your soul into an object."

Daphne nodded. "In Russia, they have the legend of Koschei the Deathless, who hid his soul within a needle, which was hidden in other objects and animals, to prevent himself from dying. The real Koschei was said to have actually created a Horcrux. I did some more research. Remember the Diary the Weasley girl was possessed by. That may have been a Horcrux. But as Voldemort was reportedly obsessed with obtaining immortality, he probably made several, which is insane, but…well, he was never considered a paragon of sanity."

"And in other breaking news, the ocean is wet, Daph," Harry muttered.

"Which means we'll have to track down multiple Horcruxes," Hermione mused. "Do we have any idea on what, though? Let alone where?"

"There's at least a few places I think we could check," Daphne said. "While the Goblins refuse to aid Dumbledore or the Ministry thanks to Bagman, they are on better terms with us, and it's possible that either Voldemort or one of his trusted followers has a Horcrux in their vault. After all, if Malfoy had one, who's to say one of the others has another Horcrux? I would put money on it being one of the Lestranges, given how fanatical Bellatrix was towards him. Hogwarts may be another hiding place, so I suggest we check the Room of Requirement next time we're there, just in case. And that snake you spotted, the familiar…well, a living Horcrux has never been done, but Voldemort would be insane enough to try it."

"We'll need to have some way of finding out how many there are, and where they are," Harry mused. "A ritual, perhaps?"

"There's nothing in the texts, not for want of trying, but we could try the Cursebreakers at Gringotts," Hermione said. "We'll just have to be careful if Bill Weasley gets involved. I don't know how beholden he is to Dumbledore, but if he's like the rest of his family, save for the Twins…"

"Yeah. They just don't know how badly they screwed up," Harry said. "Now…how's the interrogation of my oh-so-loving relatives going?"

"Fairly well. I'm surprised at how vicious Lupin can be, even for a werewolf," Daphne said.

"He may have been beholden to Dumbledore, but guilt over not trying to look after me is a powerful motivator," Harry said. "Anyway, he was good friends with my mother, more than Sirius was. Between being beholden to the so-called Leader of the Light, and working for someone who won't hold his condition over him, even if we're involved in illegal things…well, I'm proud of bringing him into the fold."

"And the fact that you plan to deliver him Fenrir Greyback as revenge for turning him has nothing to do with it?" Daphne asked with a wry eyebrow.

"As the head of an organisation like this, I need to provide my people with incentives," Harry said. "Carrots work better than sticks, even if the sticks are sometimes needed. Well, I feel like calling on my so-called relatives."

With that, he stood, and walked out the office, Hermione and Daphne following him. He had to admit, he had a vindictive streak, and he was enjoying doing what he did to the Dursleys. For years, they had used him as a servant, a punching bag, a scapegoat. Well, you know what they said. Payback's a bitch…and she was in heat…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry's the heir to Doctor Mabuse. Be afraid.**

 **I very loosely recapped the first two Dr Mabuse films:** ** _Dr Mabuse, the Gambler_** **, and** ** _The Testament of Dr Mabuse_** **. Those are the only 'canon' films as far as this story is concerned. Incidentally, Mabuse's organisation fleeing Nazi Germany was meant to parallel Fritz Lang's own exodus.**

 **Also, eagle-eyed readers will notice a few sequences copied and pasted from my abortive** ** _John Wick_** **crossover** ** _Men of Focus_** **, though a couple were from later chapters not published.**

 **1\. The very first shot of** ** _Dr Mabuse, the Gambler_** **(after the opening credits and the first intertitle) is of Mabuse doing this very thing, picking out photos of his disguises and shuffling them like cards, before picking a disguise seemingly at random.**

 **2\. I don't think Mabuse is ever given a first name in the films, so I gave him the name 'Jacques', after his creator, Jacques Norbert. Because Mabuse sounds like the French 'm'abuse' (or 'I abuse myself', a reference to Mabuse's self-destructive tendency to meddle too much in his own schemes at times), I decided that Mabuse was of French origin, but had emigrated to Germany.**

 **3\. Jonathan Wild was a real criminal, said to be one of Arthur Conan Doyle's inspirations for Moriarty.**

 **4\. While** ** _The Thousand Eyes of Doctor Mabuse_** **is not canon to this work, I referenced the title of that movie in naming Mabuse's organisation.**

 **5\. It was a joke I made up for my** ** _Resident Evil_** **crossover** ** _Henry Ashford and the Goblet of Fire_** **.**


	110. Under the Light of the (Original) Chap 1

**Well, I have to admit to being surprised at the positive response to the previous sample chapter. And given that that story was based on a (relatively) obscure film series, at least outside of Germany, I have to wonder how this sample chapter would do, given that it's based on one of the most famous animated series of recent years... _RWBY_.**

 **Yes, that's right. This is my first attempt at a _RWBY_ crossover. It's hardly the first to feature Harry as a Faunus, or a wolf Faunus for that matter, but AFAIK, it's one of the few to try and pair Harry with Blake Belladonna, if not the only fic. That being said, it is something of an AU. And sorry, Weiss fans, but she won't be part of Team RWBY. That being said, she may yet appear in the story.**

 **While this story has a WBWL story as background, that's where it stays, for the time being: as background. Harry is the bastard child of Lily and Remus (as in a couple of my other WBWL stories), and was chucked through the Veil along with his biological father by James out of malice. But that's not important to the storyline.**

 **EDIT (OCT 24, 2017): So, I've done some thinking, and have decided to start again from scratch with _Under the Light of the Shattered Moon_...which, if you've read my preamble before the chapters of _Neopolitan and the Goblet of Fire_ , you already know about. Keep an eye out for the new chapters!**

* * *

 _ **UNDER THE LIGHT OF THE SHATTERED MOON (ORIGINAL)  
**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **HARRY AND BLAKE**

High in the sky, the silvery light of a partly-shattered moon shone down on the city of Vale. And down one of those moonlit streets strode an unusual pair of teenagers, trying to ignore the stares their appearance drew to them. Instead, they spoke in quiet tones.

"It's bad enough that White Fang has lost its way, but now the rumours of them working with Torchwick?" asked the boy. "I didn't think Bully-Boy had it in him to work with a human."

The girl next to him scoffed. "He sacrificed his principles long ago, as did the rest of White Fang," she said softly.

"And in other news, the ocean is wet," the boy snarked. He had a messy thatch of dark hair, green eyes with flecks of gold in them framed by glasses, and a pair of wolf ears protruding from his head. "Though he'd probably stab Torchwick in the back when he got what he wanted…though I'm sure Torchwick would do the same."

The girl didn't reply. Black hair framed beautiful, if somewhat lugubrious features, with a pair of cat-like ears protruding from the top of her head. Her eyes were golden, and her expression was solemn.

There was a sudden chirp, and the pair of them pulled out what looked like smartphones. "What's up, Rainbow?" the boy asked, answering the call.

" _We've got a concrete sighting of Torchwick_ ," came the voice of a girl. " _He was spotted by one of our informants heading into the_ Dust to Dawn _shop. It's one of the few Dust shops open so late, and he may be attempting a robbery. He's certainly brought a lot of goons for just a moonlit stroll_."

The boy looked at the girl, who asked, "Rainbow, we're close to the shop. We'll head there right now."

" _Got it, Nero. You and Vert take care, okay?_ "

"We will, don't worry," the boy said, hanging up, before getting his weapon ready from his back, as did his companion. His was a trident. Hers looked like a cleaver in a sheathe. "Ready to go, Blake?" he asked.

"As always, Harry," Blake replied, a faint smile touching her features as they began running for their destination…

* * *

They arrived just in time to witness the last stages of a fight, where a bunch of goons in black suits were ganging up on a girl in her mid-teens, wearing a black dress and a red hooded cloak. _Is it me, or does she look like Little Red Riding Hood?_ Harry thought to himself as they dashed up. _Though I have to pity the Big Bad Wolf. Oh, Red, what a HUGE scythe you have there_ …

And indeed, the fight was one-sided…for the goons. The girl expertly used a massive red scythe to dance around the goons, and then knock them senseless. And watching the spectacle from just outside the door was the man they had come to find. He was dressed in some natty white suit, with a black bowler hat, the fringe of his orange hair hanging over down one eye, while the other was decorated in make-up. He also had a cane. Had Harry ever watched _A Clockwork Orange_ back in his old world (though he was too young to do so), he would have made the comparison to the thuggish Alex, dressed up in a parody of sophistication.

This, then, was Roman Torchwick, and he watched in irritation as the last of his thugs were knocked out. He muttered, albeit loudly enough for Harry and Blake to catch the words, "…Worth every cent, you were. No, really." Louder, he said, grinding his cigar under his cane as sirens approached, "Well, Red, it's been fun, but it's past time to say 'Au revoir'!" With that, he aimed his cane at the girl, with the bottom popping off to reveal a gun barrel.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" Harry yelled, pointing his palm in a halting gesture. But Torchwick had fired by that time, though the girl he was aiming at dodged, using the recoil of the gun built into her scythe to fly into the air. In the explosion that ensued from the projectile fired, Torchwick managed to flee when Harry and Blake shielded their eyes from the blast.

Harry and Blake, along with the girl, saw Roman hurrying up a fire escape onto a rooftop. "Blake, are you fine with staying with the shopkeeper?"

Blake, after a moment, nodded. "Don't take foolish risks. Like you normally do," she added dryly.

Harry dashed over, and leapt onto the roof, using his abilities to boost it, only to be irritated when the girl in the Red Riding Hood getup followed. However, Torchwick was running towards the edge of the building, and to Harry's irritation, still had his cane, though he now noted a strap keeping it on his wrist. "Oi!" Harry yelled.

"Persistent little bastard," Torchwick said, before turning, and frowning. "You…well, you couldn't take my Melodic Cudgel this time. And should you be babysitting Red there?"

"She followed me," Harry retorted. "Now, you'll come with me quietly, or I'll make sure you have a few bruises and broken bones. Your choice."

"Really?" the girl asked.

Torchwick sneered, only for a VTOL aircraft, a Bullhead, to rise up from behind the building. He hopped in, and threw a Dust crystal at them. "End of the line, bitches!"

As he aimed his cane at them again, Harry cast a Summoning Charm on the crystal, bringing it out of the line of fire and preventing an explosion, though he and the girl had to dodge back. But there suddenly someone in front of them, what looked like a wand at the ready. And Harry was pretty sure he recognised the woman.

"Goodwitch," Harry muttered.

The blonde woman, dressed in a rather severe dress with a cape over it, wearing spectacles over her light green eyes, glanced back at him, before she began firing what looked like spells at the Bullhead. Roman Torchwick retreated into the cockpit of the aircraft, only for a figure, half-hidden in shadow, to appear. It was definitely a woman, with a red dress, black hair, and glowing golden eyes, narrowed in malevolence, but other details were hard to pick out.

"Girl," Harry said, bringing himself between the Bullhead and the Red Riding Hood wannabe, "fall back. Goodwitch has this."

And so it seemed, as Goodwitch, with a gesture, made a storm cloud appear above the aircraft, and what looked like spears of ice beginning to impale the aircraft. But the girl didn't seem to want to, her silver eyes blazing with annoyance. "Hey, she could use our help. And I'm not 'girl', I'm Ruby!"

Before Harry could retort, the woman in the shadows of the Bullhead's bay fired off a blast of energy, with Harry pulling Ruby away from the blast. Goodwitch, after dodging the explosion herself, summoned the debris and turned it into a spear, before firing it at the Bullhead. The golden-eyed woman tried to destroy the spear and managed to mitigate the damage, only to form energy blasts under Goodwitch, Harry and Ruby.

Harry, thinking fast, grabbed Ruby and leapt straight up into the air, avoiding the explosion, before he aimed his trident at them. The prongs sparked electricity, and then sent a blast of lightning at the Bullhead…only for the aircraft to pull away in time. Ruby began shooting at it with her scythe as they reached the zenith of Harry's jump, and then ended up coming down to the roof.

As he let Ruby down, he snarled. "Son of a bitch!"

"Language," Goodwitch observed.

"English," Harry retorted. But before he could get into a blazing row with the Deputy Headmistress of Beacon, Ruby interposed herself between them.

"You're a Huntress? Oh, that is so cool! Can I have your autograph?!" she babbled.

* * *

"…Which is why we're here," Harry said to Blake, as they sat in a room, waiting to be talked to. They had been brought here by Goodwitch, and then left in what seemed to be an interrogation room in one of the Vale Police Stations. "You'd think they'd not arrest us out of gratitude."

"I don't think we've been arrested, Harry. Even the Vale police would make sure that suspects weren't kept together. And you kept that girl safe, didn't you?"

"Yeah, though she doesn't know when to keep her mouth shut. Even more than me, and that's saying something," Harry muttered. "She went all fangirl on Goodwitch."

Blake snorted. "So what are we doing here?"

"Well, it's one of the great mysteries, isn't it? Are we the product of a vast cosmic coincidence, or is there a god with a plan for us? Well, that keeps me awake at night."

After a moment, Blake said, "…You and Grif have _got_ to stop talking(1)."

It was then that the door opened, and Goodwitch came in, though she was preceded by a tall, handsome man, apparently in his thirties, though his age was hard to tell. He had short grey hair and brown eyes, with small spectacles. Harry and Blake recognised him immediately: Professor Ozpin, the headmaster of Beacon Academy.

"Harry Evans-Lupin, and Blake Belladonna," he said. "Founding members of the White Fang splinter group Talon, formerly known as 'Blake's Seven'(2), which split away from the White Fang due to a disagreement about methods. Noted for minor acts of sabotage, major acts of theft, as well as embarrassing the executives of the Schnee Dust Company. Jacques Schnee certainly wasn't happy when you managed to persuade his youngest daughter to follow in her older sister's footsteps and join the Atlas Academy."

"Weiss wasn't exactly happy when we showed her the difference between corporate propaganda and reality," Harry said. "The Schnee Dust Company may once have been more of a paragon of a company, but not now with that moustached moron running it." He smirked inwardly at the thought that Talon had done more damage to Jacques Schnee and the company he married into with some hacked video and files than White Fang had ever done with any theft or bombings. Not that Adam Taurus or Sienna Khan would give a crap.

"That being said, you've embarrassed more than a few people, and the only reason why certain people high up haven't focused on you more is that your efforts work to their advantage. Your actions in assisting trying to bring Roman Torchwick into custody will only help matters," Ozpin said. "Actually, I have been trying to track you two down for some time. Rumours reached my ears of your skill in combat, and I was wondering whether you two would be interested in joining Beacon. Training as Hunters will work to elevate Talon's reputation."

"And what's the catch?" Harry asked.

"There's no stick in this situation. My colleague here," he indicated Glynda Goodwitch, "believes that your actions were only marginally less reckless than those of Miss Rose, although she was gratified to find that one of you stayed to guard the owner of the shop robbed. In addition, you, Harry, worked to keep Miss Rose safe."

"Well, she's pretty good at combat, but she didn't quite have a good danger sense," Harry said. "She needs more experience, I reckon. So, if we don't want to go to Beacon, we're free to leave?"

"Of course. In fact, I will put in a good word for you and your actions to the authorities."

Harry looked over at Blake. While he was their spokesperson per se, given that Blake wasn't the most talkative of people, Blake was, as far as he was concerned, the leader of Talon, even if their leadership was shared with a few other founding members, including 'Rainbow', aka Ilia, a chameleon Faunus.

Blake eventually said, "We'd like to talk to our comrades first."

"I understand," Ozpin said. "Regardless of whether you accept or not, here's my contact details." He handed over a card. "Ruby has accepted my offer of joining Beacon."

Harry frowned. "Isn't she a bit young? Blake and I are 17, so we'd be able to join, transcripts aside, but Ruby's probably still going to Signal."

"Yes, she is, but I see great potential in her, as I do in you," Ozpin said. "I look forward to your answer, regardless of what you choose…"

* * *

It took some considerable discussion between Harry, Blake, and their comrades in the higher echelons of Talon, but it was eventually agreed that, in the interest of improving their skills and the standing of Talon (in Vale, at least), Harry and Blake would accept Ozpin's proposal. However, they were to stay in contact, and keep an eye out for White Fang activity in Vale when they could. In addition, Ilia had contacted Ozpin herself, and they had decided that she would act as Talon's liaison with Beacon. Ozpin accepted, partly because such a decision would irritate his ally, General Ironwood, head of the Atlesian Military. Ironwood and Ozpin didn't always see eye to eye, and Ilia was former Atlesian Military, deserting after attacking students mocking the death of her parents in a Schnee Dust mine (and then mocking her depression when they realised she was a Faunus in disguise: she could keep her skin at human-like colours, after all).

So there they were on an airship heading to Beacon a couple of days later. They soon encountered the girl from the other day, Ruby Rose, who wanted to see their weapons. And thankfully, she didn't seem to be an anti-Faunus bigot. "So, you guys are from Talon?" she asked, curiously.

Ilia nodded. "I'm Ilia Amitola. I'm acting as an official liaison between Talon and Beacon. You've met Blake and Harry."

Blake nodded, and Harry smiled at Ruby. Once she wasn't acting like a hyperactive child, she was actually pleasant to be around. "You're lucky, Ruby," Harry said. "Roman Torchwick is, well, he's a nasty sort. And lately, he's been working with the White Fang."

Ruby grimaced. "So…was he stealing stuff for White Fang?"

"Or for himself," Blake said. "But Dust in large quantities is dangerous. In any case, we'll have to be careful if he shows up again."

It was at that point that a blonde, rather buxom girl with violet eyes appeared, glomping onto Ruby. After greeting Ruby as her sister and talking to her, the blonde girl noticed she had interrupted, and said, "Sorry, I was just so glad to see my sister coming to Beacon. I'm Yang Xiao Long."

Ilia introduced herself, and then Blake and Harry again. "Would you two like a moment?" Harry asked.

Ruby and Yang nodded, before moving away. "They were sisters?" Ilia asked. "They don't look much alike."

"Maybe one of them was adopted," Harry remarked.

"Maybe," Blake conceded.

Ilia sighed, walking over to the wall, glancing briefly at a blonde-haired boy who looked nauseous, before looking out the window. "At least they have a family," she said. "My parents were killed thanks to Jacques Schnee and his business practises, and your father, Harry…"

"Yeah, I know," Harry said, looking down, clenching a fist as he thought of Adam Taurus standing over the body of Remus Lupin, his biological father. Not the man who abandoned him. Not James Potter, who had both him and his father thrown through the Veil in secret, thanks to friends in the Department of Mysteries. All so he could raise the Boy Who Lived without any fear of a bastard overshadowing him. A bastard, as well as his true father, the one who sired him with his mother, Lily.

In a way, he was grateful that it happened. Remnant may not have been a holiday resort, what with the Grimm, and the discrimination against Faunus (Harry still wasn't sure how the trip through the Veil turned him into one, though he wasn't complaining), but he had been loved. Hell, he was loved even now, by Blake.

His thoughts were disturbed when he saw the news projection showing that Roman Torchwick was still on the run. The news then changed to coverage of a Faunus civil rights rally that White Fang disrupted, though it was interrupted by Glynda appearing, and giving some speech welcoming them to Beacon.

Ilia, Harry and Blake all looked out the view windows at their destination, at Beacon. Harry had to admit, he was looking forward to this. He was excited for what was going to happen.

Though the moment was spoiled when the queasy blonde barfed on his shoes…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry (from a WBWL situation, it seems) is in Remnant, is a Faunus, and is now Blake's lover. But what next? And how did Harry actually end up becoming a Faunus? How did he earn Blake's love and Adam Taurus' ire? And will he be part of Team RWBY? Only, without Weiss, it may yet become RHBY…**

 **Now, I have to admit, I don't like Weiss. When I wanted to avoid doing a five-person team, Weiss was my first thought in eliminating from Team RWBY. But how? My first thought was to have her kidnapped by White Fang and held to ransom, only for Jacques to refuse to pay the ransom. And so, a la Patty Hearst, or Elektra King from the James Bond film** ** _The World is Not Enough_** **(it's clearer in the novel of the film), Weiss would ally herself with White Fang in revenge. Thankfully for you Weiss fans, I discussed the idea with whitetigerwolf, who is a fan of** ** _RWBY_** **, and shot down the idea, and made the suggestion of her following her sister and joining Atlas Academy instead. This suggestion I have taken. And yes, Weiss may yet come to Beacon, albeit in a different capacity to the series.**

 **Harry has both magic and Aura. We'll discuss how that works, but Harry used magic to enhance his ability to jump earlier.**

 **I brought in Ilia as a member of Talon as opposed to White Fang after seeing her in the Blake trailer for Season 5, and hearing her story. Here, she is older (albeit by a year or two) than Harry and Blake, but they're the same in terms of authority. They're amongst the senior members of Talon.**

 **Incidentally, having Harry become a wolf Faunus is nothing new. The stories** ** _RWBY, JNPR and HAIL_** **, and** ** _Nothing Left_** **both have Harry becoming a wolf Faunus. However, I don't think either of those stories have an actual explanation, whereas here, it's due to him being Remus Lupin's bastard son. We'll get to the details later…**

 **1\. Yes, this is a reference to** ** _Red vs Blue_** **, and to its very first episode. There is a Grif in Talon, and while he's still a lazy smartarse, he's also better than his Blood Gulch counterpart. Expect more cameos from** ** _Red vs Blue_** **characters in Remnant.**

 **2\. This is a cheeky reference to the BBC TV series** ** _Blake's 7_** **, which (appropriately, given Talon being a resistance group against both the Schnee Dust Company and White Fang) is about a group of freedom fighters in the future.**


	111. Girl Genius' Animagus Chapter 1

**Well, I'm glad of the enthusiastic response to _Under the Light of the Shattered Moon_ , and rest assured, a second chapter is on the way. But this idea came up, and I just HAD to post it. In fact, this will probably be posted as a full story sooner (assuming I get that far), as I need to watch more of _RWBY_ first before I continue _Under the Light of the Shattered Moon_.  
**

 **Anyway, a few of you might have noted posted in my other compilations of a certain crossover being melded with _My Hero Academia_ and _Naruto_. Well, after some thought of doing it in the Potterverse (including considering doing, with permission, a story based on Jonn Wolfe's sample chapter of _Just a Spark_ ), I decided to do another story based on whitetigerwolf's 'Animagus Lover' based on this crossover.**

 **The crossover is with the webcomic _Girl Genius_.**

 **For those not in the know, _Girl Genius_ is a series about an alternate history where, in the words of the authors Phil and Kaja Foglio, 'mad scientists rule the world. Badly'. This story has Harry, having fallen through the Veil and ended up in the _Girl Genius_ world, becoming the companion of Agatha Clay (or rather, Agatha Heterodyne), first as a pet owl, and then as her comrade in trying to find out her past.**

 **I hope you enjoy...**

* * *

 _ **GIRL GENIUS' ANIMAGUS**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **BREAKING THROUGH BARRIERS**

There were few bright spots in Agatha Clay's life. Even her senses seemed to be washed out, dulled, the world seeming to be monochrome, shades of grey with only the slightest dash of colour. She had few prospects, or at least she wouldn't have had, had it not been for Dr Beetle. She had to wonder why he favoured her, when she was a klutz, when she suffered massive headaches whenever she tried to build anything. Oh, and there was the kindness of Glassvitch, but given how Merlot treated her, well…Agatha felt worse than useless.

One of the few bright spots in her life, apart from Glassvitch's kindness and her adoptive parents Adam and Lilith, was a constant companion, or at least he had been since she had found him outside her adoptive parents' shop a couple of years ago. An owl, injured, tired, one she had nursed back to health, with dark feathers and brilliant emerald eyes, and a weird lightning-shaped patch of white feathers above one eye. The owl kind of hung around after that, and she called him Emerald, because of his eyes.

Her adoptive parents had been a little reluctant for her to look after the bird, but Emerald refused to go away, and soon, he became part of the family. Hell, sometimes he seemed so human. He certainly seemed smart enough to respond with a shake of the head or a nod, or even a winged shrug, to her questions. Maybe, she speculated (and it was speculation her adoptive parents shared, albeit with darker implications) that Emerald was some sort of Construct, trying to make a smarter owl.

He often went with her to Transylvanian Polygnostic University, perched on her shoulder, much to the amusement of Glassvitch, the bemusement of Beetle, and the ire of Merlot (though this wasn't just due to Merlot's general obstreperous nature, especially towards Agatha: Emerald had a habit of flying over Merlot and shitting on him when the belligerent non-Spark scientist gave her grief). And here he was this day when everything changed…though not necessarily for the better.

As she walked down the street, downcast, ready to begin her day, Agatha suddenly heard a commotion. People's hair began standing on end, and electricity arced from every bit of bare metal, including Agatha's glasses. She heard shouts from various people, before with a great crackle of noise…something appeared in their air in front of her.

It was as if a window had opened up in the air, revealing a strange, metallic figure, vaguely feminine, glowing eyes glaring out from beneath a helmet from which Gorgon-like cables mocking hair swayed. The entity pointed at Agatha, though whether in accusation or demonstration, she didn't know, and it snarled, in a distorted eldritch voice, "… _LIKE THAT?!_ "

With a squeak of fear, Agath fled down an alley, Emerald, startled into flight by the apparition, following. Agatha tripped over a box and tumbled to the ground, noting only briefly a poster on reporting any revenants immediately to Dr Beetle. And then, he heard a voice drawl, "Well, well, well, lookee here, Moloch. Looks like our very own angel of mercy has crash-landed before our very eyes. Obviously, she's looking for a fine pair of soldiers-of-fortune to send her on her merry way?"

There were two soldiers, dressed in rather filthy uniforms. The one who spoke had a wounded leg and a rather nasty leer, while the other had a full beard, and a more pleasant expression, though the bottle in his hand could have explained that. "Yeah, Omar, she must know that you just wasted our last coins on this cat's piss you call booze. Help her up, Omar, okay? Hey, miss, d'you have any change you can spare?"

"She can spare more than that if she's got a locket and a pet," Omar leered, only for Emerald to make a threatening growl, insomuch as an owl could do that. "Ooh, scary, a featherduster is trying to frighten me," he sneered.

"Leave it off, Omar," Moloch said. "It's got claws and a beak. Plus, owls are birds of prey."

"Sod that," Omar sneered, but as he advanced on Agatha, theft at the very least on his mind (and worse, Agatha feared), Emerald launched into the air and began scratching at his face, screeching. "FUCK!" Omar screamed, before grabbing the bird, and smashing him against a nearby wall.

The sickening snap Agatha heard had her snatch Moloch's bottle before smashing it against Omar's face. "Bastard," she hissed. She rarely swore, but to see Emerald attacked like that…

Omar suddenly grabbed her and slapped her, hard. Stars exploded behind her eyes as blood ran down his face. "That hurt, you bitch! I don't take that sort of shit from a bloody civilian or her fucking pet!"

Moloch was on his feet, and grabbing the man's shoulder. "Stop that, Omar! Don't you remember what they do to people in this town? They put them into those damned jars to die, and I for one don't wanna end my days in one of those things!"

Omar seemed to realise that, before he sneered, and stole Agatha's locket, the one her Uncle Barry gave her, in the shape of a trilobite. "Call that compensation for what you and your pet did to me, bitch," he said, before shoving her roughly to the ground. "You're so charitable, doll. Bye!"

He ran off laughing, while Moloch muttered, while following him, "You're a lowlife, Omar…"

 _No, my locket!_ Agatha thought. "Stop, thief! You…you filth! I'll report this! Dr Beetle's Clanks will come for you, catch you, and put you into a jar in University Square to rot! And I'll come every day while you roast in the Sun and _starve and claw at the glass in futility and scream as you DIE SLOWLY LIKE_ _ **THE HORRIBLE RATS THAT YOU ARE!**_ "

The rant began to build into a crescendo, only for Agatha to feel a knife of ice stab through her head. She screamed in pain, and even as she panted in pain, she was unaware that something was changing…apart from inside her own head, anyway…

* * *

Oh, this brought him back. The jolt of pain through his left wing. It stirred memories that had been adrift in the fog for a while, memories he had allowed to be submerged. Because to remember that he was once human was to remember all the pain he had suffered.

It was a walrus who had broken that arm last. Well, a man who was very like a walrus. He had the moustache and the corpulence. What was his name again? Uncle Venial? Uncle Verruca? Uncle Venereal?

Ah, Vernon. Yes, that fat twat. Fucked a giraffe to have a pig. Or was that a song he once heard?

Gah. Focus, dammit. The owl known as Emerald used the pain to focus his mind. The two bastards had gone, but Agatha was still in pain. Reminded him a little of someone else for some reason, someone with bushy hair.

Another fog-shrouded memory came unbidden to mind. Of a dogfather fighting in a darkened chamber, fighting against a rabid bitch. A curse hit him, he staggered towards an archway…and Emerald needed to save him.

He charged forward, and stopped his dogfather from falling through the archway, only to be knocked through himself. He remembered falling through a void, but only remembered darkly. Even now, his life was mistbound.

But the memory spurred him to do something about this. In his desperation, Emerald reached deep within himself, found something he hadn't used for two years now, and _changed_ …

* * *

Agatha became aware, over the sound of her pained sobbing, that she could hear a noise. She turned to find Emerald on the ground, a wing limp…only, his body was twisting and distorting. Before her astonished eyes, he began to change…before there was no longer an owl in the alley with her…but a boy her age, clutching a broken arm.

He was somewhat short and lanky, even scrawny, dressed in tattered rags that had once been clothes. He had a messy, shoulder-length mop of black hair framing handsome, if haggard features. There seemed to be, oddly enough, black feathers stuck in his hair.

But the things that caught her eye the most were two things. The first was the lightning bolt-shaped scar, snaking out from beneath his fringe. The second, flashing behind scuffed glasses, were emerald-coloured eyes. So much like her own, she realised.

With a grimace, before he took his left arm, which seemed broken, and grasped it in his right hand. With a scream, green light suffused it, and then, he released it. "Oh, that was fucking painful." He looked over at Agatha. "Are you okay, Agatha?" he asked, his voice hoarse and raspy with misuse.

Agatha opened her mouth to reply, only for the chimes of a bell to echo from afar. "Oh no, it's seven!" she hissed in horror. "I'm late!"

The boy gently took her hand. "I'll get you there. Hopefully, I can do this without splinching."

"Wait, what?" was all Agatha could say, before she suddenly found out what it was like to be toothpaste squeezed from a tube…

* * *

…And appearing in the laboratory she had been assigned to with a loud, gunshot-like crack! Leaping into the air was the dark-skinned Doctor Glassvitch, who whirled to face Agatha. "Agatha? And…who is this?" he asked with his French accent.

"Umm, this used to be Emerald, Doctor Glassvitch," Agatha said, in a lost voice. "I'm not…too late, am I?"

"Mere seconds. Agatha, have you been crying? What's wrong?"

It was as if a dam burst, and Agatha threw herself at Glassvitch, crying into his chest. "My locket! They stole my locket, Doctor Glassvitch! It had the only pictures I have of my parents, it belonged to my mother, and now it's GONE!" She subsided, no less miserable, but less hysterical. "…Uncle Barry gave it to me before he left, and he made me promise never to remove it. And now it's gone, he'll be disappointed in me, and now he'll never come back because I'm stupid, damaged, and broken!"

"You're not broken," the boy who was once Emerald said quietly. "At least Barry tried to do something for you. My own uncle kept me in a fucking cupboard. Called me a freak." He gently touched Agatha's shoulder, where he used to perch. "And at least Adam and Lilith care about you, from what I can see."

Agatha looked into the boy's eyes, and asked, quietly, "So…does this mean you were a boy all this time?"

"Uhh, yeah. If it makes you feel any better, you might have noticed I flew away when you got dressed. I mean, you're beautiful and all, but I didn't think you'd appreciate me being a Peeping Tom. I couldn't change back until now, I don't know why."

"You…still have feathers," Agatha said, chuckling, pointing to his head.

He instantly felt for them, and scowled slightly. "Crap. Well, that's what I get for trying an Animagus transformation without training."

"A transformation? Are you a Construct or something?" Glassvitch asked.

"More…something. I'm nobody's lab experiment," the boy said.

Glassvitch snapped his fingers. "Oh! Speaking of which, Agatha, I found your latest machine! You know, your little Clank? Does it work?"

Agatha, timidly, muttered, "I don't know. I mean, I wanted to show you before I showed it to the Master, to Dr Beetle."

" _Bon plan_ ," Glassvitch said. "Dr Beetle is a patient man with you, but wasting his time is still not a wise idea. Shall we see what it does?" He handed over something that looked like a pocketwatch, which Agatha took.

She clicked a button on the top, and a raised section in the middle opened up, revealing an eye. It seemed to sprout a pair of legs, before it started to spasm and convulse, and finally exploded, part of it flying out a nearby window. "Sorry," Agatha muttered.

" _De rien_ ," Glassvitch said. "At least it moved before it exploded, so that's an improvement, no?"

"Not much of one, Glassvitch," came an unpleasant sneer of a voice, an older man with closely-cropped white hair, wearing a visor and an unpleasant scowl on his face appeared, rubbing his head. Merlot, the closest thing she had to a nemesis here. "Encouraging her is a waste of time, and we've got problems enough as it is."

"Problems?" Glassvitch asked.

"Baron Wulfenbach is here, and before you complain, yes, I know he is early by weeks. He's with Dr Beetle as we speak. Glassvitch, we need to clean up after the projects done in the secondary labs. Miss Clay, you and…this vagabond need to get this laboratory cleaned up, and you have half an hour."

"With just two people?" Agatha demanded.

"Don't be insolent!" Merlot snapped. "You seem to be here purely for the twisted amusement of the Master as he watches your pathetic antics, but we are now host to Baron Klaus von Wulfenbach! And he does not suffer fools or incompetence gladly, and you are both!"

"Go fuck yourself, you elitist twat," the boy sneered. "You're worse than Snape, you know that?"

"Well, you had better find some decent clothes, boy, and have a shower. And get those feathers out of your hair!"

Glassvitch took Merlot away, and hissed, "That's enough of your bullying…"

"Quiet, Glassvitch…if they cause enough ruckus, the Baron may not look too closely at the rest of us, understand?" Merlot whispered harshly as he led his colleague out.

Agatha sighed quietly, and then looked at the boy. "Well, we've got half an hour. But how are we going to do that?" she asked.

The boy grinned, rather painfully, before pulling out from his robes a stick, a polished one, apparently made of holly. "Like this," he said, before waving his wand. Almost instantly, cupboards and drawers flew open, and apparatus and blueprints and papers strewn everywhere were soon packed away neatly and tidily. The laboratory was soon, if not immaculate, then more than acceptable. "Wow, I…didn't know that'd work."

Agatha, however, couldn't help but gape. What the hell just happened? She looked at him suspiciously and with sheer astonishment. "…How'd you do that, Emerald?"

"Okay, first thing's first, Agatha? My name isn't Emerald. My real name is Harry Potter. Not that I mind being called Emerald, it was a nice name and all, but I prefer my real name. And as for how I did that…well, I'm a wizard."

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry's revealed himself to Agatha…but they have somewhat more pressing concerns on their hands. Like Baron Wulfenbach, for example…**

 **Those who have followed my stories in** ** _The Cauldron_** **may have noticed some copying and pasting from my attempt at a** ** _One Piece_** **crossover,** ** _Mare Nostrum_** **.**

 **Oh, and as some of you may not be familiar with** ** _Girl Genius_** **, here's a dictionary of terms we will be coming across…**

 **CLANK: Robots, particularly steampunk.**

 **CONSTRUCT: Any biological organism created by a Spark, ranging from chimaeras of human and animal, to Frankenstein-like amalgamations of corpses.**

 **SPARK: Both a term for mad scientists and their ability to create new inventions. When in 'the Madness Place', their morality and restraint tends to go by the wayside, while their intelligence, perception, and hamminess rises.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	112. Girl Genius' Animagus Chapter 2

**Well, I'm actually impressed by the positive feedback this story got. While it will be running along the rails of the _Girl Genius_ storyline somewhat, I've already written up to almost the end of the sixth chapter...which runs the story off the rails. It will go through some of the stations of the canon, but a number of events have changed, and the relationship between Agatha and Klaus, while still antagonistic, will be considerably less so (he's going to realise that she's a Spark earlier, and instead of viewing her more as Lucrezia's daughter, he will view her more as Bill Heterodyne's daughter...and when the Sturmhalten arc comes around, he'll be saved from being Wasped). But other problems will still arise, including Lucrezia. Gil, while no longer a romantic contender, will still be Agatha's strongest ally in the Wulfenbach camp. I have a potential new character to ship him with in mind.  
**

 **Incidentally, for those who care, this is actually a hybrid of both the webcomic and novelisations. The novelisations include a few details and dialogue that wasn't in the original comics, and while most of the story pieces are based on the comic, I'm using the novels for some scenes, like when Lilith tells Agatha what to do when they intend to flee Beetleburg.**

 **Anyway, I feel confident enough to post this as a full story before long, so keep an eye out for it. Tomorrow, I'll post the second chapter to _Under the Light of the Shattered Moon_. You'll have to wait until I watch more of _RWBY_ until I do a full story, if I do manage it. **

**And I am seriously considering a crossover with the Adam Warren comic series _Empowered_ , though whether that's as a one-shot, or as an ongoing story, I don't know. I have too many ideas, but getting them into story form is another matter. I'm certainly seriously considering a crossover with the light novel and anime series _Overlord_.**

* * *

 _ **GIRL GENIUS' ANIMAGUS**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **THE BARON AND THE BEETLE**

How long had it been since he'd had a shower? Years. Two years stuck as a bird. Hell, he still had feathers in his hair, and he had this weird craving for live mice, but he actually missed being human, now that he had managed to get back to normal.

Thankfully, Agatha managed to find some spare coveralls and a labcoat in his rough size, so he changed into those after his shower, and returned to the lab. Agatha was contemplating something, before she looked up. Merlin, she was beautiful. Blonde hair framed a heart-shaped face, her green eyes peering at him curiously behind thick glasses. And even with that rather Victorian-style dress on, she had a beautiful body.

She reminded him painfully of Hermione, and he struggled to forget that. Hermione may be dead, and he had no way of getting back to try and save her…or avenge her. Along with his other friends.

"…So, Emerald…I mean, Harry…what do you mean by a wizard?" Agatha asked.

"Exactly that. Yeah, I know, not very scientific. I don't think scientists back home found out about magic. Besides, you only have Sparks in books and films and stuff back home."

"Home?"

"Yeah. I know this sounds crazy, but I come from another world entirely, I think. Not unless the Industrial Revolution was crazier than I thought."

"…Another world? Like Mars?"

"No, like another Earth, a parallel universe. I mean, we have Europe, I come from England. It's 1894 here(1), but for me, it was 1996. Like I said, I know it sounds crazy, but…"

Agatha peered at him, before she said, "Look, I'm not going to call what you did magic. It's obviously some sort of Will-based Transmogrification Force(2) that hasn't been quantified by science yet. And I don't know what to make of your story. But I have heard a couple of Heterodyne stories, claiming travel to other worlds is possible…look, you tried saving me from that soldier earlier, and, well, you've been a good companion to me so far. No, a friend. So I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. Plus, in hindsight, you're right. You never peeked at me while I was changing. I found that odd, that you were being so polite. Thanks, in retrospect."

"You're welcome. So, what's actually happening here, anyway? Why's that wanker Baron Wulfenbach coming here?"

"I'm not sure," Agatha said, biting her lip. "I think it's something to do with this." She pointed to an apparatus hanging from the ceiling, a complicated cluster of metal tanks and pipes. "I think they called it a Dihoxulator. Dr Glassvitch and Dr Merlot have been working on it for months at Dr Beetle's orders."

"Huh. I wonder why?"

"I don't know. Actually, how did you end up becoming an owl in the first place?"

Harry's face fell at the reminder. "Long story short, I was stupid while trying to save my godfather. I fell through some archway, must've been a portal to another world. In the process, I changed. I don't think we've got enough time for the long story. I don't suppose you have any playing cards?"

* * *

As it happened, there were some in a nearby drawer, and they played a couple of games to while away the time. Agatha seemed to warm more to Harry after the initial shock of learning her pet owl was actually a boy her age died down. And she began humming softly to herself, for reasons Harry wasn't sure about.

Glassvitch and Merlot came back some time later, engaged in a hushed conversation, only to notice the cleaned room, both surprised. "And you were saying she was incompetent?" Glassvitch asked.

"Ah, yes. Well done, Miss Clay," Merlot said, reluctantly, though honestly. "I have to say I'm impressed."

"I had a little help," Agatha said modestly with a smile.

Suddenly, one of the doors burst open, and a heavily-accented voice barked out, "No von move! Dis is hyu only varning!"

The barker of the order was a purple-skinned man-like being with a lot of shaggy hair on his head and face, dressed in a military uniform adorned with a symbol showing a winged castle. His teeth were sharp, and his expression belligerent. A Jägermonster. One of a number of beings like technicolour werewolves with a little more intelligence and civility, though not by much. Creations of the Heterodynes, if Harry recalled correctly.

Following the Jäger were a number of Clanks with the same emblem, along with four people, one of whom said in a deep, resonant voice, "Thank you, Unit Commander, stand at ease."

"Yah, Herr Baron," the Jäger said.

The man who spoke was tall and powerfully built, with a shock of grey hair and icy eyes, dressed in a black coat, his bearing one of effortless authority. Harry knew from pictures that this was Klaus von Wulfenbach, the dictator of most of Europe in this world. While his hackles rose, he at least noted that the man wasn't arrogant in his authority, but more assured.

Another man, dressed in a suit tailored for four arms, which he possessed, was making notes in a notebook, seemingly the Baron's personal assistant. Trailing behind Klaus was a brown-haired boy about their age, clearly the Baron's son, given the facial features. And scrambling next to the Baron was the rotund and short Dr Beetle, a dark-skinned man with a beard. "Damnation, Klaus, you're too early. I told you…"

"And I told you, Beetle, you've had more than ample time to do this," he said, before looking over at Agatha and Harry, along with the two scientists.

"Ah, this is Dr Silas Merlot, my second-in-command," Beetle said, indicating Merlot, who bowed.

"I read your latest report with considerable interest, Doctor," Wulfenbach said.

Merlot responded, "I am honoured, Herr Baron."

"Dr Hugo Glassvitch, my chief of research," Beetle said, indicating Glassvitch, who greeted the Baron. He then noticed Agatha and Harry. "Ah, and this is Miss Clay, our lab assistant, and…who are you?"

"Sorry about that. I'm Harry Potter, a friend of Agatha's," Harry said, looking grateful that Glassvitch didn't contradict him. "I helped her get here after she was mugged. I then helped her clean up a little. Sorry about intruding."

Beetle peered at him suspiciously, before noting the locket, or lack thereof, on Agatha's neck. "Miss Clay, did those muggers take the locket?!" he yelped.

"Yes, they…there was an electrical anomaly of some sort, and while trying to flee, a couple of soldiers took it!"

Beetle hustled Agatha away. "No, no, this is terrible. Look, you're distraught, my dear, and I want you to go home, have a nice lie down, and I will send for the watch to get your locket as soon as possible…"

"No, wait," Wulfenbach said, approaching. "You saw the event, Miss Clay?"

"Harry and I both did," Agatha said. "We were right there."

"Then I want you both to stay. I have questions about that."

"No, Klaus, she's had a terrible shock! She must be allowed to leave!" Beetle protested.

"Master, please, I am fine!"

Wulfenbach, meanwhile, had started examining the apparatus. "Beetle, your concern for your citizens' well-being does you credit, but Miss Clay appears fine to me, so I would like to get started." He looked at the two doctors. "Why is this not finished? I thought that I had explained the underlying principles succinctly enough."

"I don't know, Herr Baron," Glassvitch said. "Constructing the machine up to a point is perfectly fine, but we hit a block in the process."

Merlot nodded eagerly. "We can't reconcile the final linkages with the rest of the assembly. Bluntly, we just don't know what to do to make it work."

Klaus peered at them, as if trying to discern whether they were lying, before he nodded. "Very well. Gilgamesh? Can you work out the problems with this apparatus tonight?"

The brown-haired boy walked over, and peered at it. "I can certainly try, father, but could you explain the theory first?"

As Klaus explained things to his son, Merlot and Glassvitch looked on, the latter muttering despondently, "We're doomed. We haven't managed to finish anything."

"Idiot," Merlot snapped irritably. "We don't have the Spark, and the Baron knows this. It's a test, and not for us. It's for the boy. He's the only heir the Baron has, and I've heard rumours that he's being tested to determine how brightly the Spark burns in him. If it doesn't burn as brightly as it does in his father…"

"Den he vill break him down for parts and try again!" chortled the Jäger.

Harry, who was standing next to Agatha, noticed that she was humming again. He gently led her away from the irritable Merlot, and so witnessed what happened next, with Gilgamesh struggling to make sense of the machine, before he seemed to undergo a nervous breakdown, screaming angrily, "THIS IS LUDICROUS! WHAT ARE YOU FOOLS TRYING TO ACCOMPLISH?! CAN'T YOU SEE WHAT YOU'VE DONE?! THIS IS ALL WRONG! EVEN A FIRST YEAR STUDENT WOULD DO BETTER! THE VARYING FORCES ARE TRYING TO CANCEL EACH OTHER OUT! WHERE ARE YOUR PLANS?!"

Merlot wheeled on Agatha. "Miss Clay, they were on the board! Where are they?!"

Agatha and Harry looked at each other, only for Agatha to pull open a drawer and remove a blueprint. Gilgamesh hurried over, only to trip and fall to the ground, hitting his head. "Master Gilgamesh!" the four-armed man yelped.

Harry helped the brown-haired boy up, even as the Clank aimed a machine gun at him. "HOLD," it intoned.

"Piss off, I'm helping," Harry said, before casting some healing spells discreetly.

Klaus stormed over. "Be careful of how you treat my son and heir, Mr Potter."

"No, father, it's fine," Gilgamesh said, getting to his feet, before nodding to Harry. "Thanks. Anyway, I think I needed that. It's cleared my head. The underlying theory for this Dihoxulator is incorrect."

"What?" the Baron demanded in a quiet, cold tone.

"Yes. What you want is possible, but the theoretical structure is badly flawed. This machine will never work."

His tone downright cryogenic, the Baron asked, "Think very carefully, boy. Are you saying that I am wrong?!"

Harry seemed about to jump to Gilgamesh's defence, only for the boy himself to say, quietly, "Yes."

Klaus considered it, before giving a knowing smile. "And you are correct, my son."

As the scientists yelped in dismay and incredulity, Gilgamesh snapped, "Another test, father? I'm beginning to find this tiresome."

"Much like raising children is," Klaus said with a knowing tone. "But I persevere for now. Thank you, doctors, for your time and effort. You will receive new assignments tomorrow."

"They worked so hard!" Agatha protested.

"We toiled on this for three months for nothing?!" Glassvitch demanded.

Merlot, however, his anger was considerably colder. "…Now I understand. Now I understand why the great Dr Beetle couldn't be bothered to work on such an important assignment. We were mere mortals, without the Spark, and he had real work to do."

"Merlot, mind your tongue! I don't like your attitude!" Beetle said, ambling over.

Merlot slapped Beetle hard. "How d'you like this?!"

Klaus, who was next to Agatha and Gilgamesh, said, quietly, to the Jäger, "Don't do anything." Then, to his son, he said, quietly, "Gil? Consider this an important lesson on employee relations."

"In other words, don't dick them around?" Harry asked.

The faintest of sardonic smirks touched Klaus' features. "In less crude terms, yes."

Harry watched as Merlot ranted and raved at Beetle, before getting a nasty grin on his face. "Does he know that his trusted old mentor has defied his strictest instructions with his latest experiments? Conducted in the middle of a civilian town, I should add? Well, maybe I should show him the truly important work you've been doing!" And despite Beetle's protests, Merlot yanked down on a lever, part of the wall moving aside to reveal…something out of a nightmare.

It looked like a glass orb, surrounded by other apparatuses. And within the orb, something stirred within a womb of liquid. It was hard to tell what it was, though Harry could see insectoid limbs, strange eyes, and bizarre, malevolent faces glinting within the dark green fluid.

"What the bloody hell is that?!" Harry whispered in horror.

"Slaver Wasps," Merlot sneered. "Two weeks ago, we found a fully-functional, unhatched Hive Engine, and Dr Beetle insisted on bringing it here! Now, Master, let's see how you use your superior mind to get out of this!"

"What the fuck are Slaver Wasps?!" Harry demanded.

The others looked at him in puzzlement. "Where've you been?" Gilgamesh asked. "These are Constructs, created by The Other! They turn people into Revenants, mindless slaves to The Other's will!"

"You what? These things control people?" Harry demanded.

"Yes," Klaus said. "Now, hush. I have someone to deal with. Dr Beetle, I had one rule I made you adhere to when I left you control of this city. Report all unusual discoveries, and any devices created by The Other are to be handed over as soon as they are found, and you agreed."

"Under duress! And a leonine contract is worthless! You threatened my city and my university, so I had to agree. You were in control then. Well, no more."

The roof of the lab was peeled open, and a massive Clank that Harry recognised as Mr Tock, the guard to the university, pointed a massive gun at them. "DO NOT MOVE," it boomed.

"Now I am in control!" Beetle laughed. "Well? What do you think of that?!"

Klaus and Gilgamesh's expressions, oddly enough, were rather casual. "Gil, what DO you think of that?"

"Another test?"

"Not exactly. He's deadly serious, but I'm curious about your thoughts."

"Well, he thinks we're in a standoff. If he kills us, our Clanks will kill him. If we attack him, his Clank will kill us…"

"Lemme guess, you have an ace up your sleeve?" Harry said. As the Wulfenbachs and Beetle stared at him, Harry snarked, "Oh, come on, it's obvious given your rather casual attitudes. Just try not to blow up Mr Tock too much, he's nice for a Clank."

"I'm sorry, Mr Potter, but I can't do that," Klaus said, somewhat apologetically, before Tock was hit by a blast from an airship, one of many that now filled the skies above Beetleburg. "The Third Airborne, the Seventh Groundnaut Mechanical, and the Jägermonsters. We brought them here."

Beetle called out for his Clank guards, only for the Wulfenbach Clanks to shoot them. "Older Clanks, Beetle. They may have been state-of-the-art before, but technology marches on with time, and you were left behind. Soon, this city will be secure."

"This is an invasion?!" Beetle demanded.

"This became my city years ago, Beetle. I merely allowed you to administer it."

"But why take it from me now?!"

"A Hive Engine isn't reason enough?" Klaus asked icily. "I've known for some time, even before Merlot's conniption. A field team suddenly has a suspicious communications breakdown, followed by equally suspicious industrial accidents. Your laboratory schedules are changed. The chemical requisitions, and the dramatic spike in honey prices here…" Klaus actually looked saddened. "I wished I was wrong, old friend. I truly did."

"Herr Baron, please," Agatha plead. "Don't kill him."

"I'm not. Where do you get these ideas?" Klaus asked. "Beetle, your people's loyalty, for the most part, is admirable. I have no intention of killing you. In fact, I have use for you…"

"No!" Beetle snarled, unclipping a scarab emblem that adorned his clothes. "I'll never submit to that! You won't get me, or any of us!" With that, he flung the scarab, which turned into a small Clank, at Gilgamesh…or maybe Agatha.

Gilgamesh snatched a wrench from the nearby bench, and swatted it back at Beetle, before pulling Harry and Agatha down to the ground. An explosion rocked the lab, and when the dust cleared, all that was left of Beetle was a charred corpse. Harry and Agatha stared at the charred corpse, with Klaus, after checking that his people and his son were fine, stormed over to the corpse and scowled. " _Gotterdämmerung!_ " he snarled. "His head's totally destroyed. He's dead, and permanently!" He glared at Gilgamesh, as did Agatha.

"Murderer," Agatha hissed.

"Agatha, he was trying to kill us! That thing nearly killed us along with him!" Harry said. Agatha shot him a brief glare.

"He threw a bomb at me!" Gilgamesh protested.

"A poor excuse, that," Klaus said.

"Poor excuse?!" Gilgamesh demanded.

"Vell, I von't say he vas shtupid," the Jäger remarked with a smirk, looking at the ruined body, "but I hain't find' a whole lot of brains around here!"

The four-armed man, whom Klaus called 'Boris', asked, "Can we please leave, Herr Baron? This mess is making my feet stick to the floor."

Agatha tensed, before she roared, "HOW DARE YOU! YOU MURDERED ONE OF THE GREATEST SCIENTISTS IN EUROPE, AND NOW YOU'RE TREATING IT LIKE A KITCHEN ACCIDENT?! THE PEOPLE OF THIS CITY LOVED HIM, AND WHEN THEY FIND OUT HOW YOU…GAAAAH!" She screamed, clutching her head in pain, and Harry gently led her away.

"Forgive her, Herr Baron, but she gets like this when upset," Glassvitch said apologetically.

Klaus sniffed. "Pathetic."

"She has a point, Father," Gilgamesh said.

"Well, the populace could be a problem," Klaus mused.

"Not exactly, Herr Baron," Merlot spoke up, looking to curry favour with him. "Very few people actually saw him on a regular…" But then, he saw Klaus glaring at him, before the tall man gripped him by the shirt and lifted him into the air.

"I despise traitors of all stripes, and you did not expose Beetle's experiments with that Hive Engine out of altruism. His death was your fault, and without your little temper tantrum, I might have salvaged him. I am very annoyed indeed. You want to be rewarded for your treachery? Then you're in charge now. You'll oversee the city, the college, the lands… ** _everything_**. And just so we're clear on how much trouble you are in, the first mistake you make will see you sent to Castle Heterodyne."

Merlot gaped in fear. "No! But all I wanted…"

"Is irrelevant," Klaus said coldly. "Now, what I want is Dr Beetle lying in state, for viewing, by midnight. With a hero's funeral to be held the day after tomorrow."

Merlot, after a moment, turned on Agatha. "Well, I know one important thing I'm going to do today. Miss Clay, you're hereby banned from this university in perpetuity. Leave, and take that grubby little boyfriend of yours with you!"

Harry stormed over, and slugged him, knowing using magic would cause too much interest in him, absence of the Statute or not. As Merlot tumbled to the ground, Harry said, "Fuck off and die, you Snape lookalike! You don't have the authority!"

"I do now! And I want your arrest for assaulting the head of the university! I'M IN CHARGE NOW!"

"Merlot," Klaus said warningly. "I am not pleased with your petty display of power." He looked over at Harry and Agatha, his expression softening slightly. "I will arrange a Jägermonster escort for you two. The streets may not be safe, and my Clanks will be keeping people off the streets."

Harry and Agatha reluctantly nodded, and allowed themselves to be taken away, hoping that this wasn't going to change things for the worse…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Well, it pretty much is. And Harry is going to have words with Adam and Lilith when they start giving Agatha the old secrecy thing…oh, and he's starting to get angsty over what happened to his friends, or what he thinks happened…**

 **1\. When** ** _Girl Genius_** **is set roughly is a matter of contention, but fan analysis seems to indicate it starting around 1894.**

 **2\. This is the term I invented for GLaDOS to use for magic in my** ** _Portal_** **crossover** ** _Is Your Great-Aunt an AI?!_** **and its sequel,** ** _Just How Can a Computer Do Magic?!_** **The acronym sums up GLaDOS' thoughts on magic…and I'm sure Agatha's too.**


	113. Under the Light of the (original) Chap 2

**Well, sorry to keep you guys waiting for the second chapter of _Under the Light of the Shattered Moon_. But before I go any further, I'd like to announce a couple of things. If you haven't noticed, I have posted the first three chapters of _Girl Genius' Animagus_ as a full story, with a further four chapters already completed, ready to be posted. The fourth chapter will be posted a short while from now.**

 **Secondly, I am currently working on an _Overlord_ crossover. Not the video game series, but the light novels/anime, though, like _Kakistocracy_ , I am transplanting the characters from the Tomb of Nazarick (with modifications) to the Potterverse, sans Momonga and the trappings of _Overlord_ 's fantasy world or the MMORPG Yggdrassil. The working title is _Yield to the Darkness_. A sample chapter may be ready for tomorrow.**

 **Now, finally, back to this story. You'll notice a lot of _Red vs Blue_ references. Besides the fact that _RWBY_ was produced by the same company, I found it easy to use the characters from _Red vs Blue_ as OCs for this. Most of them will be members of Talon or affiliates, though I have plans for Caboose to be one of Roman's more incompetent (but adorable) henchmen (hmm, maybe ship him with Neopolitan?). **

**Oh, and I decided partway through writing this that it would be a threeway pairing between Harry, Blake, and Ilia. Ilia, for those who haven't watched the fourth season of _RWBY_ , is a chameleon Faunus working with White Fang, at least in canon (and that's not really a spoiler). Out of idle curiosity, I had watched a trailer for the fifth series, the Blake character trailer, where Blake and Ilia discuss Ilia's past. I found Ilia rather endearing, despite the violent end of her anecdote and her later becoming an enemy of Blake, so I wanted to include her from the beginning as part of Talon in this story rather than White Fang. The decision to make her part of a threeway pairing was a later one.**

 **Anyway, I do want to do this as a full story, but you guys will have to wait until I watch more of _RWBY_ , so I can get a better feel for it. Hope you enjoy...**

* * *

 _ **UNDER THE LIGHT OF THE SHATTERED MOON (ORIGINAL)  
**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **ARRIVAL AT BEACON**

As he passed the blonde puking into the bin at the airship dock, Harry said, "Next time, get a ginger pill or something, mate." He had discreetly cast a Scourgify on his shoes, grateful that his father had taught him that much.

The boy moaned weakly, but nodded. "And he's a wannabe Huntsman?" Ilia asked as they followed Ruby and Yang.

"Hey, maybe he just gets motion sickness easily," Harry said with a shrug, before watching Ruby fangirl out at all the weapons on display. "What do you reckon about Little Miss Weaponmeister there?"

"Well, you said her skills were good. She just needs more experience in how to handle herself in a fight," Ilia said. "I did some digging before we came here. Her mother is Summer Rose, a hunter of some renown. I guess she's following in her mother's footsteps. I'm guessing she was taught how to wield that scythe by Qrow Branwen. He's an instructor at Signal who's known for using a scythe, one of the few who does."

Suddenly, Yang saw some friends, and went off with them, leaving Ruby alone, until she saw the three Faunus approach. "Oh, hey!" she said, smiling. "You guys want to hang out?"

"You sure you want to hang out with Faunus?" Ilia asked.

Ruby shrugged. "I don't care, as long as you're not bad guys. I like your ears, Harry, and your ears, Blake. I wish I had ears like yours. But what sort of Faunus are you, Ilia?"

"Chameleon," Ilia said, her skin shifting to different colours. Normally, she looked like a brown-haired, blue-eyed girl with spots that could pass for freckles or birthmarks on her skin. In fact, her parents sent her to Atlas Academy because they knew she could pass for human as long as she didn't show her ability to change colour.

"Cool! Can you be all, like, stealthy and stuff?" Ruby asked.

"She changes colour based on mood," Blake said quietly. "It's not exactly camouflage, Ruby, though Ilia can use it to help hide."

Ilia nodded. "Though I'm glad you like it, Ruby. Not many people do. When my parents died in a collapse at a Dust mine, some people mocked them, not knowing I was a Faunus. In my grief, I turned blue…and they mocked me when they got over their fear." She didn't mention that this was at Atlas Academy. "I broke their teeth."

Ruby winced, before asking, solemnly, "A Schnee Dust mine?"

"Yeah."

"I heard a bit on the news about you guys going around exposing their dirty laundry," Ruby said. "I don't get why they do that to Faunus. I mean, you're people too, right?"

"Not according to some people," Blake muttered. She looked at Harry. "Do you mind if I have a wander before the opening ceremony?"

"Sure."

As Blake walked off, Ruby frowned. "Where's she going?"

"Blake likes peace and quiet every now and then," Harry explained. "Sometimes, all she wants is a nice quiet corner to read a book in, or a peaceful walk. I know my girlfriend long enough to know when she gets this way, and I just let her be."

"Wait, wait, you two are girlfriend and boyfriend?" Ruby asked.

Ilia chuckled, though she wasn't yet about to reveal that she was Harry's girlfriend and lover as well. "Yep. Blake's pretty lucky to have Harry. Her first boyfriend…was not the nicest person."

Harry scowled at the reminder. "Bastard murdered my father," he said quietly.

Ruby, understandably, looked shocked. "Because you dated her?"

"Amongst other reasons," Harry said bitterly. "Let's put it this way, Ruby. Pray you never meet Adam Taurus. It's people like him that was the reason we broke away from White Fang, and he wouldn't hesitate to torture anyone he thought we cared about just to hurt us. Plus, he's VERY skilled."

"Hey, Harry, don't scare her," Ilia said. "I'm not sure she realises that not all monsters look like the Grimm."

Before they could get into any further discussion, the blonde boy with the motion sickness issues wandered up. "Hey, I'm Jaune."

"Ruby," Ruby replied, before remarking, with a distinct lack of tact, "Aren't you the guy who barfed on the ship?"

* * *

Harry found himself wandering with Ilia, following Jaune and Ruby as they discussed their weapons. Like Ruby and Yang, Jaune didn't seem to have any issues with Faunus, only White Fang. Harry did have to wonder how someone like him got into Beacon, though. Coasting on the Arc family's reputation, maybe, as the Arcs did have at least one famous ancestor, to his knowledge. Oh, he seemed earnest enough, beneath the nervousness and awkwardness.

That being said, Harry and Ilia had to escort the two back to the auditorium when the time came for the opening ceremony. Blake joined them soon after. "Enjoy your walk, Blake?" Harry asked.

The cat-eared girl nodded. "Is this a new friend?"

"Well, as I told these guys, my mother told me that strangers are just friends you haven't met yet," Jaune said. "I'm Jaune Arc."

"Blake Belladonna," she replied courteously.

They reached the auditorium by that time, and Ruby was called over by Yang. Ruby made her excuses and scurried off, while Jaune, after a moment, wandered off despondently. Ilia frowned as she looked around, and noticed a red-haired girl with green eyes, wearing vaguely Grecian armour. "Huh. Looks like we have a celebrity. That's Pyrrha Nikos."

"The one who's on the cereal boxes? The one who won the Mistral Regional Tournament four times in a row?" Harry asked. "Huh. People are going to be queuing up to be her teammate, I'm sure."

"She looks pretty subdued for a celebrity," Blake observed.

They waited, until finally, at a lectern at the other end of the auditorium, Ozpin appeared, clearing his throat to get their attention. "I'll keep this brief. You have journeyed here today in search of knowledge, to hone your craft and acquire new skills, and at the end of that, you intend to dedicate your life to protecting people. But I gaze amongst you all, and what I see is wasted energy that requires purpose and direction. You believe that knowledge will set you free of such problems, but your time here at Beacon will show you that knowledge will only take you so far. Taking the first step is up to you." Throughout it, his voice was calm, but also somewhat flat.

"Okay, I've heard better motivational speeches from _Adam_ ," Harry muttered, _sotto voce_ , as Ozpin walked away and Goodwitch made her announcements.

"Yeah. I mean, I get what he's saying, and being a Hunter is no picnic, but you'd think he'd try and get you motivated, not depressed," Ilia said.

"I'm motivated," Blake said, completely deadpan. "Yay. Woo."

* * *

The students were to sleep together in the hall _en masse_ , like some big slumber part. Harry and Blake were sitting side by side, Blake reading _The Man with Two Souls_. Ilia had gone to her new quarters. "I really hope we're on the same team," Harry said quietly. "We've worked together for so long…though Oum knows how the team assignments are made."

"I hope we are too. What's your thoughts on the Arc boy?"

"In over his head. He might be competent, but becoming Hunters is not for the faint-hearted or weak. He's going to either sink or swim. That being said, I really hope we're not on the same team as that wanker over there."

Blake noticed his glare at a tall boy with reddish-brown hair. The boy noticed his scrutiny, and sneered, and mouthed _Filthy animals_ at them. Blake sighed, and muttered, "I wish you hadn't talked me out of wearing the bow."

"Blake, I love you the way you are." He gently stroked one of her ears, and she closed her eyes and smiled, all but purring from his gentle ministrations. "At least the others we met don't give a damn. Ruby, Yang, Jaune…they're some of the nicest humans we've met."

"Well, you said you were human once, remember? Before you came to this world with your father?"

"And? Even then, Dad was ostracised for being a werewolf, and me for being his son, not to mention not being the Boy Who Lived," Harry muttered bitterly. "I'm glad I came to Remnant, even if I thought I was going to die. I'm glad I met you, Blake. And that's before we bring Ilia and the others into the equation."

"I'm glad I met you too, Harry," Blake said quietly. Then, an impish smirk touched her lips. "You do know that we'll be sleeping in dorms, with our teammates? So we won't have much privacy for…you know."

"That's what the trunk is for, remember? They won't be able to complain about the noise we make if we go in there," Harry said with an equally impish smirk. "We can even get Ilia in on it if we're discreet."

The two shared a soft chuckle at the thought, and sat there, sharing each other's company, while waiting for sleep to finally claim them…

* * *

 _His father was bisected, his blood and offal spilling into a gory puddle on the floor. He stared in horror at the sight, before he returned his gaze to where his father's murderer had managed to knock Blake down. His mask had been knocked off, revealing icy green eyes(_ _1)_ _, not the emerald he had, but cold. Red hair and a pair of horns grew from his head. His face was handsome, but twisted into ugliness by cruelty. Adam Taurus._

 _He had been knocked out by Adam's initial attack, and had recovered in time to see the last stages of the fight. "Now, don't move, Blake. I want you to see why it was a mistake to make me hurt you."_

 _He glared at Adam, before he snarled, "I'm not going down without a fight. You murdered my father."_

 _"You brought it upon yourself when you stole Blake from me," Adam sneered. "And you're no match for me. You're no wolf, just a dog, a mongrel content to be under the humans for your life! Putting you down is a favour!"_

 _He felt his anger surge at Adam's words, before he clenched his fist, fire beginning to burn around it. He had only seen his father use this once, trying to drive off a Nevermore attacking one of the settlements they visited. "I am a wolf, and you are prey, Bully Boy. AND YOU WILL BURN IN HELL FOR WHAT YOU DID TO MY FATHER!" With that, he flung out his hand, and unleashed Fiendfyre._

 _Adam, rather cockily, brought up his sword, Wilt, ready to absorb the cursed flames. For a moment, it looked like it was working, and he would have enough power to unleash his Semblance, Moonslice. But then, Wilt began to melt, and then, it shattered. Adam had barely enough time to dodge when the Fiendfyre continued…but it was too late. The diabolical fire still burned the right side of his face, and he screamed in agony._

 _Harry, however, had set the house ablaze in his fury. Blake dashed over to grab him, before leaping out of the nearest window. They ran off into the night, hoping that the Fiendfyre would make a funeral pyre for not just Remus Lupin, but also Adam Taurus. Unfortunately, they wouldn't be so lucky…_

* * *

Those events weren't far from Ilia's mind (she had heard about it from Harry and Blake afterwards) as she walked with Ozpin and Glynda to the cliff where the initiation was to begin. While she had to admit to being a little irritated that she wasn't an active member of Talon at the moment, just being linked to Beacon would help raise their profile. And she was still able to head to Vale to do the patrols like they used to. Plus, it meant staying close to her lovers.

Ozpin had found her old files from the Atlas Academy, and despite it describing the circumstances of her desertion, he was…well, he didn't show pity towards her. Not in a condescending way, anyway. Instead, he showed her sympathy, and told her, bluntly, that none of his staff, to his knowledge, harboured any anti-Faunus sentiment, save towards the White Fang as it was now. Students were potentially another matter, but as many of his students were Faunus, he expected everyone to be on their best behaviour, though he admitted he couldn't control how people thought.

Bringing herself out of her reverie, they came to the cliff edge, and Ilia frowned as she looked out across the vast forested area. "Let me guess, the forest is filled with Grimm?"

"Yes," Ozpin said. "Your friends can handle it, I'm sure."

"It's not them I'm worried about," Ilia muttered. "Hell, we even had something like this back in Atlas. It's the others I'm worried about. That's one thing about training in White Fang, and Talon. It's at least as good, if not better, than anything Signal or the like could do. Though I have to ask, Professor Ozpin, why did you allow Ruby Rose to join early? Was it her mother? Her skill?"

"Something like that, though don't mistake my decision for having nepotistic reasons," Ozpin said. "She has the silver eyes of her mother."

 _Silver eyes?_ Ilia wondered. _What does that have to do with anything?_

As if hearing her thoughts, Ozpin said, "Those born with silver eyes are destined to become warriors, feared by the Grimm, so the legends say. Ruby certainly has the skills to pass this. What she needs is refinement and tempering. As do they all."

"Even so, White Fang's attacks aside, we're living in a period of relative peace," Ilia pointed out.

"One lesson that can be taken from history, Ilia, is that peace is ephemeral and fragile. A storm is coming, and we need to weather it."

Before Ilia could remark on how fucking ominous that sounded (and she had to admit, Ozpin had a point), the students began arriving. Harry was holding forth in a discussion with an orange-haired girl who seemed overly excited for some reason. "…I'm saying is, Grif's a sloth Faunus, and if you made that noise in front of him, he'd wonder what you were smoking, and whether he could share it(2)."

Ilia snorted. Grif WAS infamously lazy, though he was also a pretty smart guy, and a great driver. He usually did surveillance work for Talon along with a beaver Faunus called Simmons(3), as well as writing their more interesting insults for vandalising Schnee Dust Company property.

As the students stood on the catapult platforms they were directed to, Ozpin said, "For years, you've been training as warriors. Today, that training will be put to the test here in the Emerald Forest."

Glynda nodded, and added, "Let me put the rumours of how we pick teams to rest. You will be given teammates today."

"Those teammates will be your comrades throughout your time here," Ozpin continued, "so it is in your best interest to be paired with someone you would work well with. That being said, after landing, the first person you make eye contact with will be your partner for the next four years."

"WHAT?!" Ruby yelped.

Ilia noted, with some amusement, that Harry was glaring at Ozpin. "You're a bloody troll, Ozpin. In the unlikely event that I die giving some Nevermore indigestion, I thought you should know that."

A wave of laughter, some of it strained, swept the line of students. Even Ozpin chuckled, before his expression became solemn once more. "After you've partnered up, head to the northern end of the forest. You will meet opposition along the way, opposition that you must strike down, or else you will die." As Jaune, and a couple of others, got more nervous at that, Ozpin continued, "You will be monitored and graded throughout by the instructors here, but they will not interfere. There's an abandoned temple at the end of the path with relics. Each pair must choose one, and then return to the top of the cliff. We will regard that item, and your standing, and grade you appropriately. Any questions?" Jaune put his hand up, only for Ozpin to say, "Good! Now, take your positions."

"Again, you're a bloody troll, Ozpin," Harry muttered, only to be nudged by Blake.

"Um, sir, what about, well, landing?" Jaune asked as the catapult platforms began to be activated. "Are you dropping us off?"

"No. You'll be falling. And no parachutes. Students have to figure out their own landing strategy."

Blake got launched into the air, and Harry, after waving his hand at Jaune, looked askance at Ozpin. "Has anyone told you you're a bloody TROLLLLLLL?!" Harry yelled, just as he was launched into the air.

As Jaune soon followed, Ozpin took a sip of his hot chocolate, and remarked to Ilia and Glynda, "It has been noted…"

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Seriously, Ozpin is a troll.**

 **1\. I thought about what colour eyes to give Adam, as he doesn't yet have a canonical eye colour, what with the mask. I decided on green, to compare and contrast with Harry, as well as mark his envy and jealousy towards Harry and Blake.**

 **2\. This came about when I posted the first chapter in** ** _The Cauldron_** **, and one reviewer, solitaire, suggested I make Grif a sloth Faunus, and make a link to Nora's 'sloth noise'.**

 **3\. Why a beaver? Well, Simmons is a noted sycophant, and while you could call him a 'toady', I decided to make him a beaver. As in an 'eager beaver'.**


	114. Yield to the Darkness Chapter 1

**Before I go on, this has officially become my most-reviewed work by a wide margin. Also, I'm hoping to continue with _Under the Light of the Shattered Moon_ soon, and hopefully turn it into a full story, considering the feedback I've gotten. Just need to watch more of _RWBY_.**

 **Anyway, here's the crossover with _Overlord_ I promised (based on the light novels/anime, rather than the unrelated game series). It's based, somewhat roughly, on DZ2's challenges 'The Potter Race' and 'Evil Never Dies'. And like my _Homestuck_ crossover _Kakistocracy_ , it doesn't deal with the canon story of _Overlord_. Instead, the characters and some concepts are transplanted into the Potterverse. So, while Albedo, Shalltear, and others will appear (though Albedo and Shalltear will be about the same age as Harry, given that I'm pairing them with him, and Shalltear can age, to reduce the squick), Momonga will not. Ainz Ooal Gown will be a title rather than a character. That being said, elements will still be integrated into the backstory.**

 **Albedo and Shalltear may be somewhat OOC, but given the different backstory (and the lack of diddling with her backstory that Momonga/Ainz did in canon), I think this is understandable. They're also less sycophantic, given that they need to shape Harry into the leader they need. But they are still devoted to Harry.**

 **Oh, and fair warning before you begin reading: this is easily one of the darkest and most horrific beginnings I've ever written for a fanfic. No, seriously. And while it will get better for Harry and his allies, for the rest of Magical Britain, well, it WILL get worse. If this does get published as a full story, this will be easily one of my darkest works, though to be fair, it's because of Harry turning into a dark lord with a bunch of monsters at his command. Not actually evil, but certainly ruthless and misanthropic. And while there will be some humour to break things up, it's nowhere near as much as _On the Delights of Drinking Blood_.**

 **So, yeah. Continue reading at your own risk...**

* * *

 _ **YIELD TO THE DARKNESS**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **THE HEIR OF AINZ OOAL GOWN**

A pained gurgle came from his mouth. He was used to pain, true, but this was even worse than almost anything he had undergone before. Well, it was the worst he had to deal with from Muggles, he had to think. Everything else was either magical, or came from a magical creature.

His threat towards his uncle of siccing his godfather on him backfired, badly. Vernon had one hell of a grudge building up after what Harry did to his vile sister, and Vernon had just sneered at Harry's threat, beaten the ever-loving shit out of him, and then hurled him into his room. Harry wasn't any medical doctor, but he was sure that whatever his uncle did to him, he needed to get to a hospital fast. His right arm and left leg were broken, along with a few of his ribs (and the blood he was coughing up was not healthy by any stretch of the imagination) and his jaw, he was pretty sure he had lost sight in one of his eyes thanks to shards of glass going into it, and, oh joy, he was pissing himself, and he now wasn't sure what warm liquid was blood and what one was urine.

Well, this was it, was it? Irony abounded. He wasn't going to die at the hands of Voldemort, or a Basilisk, or an Acromantula, or a werewolf, or a Dementor. No, he was going to die because that fat fuck he was forced to call an uncle decided to beat the shit out of him. And was that a shovel he could hear being used in the backyard? Huh. Must've been the first time Vernon dug a hole ever since he had Harry to use as his slave.

How had they been able to get away with this? Those were Harry's thoughts as they spiralled into greyness from blood loss and concussion. Time and time again, he had raised the issue with the authorities, first in this part of society, and then amongst the magicals. Nothing ever changed, and Dumbledore sent him back here, thrice now, with a pat on the back, a cheery wave, and a ' _they can't possibly be as bad as you say_ '. Hell, he nearly got his godfather back, only for him to be forced to go on the run. He would have given anything to be with him.

But no. He hated most people, Muggle or mage. Most of those magical fools seemed willing to believe that Sirius had been a murderer, or that Harry was evil because he was a Parselmouth. And nobody in authority would ever believe him that he was being wronged by the Dursleys. It was a surprise to realise this, but he was a true misanthrope, with only certain exceptions. He hated his fame, and how people saw him because of it. He hated how he had Voldemort after him, and yet Dumbledore wouldn't tell him why. He hated how Snape was allowed to get away with what he did scot-free. And he hated being powerless while the world used him as its punching bag.

There was a distant screeching, a screeching he recognised as Hedwig's. He tried to get up, but couldn't. He could only hear as Vernon roared, and began…oh. Well, it sounded like Hedwig was being battered to death by Vernon and his shovel. A warm trickle of tears joined the puddle on the floor, especially when he heard Vernon mutter, "Ruddy bird…the freak will join you soon…"

Before anything further could eventuate, Harry heard knocking on the door. He heard Petunia answer it, only to scream, "GO AWAY!" But when she slammed the door, he heard an explosion.

Then, he heard the voice of a girl, maybe his age or younger, cheerfully say, "How rude. Don't you know how to treat guests?" Then, a pause, and then, the same girl said, her voice filled with menace, "Albedo…I can smell blood… _his_ blood. Fresh blood, too."

"I see," came the voice of a more mature girl. "…Mare, with me. Shalltear, I will leave you to clean up the…rubbish. As much as I'd love to myself, our lord is in danger, and his blood may cause you to…"

"It won't, but it would be my greatest pleasure to deal with these worms who dared to lay a finger on our lord," the other girl said.

Inhuman snarls and screams came from downstairs, but Harry found himself not actually caring that much. Though what was that 'my lord' business? They couldn't have been talking about him, could they? Hmm, maybe the blood loss was causing him to hallucinate a rescue. Yes…yes, that was it…

The door to his room burst open, and as his sight began to be eaten by darkness, he saw a figure in white appear…a figure with black wings, peering down at him with golden eyes.

 _Is that an angel?_ He thought muzzily. Then, he saw the horns. _Or maybe it's a devil, come to drag me down to Hell…_ Then, he fell into oblivion, perhaps never to surface again…

* * *

The first thing that he realised upon waking up was that, well, he was surprised to even BE waking up at all. The second thing he realised was that he was in considerable pain, though not as much as he was in earlier. The third thing he realised was that he could hear a very familiar voice…and it sounded like Hermione.

"…Just as well that Shalltear dealt with them," Hermione was saying. "My parents and I have lived amongst humans, Albedo, and I have seen them at their best and worst. But given what they did to Harry, I would have…"

"Yes, I know, Hermione," said the voice of Albedo. "It is fortuitous that we did this now, or else we may not have a lord and master any longer."

Wait, what?

"How are Black and Lupin fitting in?" Hermione asked.

"Surprisingly well. Black is fine, for a human, though he has been flirting with the Pleiades rather more than is healthy…for him. Lupin seems to be attached to Aura and Mare. I believe his guilt at not trying to look after our lord and master has driven him to that. He has no pride as a werewolf and little more as a human, but with time, perhaps he will change that."

As Harry opened his eyes, and saw a brief glimpse of Hermione's bushy tresses before he screwed his eyes shut with pain, hissing quietly, he heard Hermione say, "Oh, he's waking up. Harry…can you speak?"

"Hermione…" Harry rasped.

"Take it easy, Harry. They managed to get you just in time," Hermione said soothingly, stroking his cheek gently with her hand.

Harry heard a door open nearby. "Ahh, that's better. Nothing like a warm bath after a bloodbath," came the voice of the girl that Albedo had called Shalltear. "Is he okay?"

"He's conscious, and he's able to speak," Albedo said. "Harry, could you open your eyes and look at us?"

Harry obeyed, and found himself looking at a trio of girls, about his age, fourteen verging on fifteen, surrounding his bed. He recognised Hermione, of course. But the other two…well, one of them he briefly glimpsed when he fell unconscious, and the other he had never seen before.

The first wore an elegant white dress over her beautiful figure, a golden necklace like a cobweb hanging in front of her chest. Her serenely beautiful features were framed by tresses of black hair. But she wasn't human. Her eyes were golden, with slit pupils, like those of a cat or a reptile. A pair of horns curled around her head like a circlet. And a pair of black wings seemed to sprout from her hips.

The second was dressed in elegant, Victorian-style purple dress, complete with a parasol (open, oddly, given that opening an umbrella indoors was bad luck) and bonnet. Pale of skin, with silver hair framing a cute, elegant face, her eyes were blood red, and shone faintly. Where the first girl's smile was serene, this one had something of a smirk.

"Allow us to introduce ourselves, my lord," the dark-haired girl said. "I am Albedo."

"And I am Shalltear Bloodfallen, my lord," the second girl said. She looked at Hermione. "So, are you going to show Harry?"

"In a moment. Sealing my abilities was not my best idea in hindsight," Hermione said. "Otherwise, I could have figured out about the Basilisk sooner."

"You did so to protect yourself and Harry, Hermione, I am sure he would be as forgiving of the oversight as I was," Albedo said.

"You teased me mercilessly, and that's without going into what Shalltear had me do!" Hermione protested.

"Sorry, what?" Harry rasped.

Hermione winced, before she looked over at Harry. "I'm sorry for keeping this from you all this time, Harry. I had to seal almost all that was me to effectively infiltrate Hogwarts. This…is what I really am."

Suddenly, Hermione _changed_ , her body shifting and transforming. Green and brown scales sprouted all over her body like a rapidly-moving rash. Her bushy hair changed into a writhing mass of serpents. Her eyes, once brown, now resembled Albedo's, albeit a darker gold that reminded Harry uncomfortably of the Basilisk he had fought, even though he hadn't actually seen the eyes.

It was still recognisably Hermione. The monster in front of him had all her features. Hell, she was still beautiful, in a monstrous, exotic way. But she was also not human. She was a Gorgon.

As Harry gaped, Hermione gently hugged him. In Parseltongue, she said, " _I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. In fact, I couldn't. My mission was sealed by a spell like the Fidelius. It was for my protection…and yours. So too were my abilities, otherwise, I would have figured out about the Basilisk sooner and protected you! But I tried to do my best. I'm sorry if you hate me for it, but_ …"

" _Hermione_ ," he said, slipping into Parseltongue instinctively, trying to tamp down the feelings of betrayal he felt. " _I just want to know what's going on. And…if you were ever my friend._ "

" _Harry…I understand why you were sceptical. I wasn't sent to become your friend. I was sent to guard you, to help you survive until you achieved your destiny. But after you saved me from that Troll, just before I would have had to reveal myself and risk being put to death, I…it just happened. But if I told you what I really was, others could have found out. Wizards barely tolerate Goblins and Veela, they despise vampires and werewolves, even those who don't attack people, and Gorgons and Succubi…some of the staff at Hogwarts use Legilimency, a form of magical mind-reading, to put it crudely. Even if I told you, they could have discerned it from your mind, and it might have seemed suspicious if I taught you Occlumency, how to shield your mind._ "

"My lord…I mean, Harry," Albedo said. "Hermione is as loyal to you and your cause as Shalltear and myself, if not more so, reluctant as I am to admit that. Her deception was a necessity, one that has now ended. I personally find myself jealous that she was permitted to be in proximity to you all these years, but unlike many sycophants you will find here, I believe her loyalty to you is beyond reproach."

"Wow, did that stick in your craw to admit that?" Shalltear asked snidely.

"He is learning things he has been kept in ignorance of for his own protection, things that will have him questioning everything that has gone around him," Albedo explained with a thin veneer of patience to the other girl. "If we are to serve him well, then we need to ease his transition to assuming the title he deserves."

"Sorry, what are you talking about?" Harry asked, confused.

Hermione looked at Albedo and Shalltear, before she looked back at Harry. "Most of what I'm about to tell you isn't even in the history books, Harry. What is known is that Azkaban was once the fortress of the dark wizard Ekrizdis, known for his dark experiments. He kept Azkaban hidden, Unplottable by magicals and the mundane alike, partly to conceal his dark deeds. Or so the stories say. In truth, Azkaban was already hidden, and he stumbled across it, and usurped it from its rightful rulers. But those Ekrizdis enslaved eventually rose up against him. In his last spiteful act, he managed to reveal the presence of Azkaban to the world, and our ancestors were forced into hiding. Though not before taking Ekrizdis back with them…and ensuring he took a long time to die. He still is, in fact. Dying. Even after nearly six centuries."

Albedo's smile became decidedly predatory. "My clan consider it a rite of passage to think up a suitably novel torture to inflict on him. Considering what he did to my great-grandmother, it is richly deserved."

Great-grandmother…right, so Succubi were long-lived. He really hoped they were about his age.

"Don't feel sorry for him, Harry," Hermione said. "Ekrizdis was as bad, if not more so, as Voldemort or Grindlewald. And what he did to us was unforgivable."

"So, I'm like the Heir of Azkaban or something?" Harry asked. Well, that was just brilliant.

"Not exactly, my lord," Albedo said. "Rather, you are the heir to the legacy Ekrizdis attempted in vain to usurp. We have been waiting a long time for this. You are the heir to the title of Ainz Ooal Gown, and thus our lord and master…"

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Well, that just happened. And that's easily one of the darkest and most horrific beginnings I've ever done to a Potterverse fanfic.**

 **Now, keep in mind that, while the NPCs of the Tomb of Nazarick will be characters here, their ages (at least where Albedo and Shalltear are concerned), natures (I'm having Shalltear age normally until she's an adult to reduce the squick factor, though she's still pretty much a lamprey when she gets her game face on), and some of their personalities will be a little modified. While still considerably misanthropic, Albedo's much less hateful of humans. Still contemptuous, though, save where Harry is concerned…as well as Luna (and to a lesser degree, Sirius and Remus, for reasons we will go into later). The history of the Potterverse version of Ainz Ooal Gown will be elucidated later.**

 **Oh, and the Potterverse characters are a year older than in canon.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	115. Yield to the Darkness Chapter 2

**Well, I'm glad my first foray into _Overlord_ fanfic has been so well-received. Before we get to the next chapter, I'd like to say that this probably won't be my last _Overlord_ fic, published or not. I find _Overlord_ considerably more interesting than _Dot Hack_ or _Sword Art Online_ (please don't flame me, that's just my opinion), and I'm beginning to read the second novel, as well as watch the anime in earnest. Hell, for anyone who cares about these things, I may even include some references to Team Dai-Gurren's Abridged series...well, the single episode they've done so far, but it's already a gold mine of comedy material (like Albedo's...reaction to Momonga's impromptu breast exam, and HIS reaction to that...or Momonga being way more of a dick than in canon). If you're interested, here's the URL, minus the YouTube bit at the start. May offend some, so, use your discretion.**

 **watch?v=vEwFDH3M57g**

 **Anyway, here's the second chapter.**

* * *

 _ **YIELD TO THE DARKNESS**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **LORD OF THE MONSTERS**

Harry's first reaction was, understandably, sheer disbelief and shock. Hermione began to gently caress his cheek again. Harry noted distantly that her hand, while covered in scales, actually felt nice. Warm, and the texture of the scales actually felt interesting. " _It's okay, Harry_ ," she said soothingly in Parseltongue. " _It's okay. You'll be fine._ "

Albedo spoke up next, moving closer. "My lord, I understand this is somewhat confusing and distressing to you. But we would not have accepted you as heir to your legacy if we did not think you capable of assuming it," Albedo said, clasping his hand hand in her own. "Yes, you are young, and we are not fools as to assume the hyperbole of the Boy Who Lived is real…but through Hermione, we have learned of you performing feats well in advance of your age. While the one responsible for protecting you from Voldemort is most likely to be your mother, you yourself have proven yourself to have the potential we need. We need an heir to the legacy of Ainz Ooal Gown, if only because some of us would recognise no other authority."

Harry blinked, before he decided to roll with it, if only because they had rescued him from the Dursleys. "So…what are you exactly, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I am a Succubus, my lord, and Shalltear is…a lamprey."

"A True Vampire, actually," Shalltear said haughtily, shooting an annoyed glare at Albedo. "One born and bred of the Bloodfallen line. After I reach adulthood, I will live forever young! Of course, so will our lord and any who has his favour, once some pesky pests are dealt with. Ah, the thought of laying waste to my lord's enemies arouses me."

"We know," Albedo remarked. "A lot of things arouse you. If there is a god in existence, then I wonder what was going through his mind when he created you."

* * *

In another plane of existence, a man who went by the name of Peroroncino sneezed, frowned, and then put the finishing touches on his NPC for his guild in _Yggdrasill_ …

* * *

"Are they always like this?" Harry asked Hermione as Albedo and Shalltear glared at each other.

"Sometimes, they're worse," Hermione said. "Despite it all, they're…friends, I guess. Though they've been better friends since Luna came along."

"Luna?"

"Luna Lovegood," Shalltear said, breaking off her glaring contest with Albedo. "She's a student at Hogwarts. A Ravenclaw, in the year below you. She lives not far away from those redheads of yours. She's somewhat open-minded, perhaps too much. But she's entertaining for a human. Of course, so were those so-called relatives of yours. Though I have to admit, I'll have to avoid fatty foods in future after the walrus and the baby whale."

"We faked evidence of a Death Eater attack, Harry," Hermione said. "We have a very experienced mage, a Dark Elf called Mare Bello Fiore, to tamper with the wards and heal you. He's even more of a scaredy-cat than Neville, but if you want things dead or protected, he's second to none."

"Dark Elf?"

"Yes. He looks like a child and acts like one, but he's actually older than us by decades," Hermione said. "He and his sister, Aura, are amongst the last survivors of the race that wizards warped and turned into House Elves."

"We faked the attack, my lord, as we wished to throw others off the trail," Albedo said. "Few in Magical Britain would view your ascendancy as a good thing."

"Yeah, ascendancy to what? What is this Ainz Ooal Gown thing?"

"I will handle this one, Hermione," Albedo said. "My ancestor, the one I was named for, was the right hand of the original Ainz Ooal Gown. I know you enjoy reading the lore, but it is my responsibility."

"Okay, Albedo. Just remember our agreement: no throwing yourself at him until you know each other better," Hermione said.

Albedo nodded, but her usually serene smile became a smirk. "Well, you have an unfair advantage, Hermione, what with being a schoolfriend…and there's the life debt for saving you from the Troll. I would normally kill you to remove an obstacle…but I actually like you."

"Albedo, if you tried to kill me, you'd have to deal with my parents," Hermione said. "Even Succubi are vulnerable to dentistry without anaesthetic…" She looked at the now-smirking Shalltear, and added, pointedly and with her own sadistic smirk, "…and so are vampires, True or not. There are just more teeth to drill."

Shalltear pouted, while Albedo rolled her eyes. The Succubus looked over to Harry, before saying, "The origins of the title of Ainz Ooal Gown are somewhat obscure, even to their followers. What is known is that, in ancient times, the world was ruled secretly by forty-one wizards and witches, whose descendants eventually fell prey to bitter squabbling and in-fighting. You are aware, for example, that many myths involving gods, like those in Greco-Roman mythology, were actually those of wizards and witches. The Trojan War, for example, was triggered by what was effectively a beauty contest between the three witches that were later known as Aphrodite, Hera, and Athena, judged by that fool Paris. Of those forty-one and their descendants, one stayed out of the fighting. Instead, he began taking in the dispossessed of the magical world, particularly Dark Creatures. Until then, he was known to the Roman mages as _Sciurus_ , or the Squirrel(1), for his supposed timidity and cowardice and tendency to hoard. But we had another name for him, bestowed by the Goblins on the original forty-one. Ainz Ooal Gown is Gobbledegook for Shield of the Shadows(2). It is a title we have bestowed upon our leaders ever since, and used for our organisation in general. Most of the time, they are wizards who have been sympathetic to our cause, but sometimes, one of our people have risen to attain the role…or else act as a steward. Our base is the Tomb of Nazarick, the tomb of one of our former leaders, which is based deep within the island of Azkaban…which, incidentally, is where we are now."

"I…see. So, this isn't one of these 'conquering the world' deals?" Harry asked.

"As much as I'd love to see the world ground beneath your feet, my lord, and I would gladly support your ambitions if they ran in that direction, our ambitions at present are more about survival and protection of our kind from the humans, magical or mundane, who would make every effort to wipe us out. The world has changed, and not for the better. Unlike the majority of magicals, we are considerably more aware of the dangers, and benefits, of mundane technology."

"Seriously, according to Hermione, the so-called expert in the Ministry doesn't know what a rubber duck is for," Shalltear said with a roll of her eyes. "It's a _toy!_ I'd bet if you asked him what a nuclear bomb was, he'd look at you blankly. And they called a gun a type of metal wand Muggles use to kill each other in _The Daily Prophet_ while Black was a fugitive. Whereas we've managed to make TV and videos work here. Albedo can't get enough of serial killer thrillers, post-apocalyptic movies, and period dramas." In a stage whisper, as if saying something in confidence to Harry, despite it being clearly audible, she hissed, " _She_ _ **loves**_ _Jane Austen._ "

Albedo cleared her throat pointedly, looking somewhat embarrassed. "As if you have anything to say about my taste in films and television, Little Miss Hammer Horror. I remember the look on Christopher Lee's face when you went to that Hammer Horror Convention and showed him your fanart."

Harry looked at Hermione, and the Gorgon bookworm shook her head. "Don't ask. For your sanity's sake, don't ask."

"Oh, you don't need to _ask!_ " Shalltear said rather cheerfully. "I can go and get them now if…"

"NO!" Albedo and Hermione chorused simultaneously.

As Shalltear pouted, the door to the room opened, and a trio of people entered. He recognised Remus, of course, but he was accompanied by a pair of what looked like androgynous children, both with brown skin, blonde hair, pointy ears and mismatched eyes, one green, the other blue. One had a somewhat enthusiastic demeanour, dressed in trousers and a vest, with an undershirt made seemingly of red scales. The other was dressed in somewhat more feminine clothing, clutching a staff like it was a lifeline, and having a somewhat wimpy demeanour.

"Ah! Our lord and master is finally awake!" the enthusiastic one yelped with a grin.

"Don't crowd him, Aura," Remus said. "Mare…thanks for healing him."

The timid one nodded. Harry had to wonder why the poor sod was dressed in…well, he wore a skirt and stockings, for crying out loud! And this was the brother Hermione was talking about? Still, he reminded Harry painfully of himself before Hogwarts…or poor Neville. "Yeah, thanks for healing me…Mare, was it?"

A faint smile touched the skittish boy's lips, and he bowed. "It's my honour to do so, my lord," he said, his voice quavering a little.

"Sorry about my brother, my lord," Aura said, shooting Mare a look. "He's a wimp."

"And yet, he saved my life," Harry said. "Well, so did Albedo and Shalltear, and I'm grateful for that. But he healed me."

"Mare and Aura are always like that, Harry," Hermione said. "You'd think they'd act their age. Which is 76, incidentally. And yet they act younger than us. Of course, you'd better not underestimate them. Mare is one of our best mages, and Aura is a skilled combatant and beast tamer."

"And we are entirely at your service, my lord," Aura said, bowing, as did her brother.

"Can we…I dunno, quit with the 'my lord' stuff?" Harry asked. "I mean, I prefer people to just call me Harry. And now that I come to think about it, how did I become the heir to this Ainz Ooal Gown stuff?"

"Through your mother, Harry," Hermione said. "During the early 20th Century, the Ainz Ooal Gown bloodline was already reduced to few members. An ambitious young wizard by the name of Grindlewald took it into his head to demand the current head of the line to ally with him. However, the-then Ainz Ooal Gown refused, and the line was decimated. However, a Squib line was overlooked, one that became part of the Evans family, and this line Grindlewald overlooked or ignored. Those under the banner of Ainz Ooal Gown, however, were forced into hiding. Others tried to avenge themselves on Grindlewald, only to find him defeated by Albus Dumbledore in the dying days of the Second World War. When they tried to kill him then and there, Dumbledore attacked them, and made a vow to prevent the line of Ainz Ooal Gown from rising again."

"At the time of your parents' death at Voldemort's hands, there was still an Ainz Ooal Gown leading us, but with no direct heirs," Albedo said. "We had been acting against Voldemort, for he wanted our subjugation and destruction when we refused an alliance, but the fools at the Ministry believed us to be either his thralls, or just targets for extermination anyway. My own parents were murdered by overzealous Aurors," she said bitterly. "Shalltear's parents were murdered by vampires Voldemort had in his employ, made examples of as traitors to their species. When our prior lord perished with no issue after the war, there were no more candidates left, save for yourself. Of course, that meant that we had to be careful. Leaving aside the fact that we weren't sure whether you would be suitable, there was also your fame in the magical world. We also had little idea where you were. It was decided to send a spy to Hogwarts, one who wouldn't trigger the wards that would alert Dumbledore to the presence of a demon or a vampire. Hermione's parents had been acting as our eyes and ears in mundane society. Given her magical ability, we asked her to be our spy within Hogwarts. Gorgons would not trip the wards, though her abilities were sealed to be sure."

"Which would have been fine, if there wasn't a _Basilisk_ slithering around," Hermione remarked. "I was sent to keep an eye on you, evaluate you as an heir, and perhaps even train you covertly. Becoming your friend was an accident, but I don't regret that. Beyond Albedo and Shalltear, I didn't have many friends. I am pretty much like that normally. We're still friends, aren't we?"

"…Yeah. I don't care if you're a Gorgon, and frankly, I probably wouldn't have reacted well if you told me sooner. But, well, one question. About your eyes…"

"Oh, you're wondering why I'm not petrifying or killing anyone nearby? Secondary nictating eyelids, blocks my gaze from affecting anyone I don't want to hurt. Gorgons are similar to Basilisks, but I guess Voldemort told that Basilisk not to use its eyelids."

"Huh…"

Albedo, after a moment, looked over Harry, and said, "Well, Mare, I believe your healing magic has done a superlative job. Good work. I would expect nothing less when giving our lord healing."

"Th-thank you, Albedo," Mare stammered.

"Well then, it's time that you came along with us, Harry," Albedo said. "It is time to meet your people…"

* * *

He found himself able to walk, despite the condition he had been in when Albedo, Shalltear, and Mare had rescued him from the Dursleys. So he followed the others as they led him through various corridors. He wasn't quite sure why he was going along with this. Maybe it was because these people had saved his life, and despite being monsters with a contempt for humans, they had helped him when nobody else could or, more to the point, would. Maybe it was because he just wanted to go along with the flow, until he could figure out what was going on.

Or maybe it was because they were offering him power, and it was like a draught of water to a thirsty man, as power was to the powerless.

He would NOT be like Voldemort. He would not kill anyone because of their magical blood or lack thereof. And he didn't intend to let Voldemort run around killing Muggleborns out of an idiotic preconception of superiority. But if someone made themselves his enemy, then their days would be numbered. Dark thoughts, but while his morality hadn't quite died at the Dursleys, it had changed somewhat.

Soon, they entered a chamber, a vast opulent throne room with columns and banners hanging. An older man with aquiline features, white hair and beard, and in a butler's outfit stood at the ready, with a number of maids next to him. They were easily amongst the most normal people in the room, well, aside from Harry himself, along with Remus and, he could see to his relief, Sirius. There was a massive, hulking insect-like creature. There was a rather sharply-dressed man with glasses…and a long, inhuman tail. It was pretty much a menagerie.

Albedo moved forward. "Everyone, I bring the most excellent of tidings!" she declared. "Our lord and master has made a full recovery! May I present to you Harry Potter, the heir to the throne of Ainz Ooal Gown!"

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry's gotten more exposition, as well as having met Aura and Mare. Plus, can you see Albedo sitting down to watching** ** _Pride and Prejudice_** **? Or Shalltear watching a** ** _Dracula_** **film?**

 **And is it me, or is Mare basically Gasper Vladi from** ** _Highschool DxD_** **?**

 **1\. If you're wondering about this, the name 'Momonga' comes from a Japanese flying squirrel (no, really!), so this is an indirect reference to Momonga, or at least his name.**

 **2\. I thought Ainz Ooal Gown sounded like Gobbledegook, and I made up what it means. I know of where it comes from in the novels, thanks to the Wiki.**


	116. Neopolitan and the (original) Chap 1

**Now, before I begin this chapter, let me say to those who wanted to see _Under the Light of the Shattered Moon_...it won't be published. At least, not as it is now. I've begun a substantial revision of it that has removed the WBWL background, as well as Harry being a Faunus, and made Talon a group of irregulars attached to Atlas...which means that, while Blake will be on the canon RWBY team...Harry will be part of a new team: HPIN ('Hyperion'). And yes, aside from Harry, it is composed of canon _RWBY_ characters...and I'd love to see you guys guess who they are. That being said, I still intend to watch more of the series before I go any further on the story.**

 **But don't despair, _RWBY_ fans! I was partially inspired by a challenge by DZ2 ('Silence Will Fall') to do another _RWBY_ crossover. Like the original version of _Under the Light of the Shattered Moon_ , it is a WBWL fic. Unlike that fic, the story, save for this first part of the first chapter, isn't set on Remnant. It's also the first female Harry story I've done for a little while. If you're familiar with how the third volume of RWBY ends, then you might be able to guess who the female Harry is...and she's not a good girl...**

 **EDIT: (13/11/2017) After considering this story, I've gone back and torn out the whole 'James Potter being present at the Goblet of Fire ceremony' bit. Why? I felt that having Neo glare at James before doing her cover story of being amnesic was only going to complicate things. Neo would want her revenge to be a dish served cold, whereas James, if he genuinely thought Neo had lost her memory as Rose Potter, would let his guard down, as would Sirius. It'd make for a better story, hence my rewrite. Keep an eye out for the revised version of the first chapter. As the second chapter is almost identical to the original version, I won't be posting a new version of that...**

* * *

 _ **NEOPOLITAN AND THE GOBLET OF FIRE (ORIGINAL)  
**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **AN UNEXPECTED RESCUE**

As the old cliché went, it wasn't the fall that killed you, it was the sudden stop at the bottom. Then again, when said fall was through windy skies lousy with Grimm, and all you had slowing your fall was an umbrella, well, you might end up dead before you hit the ground at terminal velocity anyway. And the girl currently flying out of control through said Grimm-infested skies, lit only by the light of a shattered moon, knew that all too well.

Through an earpiece she had, to listen to any orders from her boss and big brother, she heard their target, an annoyance by the name of Ruby Rose, yell, " _I don't care what you say. We WILL stop them, and I WILL stop you!_ _ **BET ON THAT!**_ "

 ** _Ha_**. As if life ever turned out like it did in a fairytale. True, the girl currently gliding uncontrollably through the air, buffeted by air currents and the wakes of Grimm attacking, had helped in this plan. But that was because her big brother was made an offer he couldn't refuse. And if it meant surviving…well, the girl knew about surviving. Friends and family had a bad tendency to betray you. That was how she came here. Only her big brother, the criminal known as Roman Torchwick, had never betrayed that trust. They had helped each other out time and again.

Still, that Little Red Riding Brat was a good fighter, she had spirit. Hell, even at her most vulnerable, Ruby even managed to force the girl's favourite weapon, the Pernicious Parasol(1), to open, hence her current predicament. Oh, she could teleport, but it was hard teleporting onto moving objects at times, especially one going as fast as the Atlas airship. And she needed to concentrate, a bit hard when you were being buffeted around by the wind.

After the brief sound of a battle, she heard her big brother say, " _You've got spirit, Red! But this is reality! And reality is_ _ **cold!**_ _It doesn't give a shit about spirit! You want to be a hero so bad? Then you can_ _ **die**_ _, just like every other Hunstman! And I'll do what is best for me, lie, steal, cheat, and_ _ **survive!**_ " Suddenly, a muffled cry of pain, and then, a strange, sonorous beat, followed by muffled screaming, both human and not. With a thrill of horror, the girl realised that the microphone, along with the holder, had been eaten by a Grimm.

 _Big brother_ , she mouthed. Tears trickled from her eyes, one pink, one brown. She thought, _You gambled…and you lost._ _ **We**_ _lost. Cinder, Emerald and Mercury, and that witch they answer to…they don't care about us. Neither do the White Fang. They've gotten what they want. Hell, Little Red Riding Brat gets to survive…for now. Unless that damn Grimm decides it wants seconds. I hope it does_.

A roar, and she was forced to try and kick away a Griffon. Which was somewhat laughable, but it discouraged it…but it also sent her spinning out of control through the skies, her umbrella's canopy inverted. Now she was freefalling, and even teleporting to the ground would end up with her dying anyway. It only mitigated momentum so much, and her Semblance could only do so much either.

As much as Roman disdained fairytales, the girl really, badly wanted a fairytale ending right about now. She didn't want to be a princess, though. All she wanted to do was live, even if the happily ever after bit was optional.

As she plummeted through the skies, she heard a voice speak. An old, powerful voice that seemed familiar. " _Rose Potter?_ "

Irritably, she thought, even as the ground rushed up to meet her, _That is not my name! It hasn't been for years!_

This peevish thought may have been the last she ever thought, when she was suddenly consumed by a blast of azure flames…

* * *

For years afterwards, her disappearance was the subject of considerable concern within Remnant. Many thought she had died. Others thought she had merely gone to ground, perhaps too traumatised by the death of a man whom she was partners with to get up to any more mischief and malice. Or maybe she was plotting some sort of revenge. These concerns were a source of minor anxiety to both sides, though the entity known as Salem merely thought of her as a pawn whose use had ended.

In truth, the mute girl who had stood by Roman Torchwick's side had been snatched back home, to a world that didn't bask in the light of a shattered moon. A world that had abandoned her…and yet even now, had reached out to take her back.

And that was a mistake they would come to regret…

* * *

James Potter was not a nice person. In fact, he was spoiled, entitled, cocky, and with an absolute conviction that he alone knew what was good for the sake of Magical Britain. He wasn't alone in that regard, nor was he the only one with such misplaced conviction with money and influence. Especially with his son Charles being not only the Boy Who Lived, but also, thanks to a rather dubious ritual, one of the strongest wizards to ever live. All it needed was a mute near-Squib of a daughter, one he didn't want.

True, he could have arranged for a marriage, but there was something about the girl he never liked. That muteness since that night…and the fact that he knew Lily favoured Rose Harriet Potter over Charles. Plus, he didn't want to give out any more money to the little bitch than he had to, when that money could be better spent on events and bribes. The Potter family's finances had been drained by the previous war, and even while under the influence of Amortentia, Lily would never have dreamed of harming any child. But with Lily gone, and James now having a son he wanted instead of a daughter, well…he had only one use for a useless, mute daughter. No mute of wizarding blood had ever been able to cast spells properly, and it was a stain on the Potter line that needed to be rubbed out.

Plus, he had to admit, if only to himself, he was jealous. While she had displayed no magical aptitude yet, not since the accident, she showed herself to be a Metamorphmagus. She was too damned good for his liking. She shouldn't have that power. She was a mute near-Squib who didn't deserve to live.

So, she was forced to give up her magical core to her brother in a ritual in the Department of Mysteries, and then thrown through the Veil. All at the age of six, as a fifth birthday present for her brother. The Unspeakables he had involved were paid well for their silence, and the _Prophet_ merely announced that the sister to the Boy Who Lived had perished after a brief illness. Sirius knew and approved…but Remus, while he didn't know, suspected. And the fragile friendship they had broken. Not that he needed a friendship with a werewolf.

Of course, James knew that Dumbledore didn't think much of this, but fuck him. He was an old man whose time was long since passed. James Potter and his son were the future of Magical Britain. And he would show them why.

This Tri-Wizard Tournament would be an excellent demonstration of Charles' power. Okay, so at 14, he wasn't old enough to participate, and the Age Line would prevent that normally, but that's what adult wizards were there for. That, and a strong Confundus.

As the names of the various Champions were read out, James considered them. It was a pretty sad indictment of Beauxbatons when the Goblet chose what had to be a part-Veela tart to be its Champion. Krum was little surprise from Durmstrang, and probably knew too much in the way of Dark Arts for James' liking, in spite of the dubious things he had done in the past. And Cedric was a pretty boy, popular, handsome, and worse, a Hufflepuff. Seriously, that was the House where the dregs who weren't brave enough for Gryffindor, smart enough for Ravenclaw, or dark enough for Slytherin went. And a Hufflepuff was the chosen Champion for Hogwarts? What a fucking joke!

He had to school his expression when his son's name was announced. He had to look as shocked as everyone else, even when he was grinning inside. And to his delight, Charles was acting shocked as well. Like father, like son. Good poker face, and good Occlumency skills. Who said Gryffindors always wore their hearts on their sleeves? Idiots like Snivellus, that's who!

Even as a rather shocked and even annoyed Dumbledore ushered Charles into the room with the other Champions, and Maxime and Karkaroff rose to take issue with Dumbledore, James felt triumph. Everything was going his way, and Charles would show who the best wizard was in Europe, if not the world.

Of course, that was pretty much jinxing it. Because something happened that would scupper it.

The Goblet flared blue once more, and another piece of parchment came out. Dumbledore caught it, and then, he paled. "How could this be?" he asked quietly. Then, loudly, he spoke three words, six syllables, that had a chill run down James spine at the sheer impossibility of it. Because it meant that the sins of the past had come back to haunt him.

"Rose Harriet Potter."

Suddenly, in front of the Goblet, the floor seemed to burst into azure flames. And in its wake, a figure was lying, sprawled on the floor. A girl of indeterminate age, maybe a teenager, or a short and petite adult. But she could have been **_her_** age. She was dressed in white trousers, a white, midriff-baring blouse or jacket, her abdomen covered by a brown corset. She held an umbrella, broken, inverted by what could have been a gale. She wore necklaces.

Her hair was brown and pink, the pink parts having slight white streaks through them. As she opened her eyes, he saw that one was brown, and the other pink. She sat up, her face (there was no mistaking that face) twisted into a grimace of pain, though no groan escaped her lips. At best, a soft sigh, but it sounded like a thunderclap in the hush the Great Hall had fallen under.

The moment she realised where she was, she was on her feet, with surprising agility, even elegance. But James was not fooled. Beneath the casual, even cocky demeanour, she was at the ready, even with that umbrella, which she had managed to put back into place and close, over her shoulder. And then, her mismatched eyes met his own. And narrowed. She didn't make any move towards him…but he knew she had marked him.

* * *

"Rose Potter?"

Dumbledore's voice cut across the Great Hall. He had seen this materialisation, but he wasn't sure he could believe it. Rose Potter was dead, or so James had claimed. Rose had become a symbol of his failures almost as much as Rose's mother…and Ariana. And yet, here she was. Changed, yes, but the shape of her face was right, even if the hair and eye colour was odd. And he couldn't fail to see the glare that the girl was giving James.

On his question, the girl's gaze settled on him. The hostility only let up slightly. She plucked from a pocket what looked like a Muggle device, apparently made of a transparent screen. It looked decades in advance of anything Dumbledore knew of. She tapped on the screen for a bit, before she scowled, and then tapped on it again. A hiss of frustration escaped her lips, before she began tapping on it as if she was typing. Eventually, she walked over to him, and showed him the screen.

On the screen was a simple sentence of text. It read: _That is not my name anymore_.

Dumbledore blinked. What had happened to her? Why was she refusing to answer to her name? Trying to be diplomatic, he asked, "Well, what name do you want me to call you?"

After a moment, she typed more into that device of hers, before she showed him the message. He had to admit, it was an unusual name, a rather sweet name for a girl who was setting off his instincts for danger. Because he knew there was something truly dark within the girl. And yet, the name truly suited her, especially her colour scheme.

 _You may call me…Neopolitan_.

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Hoo boy. Neo is a female Harry, she's now in Hogwarts shortly after Roman got nommed by a Grimm, and she's stuck here with the wizards. Or maybe they're stuck here with her…**

 **1\. Neo's weapon doesn't have an official name, but I gave it one.**


	117. Neopolitan and the Goblet of Fire Chap 2

**Before we get started on the next chapter, I'm going to have to go on a rant. Why? Because a small but vocal minority don't seem to realise that, as the author of these stories, it is I who decides how to do them. If you detest bashing fics, then don't read, and don't bother leaving a review. I write these stories utterly on MY terms, not YOURS, and if you think otherwise, then you can piss off. Don't leave a review, and don't let the door hit your arse on the way out. Reviews are for praise, or constructive criticism, not for voicing your hatred of certain tropes.  
**

 **Also, if I do new stories at the expense of updating older ones, then so be it. This is what I do. I try to make an effort to do new chapters for older stories, and they're never abandoned until I say so, so put up, shut up, or fuck off! Am I understood?**

 **I only do bashing fics when it fits the story. Ditto WBWL fics. True, I've done a lot of them recently, but only because they suit the stories I wanted to tell. I have plenty of non-bashing fics you can read if you don't want to read bashing fics.**

 **Okay, rant over. Anyway, thank you to my supporters. As much as I'd like to guarantee that I can do this story as a full fic, I can't. I'm going to see if I can write beyond a certain amount of chapters. Once the preamble of Neo ending up in the TWT is over, part of the story will be about Neo establishing a new criminal empire, in memory of her big brother figure and mentor. Neo isn't going to fuck around, either, when it comes to James Potter and Sirius Black. They're going to meet sticky ends sooner rather than later.**

 **That being said, later, I'm going to post revised chapters for _Under the Light of the Shattered Moon_. Nobody got the full line-up of Team HPIN, so, here are the members, and I promise it'll make better sense in the fic:**

 **Harry**

 **Penny**

 **Ilia**

 **Neopolitan**

 **Ilia, for those unaware (and who hasn't read the original chapters of _Under the Light of the Shattered Moon_ ), is a character who appeared from the fourth series onwards, a Chameleon Faunus who was once a comrade of Blake in the White Fang. And yes, there'll be a reason for Neo being part of HPIN. She's a triple agent.**

 **Okay, onto the chapter.**

* * *

 _ **NEOPOLITAN AND THE GOBLET OF FIRE**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **COLD RECEPTION**

Neo strode into the anteroom where she had been directed, escorted by some fatuous fat fuck called Ludo Bagman. Some Ministry official who, judging by the Wimbourne Wasps Quidditch robes and the punch-drunk expression, was some ex-Quidditch star gone to seed. Actually, she remembered the sperm donor and Black talking about him.

Apparently she was being announced as the fifth Champion of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. And given the name, that was two mages too many. The mutinous expressions on the other four would-be Champions, mixed in with confusion (she had apparently been declared dead on this world), showed that they agreed.

Honestly, she had only used the magic inside her to fuel her Semblance, make the illusions so real, she could substitute them for herself during combat, allowing her to survive what could have been fatal wounds. Not that she needed that fighting against Yang Xiao Long. That blonde bimbo may have been strong and a half-decent fighter, but her fighting style was also predictable as hell.

Bagman hadn't given her name yet, but the haughty blonde girl asked, in a French accent, "And who is she?"

"Why, this is Rose Harriet Potter, of course!"

Neo sighed, and activated an app on her Scroll. It was a basic soundbank coupled with a set of pre-set messages. The message she chose was accompanied by a very distinctive sound. Namely, a klaxon.

 ** _AWOOGA! AWOOGA! AWOOGA!(_** ** _1)_**

Once she had gotten their attention, she showed the word she had up on her Scroll, pulsing in bright red. **_WRONG_**.

Then, she tapped another icon, and it then showed another message. _My name is Neopolitan. My friends call me Neo_.

"Well then, Neo…" Bagman began, only for Neopolitan to tap another icon, and another pre-programmed text display came up.

 _You are NOT my friend_.

"And do you have **_any_** friends, little girl?" the French girl asked haughtily. Oh, Oum, she reminded Neo of that bitch Weiss Schnee. She really, really hoped that some rabid White Fang nutjob had torn that bitch apart. Unlike Roman, Neo had some sympathy for the Faunus, though she thought that the White Fang were little more than rabid animals. Useful, true, but only in that they could be disposable mooks when the time came.

Neo smirked, and tapped another icon. She had literally hundreds of these, for almost any occasion. Not that she usually used it. It was usually only with Roman, or on the few occasions that she was required to communicate in more than gestures. And she showed the French tart the response.

 _Do you?_

"But why do you call yourself Neopolitan?" Bagman asked, puzzled. "The parchment slip said 'Rose Harriet Potter'."

"Maybe it's because she likes Neapolitan ice cream or something? I mean, she looks like it," the handsome boy, the one older than her, mused. Not the broody one with the hunched back, or the one who was her little brother, if only by blood.

Neo smiled at him, as if he was correct. Well, he wasn't wrong. When he first met her on the streets, Roman had asked her what her name was, and at the time, Neo wanted to leave the name of Rose Harriet Potter behind. She wanted to be a new person. So she chose to name herself after her favourite ice cream. It was Roman who had suggested deliberately misspelling 'Neapolitan' to 'Neopolitan', as he liked the thought of nicknaming her 'Neo'. And that felt good, actually. 'Neo' meant 'new', and it felt like she was a new girl.

"You can't be my sister," her little brother said. "She had red hair and green eyes…and she died of an illness." He looked too much like the sperm donor, albeit with blue eyes, and two scars like an equals sign on his forehead, just hidden by his fringe.

Neo sighed, and tapped in a message in a different app. _Hey, I'm as surprised as you are, okay? I don't know why people think I'm your sister, but I got snatched from where I was by some freaky blue flames. Not that I'm complaining, mind. I was skydiving without a parachute_.

"Skydiving? Without a parachute?" the handsome boy asked. "Are you suicidal or something?"

 _It wasn't by choice_. She checked over her umbrella as she did so. She'd need to see if she could get it in for repairing. Though given how technology had been on this world, as far as she could remember, she'd have a hard time doing that. There was no Dust, technology was decades behind Remnant even amongst the Muggles (though thankfully not that far), and she was amongst the wizards, who were mostly stuck in Victorian times at best. If she recalled, their most recent innovations were using a bus as emergency transport, and a form of radio they called the Wizarding Wireless. Not the sort of wireless she wanted, though: she missed Wi-Fi already.

"Is it broken?" the handsome boy asked. On her nod, he said, pulling out his wand, "May I?"

Reluctantly, she nodded, and held out the umbrella. " _Reparo_ ," he said, waving his wand. And the damned thing was now as good as new. She nodded in thanks, though she wasn't used to people doing things just out of altruism.

It was at that point that the old fart Dumbledore (what was it about him that reminded her of Ozpin? Aside from the whole eccentric headmaster thing?), along with some others, came in. Thankfully, the sperm donor wasn't there: otherwise, she'd be tempted to gut him then and there. Oh well, she could do that tomorrow. Or at least when she could. She could feign amnesia. That was why she denied being Rose Harriet Potter. That could protect her…though her glare at the sperm donor may have given it away.

"What is the meaning of this?!" one of the people who came in, a tall and intense man dressed in furs demanded. He had a somewhat Slavic accent.

"Yes, I would like to know as well," another, a tall woman, speaking with a French accent, said.

"I was under the impression, Dumbledore, that the Age Line you put in would have kept out younger contestants. Otherwise, we would have brought a wider range of contestants," the first man said. "Now you have two Potters participating."

Neo, making a point, activated the app again, and the klaxon wailed once more, with the word **_WRONG_** showing up on it, before she activated the next message. _My name is Neopolitan_. Then, as an afterthought, she pressed, _Get it right_.

The man sneered. "And aren't Muggle items not allowed in Hogwarts?"

"Calm yourself, Igor," Dumbledore said. "Miss Neopolitan here, as she seems to prefer to be called, cannot speak, so she uses the device to communicate. Though I must confess myself astonished that an electronic device is actually working at Hogwarts."

Neo blinked, before she typed in a message. _No electronics working here? BOOORRRRING!_

The message actually got some strained laughter from Dumbledore, as well as a man who looked like something a Grimm chewed up and shat out, with a weird blue eye that looked artificial. Cedric even laughed a little. The others looked far from amused. Neo then tapped out another message. _Look, the only part of this situation I like is that I am far away from where I was. I don't even know where I am_. Which was a barefaced lie.

"How could you not?!" Bagman protested.

"Because she's an amnesic Squib, Bagman, keep up," remarked a snide voice, belonging to a greasy-haired man with a big nose.

Neo typed into her Scroll, _I'm not a squid, I'm ice cream!_

"And deranged too," the greasy-haired man said. Oh, now she recognised him. Snivellous Snape, the man her father blamed for Voldemort attacking them…along with that rat Pettigrew.

It went downhill from there. Some dried-up old turd in a suit calling himself Crouch claimed that Neo and the so-called Boy Who Lived was stuck in some sort of magical contract to participate in this Tri-Wizard Tournament thing, despite the protests of most involved. Then, the scarred bastard (who reminded her too much of a cop for her liking) said something ominous about the Potters being entered to get them killed.

Neo just sat on the sidelines, watching the argument, standing near the handsome boy, who introduced himself as Cedric. _So, can we get popcorn?_ Neo asked. _Or ice cream?_

"You seem to be taking this well," Cedric observed.

Neo shrugged. _I don't know who dragged me here…yet. But when I do_ … She left that last bit in the air. She was tempted to deploy the blade in her umbrella to make a point, but that might tip her hand just a bit too early.

The adults seemed to finally reach a consensus, and Crouch stepped forward, telling them that the First Task was a test of their daring and bravery in the face of the unknown. So they would only be facing it with their wands.

Neo held up a hand, before typing out a message. _I don't have a wand. All I have is my umbrella…and it isn't magic_.

"We'd best remedy that, then," Dumbledore said solemnly.

 _Oh, all I need is my umbrella_.

"It's not a wand, therefore, you won't be able to use it," Crouch said officiously, only for Neo to scowl.

 _I believe the term is 'from my cold dead hands'_ , she typed into her Scroll.

"Calm down," Dumbledore said. "Miss Neopolitan…come with me, if you would, please? Minerva, I will leave you to deal with your student. Severus?"

As much as she distrusted the old man, Neo also knew that Dumbledore didn't have anything to do with the abuse she suffered from the sperm donor. She was only playing along for now so that she could orient herself, now that she was…well, not home, but back in the world of her birth…

* * *

Once she was brought to Dumbledore's office, Neo looked around briefly. She had to admit, she was enamoured with some of the bric-a-brac. In fact, she was already wondering if she could pinch any of it. She was, after all, all but raised by one of the best thieves in Remnant. "Miss Neopolitan…" Dumbledore began. "It seems that you may be in fact Miss Rose Potter, the older sister of Charles, the boy you met earlier. You don't remember that name?"

Neo just shook her head. The old man came around to her, and gently reached a hand over to her forehead. She let him, reluctantly, brush aside her fringe, revealing a faded scar, one she usually hid. One shaped like a lightning bolt. "I know that you are because of that scar. Which makes me wonder, why did James lie to me?"

"Because Potter is a habitual liar," Snape sneered. "No doubt he wanted her discreetly disposed of. After all, a mute is as bad as a Squib. Still, amnesia…must've clubbed her over the head and left her somewhere."

"Severus…" Dumbledore chided, only for Snape to sneer.

"Don't start! If Potter and Black were willing to lure me to my death at the hands of the werewolf, then they'd be willing to kill an embarrassment of a child!"

"I don't think you are in any position to judge them, Severus," Dumbledore said icily. "Or are you saying that nobody is worth a second chance? Even _you?_ "

Snape scowled in fury. "How dare you?!"

Neo snapped her fingers to get their attention, before she typed into her Scroll. _Look, I don't remember that man. Well, I've seen him in nightmares. I don't remember my life before I was six. My guardian, Roman Torchwick…he found me with a head injury. He raised me. We were in a business of sorts. Unfortunately, we got the attention of the wrong kind of people. I was thrown out of an airplane, and Roman was murdered_. It was mostly truth, save for the bits about her not remembering, or the head injury.

"I see," Dumbledore said. "I'm sorry for your loss, Miss Neopolitan."

 _Thank you_ , she said insincerely. It was easy to get away with insincerity when you typed out your responses. She very nearly asked about Remus Lupin, but decided not to, in case that blew a hole in her story about being amnesic. Remus was the only one of the Marauders she trusted…assuming he hadn't died or been corrupted by the sperm donor or Black in the meantime.

"You seem remarkably unfazed about being entered into a dangerous tournament, especially with no magical training or wand," Dumbledore said.

A sardonic smirk touched her lips. _I can fight pretty well_.

"Nonetheless, the rules are clear. Tomorrow, I or someone else will be escorting you to Diagon Alley to get you a wand," Dumbledore said. "Unfortunately, the rules state that neither I nor my staff can give you training…but I do know some people who can help you. If you truly lack memory of your childhood, then I should tell you that there is a man who was like an uncle to you, Remus Lupin. He is an expert on Defence Against the Dark Arts."

 _Yes!_ Neo thought to herself, fighting down the impulse to smile or pump a fist. She was curious as to why Dumbledore didn't mention the sperm donor or Black. Maybe it was because the sperm donor was probably a teacher here: he was at the Head Table after all, though he may have been an official for this Tournament. And maybe Dumbledore knew that whatever cock and bull story the sperm donor was false now that Neo had turned up alive.

Which meant that Neo was in danger. Oh, not yet. James Potter wouldn't dare try something in the centre of Dumbledore's power. Nothing lethal, anyway, not unless he was guaranteed to succeed.

But Neo had grown up in a world with Grimm. She had hung around terrorists who wanted to slit her throat just for being human. And that was without going into the likes of Cinder, Mercury, and Emerald, along with their boss, Salem.

Neo was a survivor. And perhaps in this world, she could not only survive, but thrive…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Neo has gotten a rundown of what's happening. But what next?**

 **Now, in case you're wondering why Neo isn't mourning Torchwick, she will soon. She's just been swept up in everything else. And James Potter won't be taking action yet. While he is something of an idiot in some regards, he's not wholly stupid. Instead, he's going to claim that Rose was kidnapped, and he used the 'death by illness' story when he believed she had died. He's going to claim that whatever Neo says is the result of Obliviation charms. Neo will play along…but both of them are going to be plotting each other's deaths.**

 **1\. If you want the sound I have in mind, think of the penalty klaxon from** ** _QI_** **.**


	118. Under the Light of (Revised) Chap 1

**After some considerable thought, I decided to go back and revise _Under the Light of the Shattered Moon_ , as those of you following this will have seen. This version won't have the WBWL as background, though Harry, Blake, Penny and Ilia do get dragged to Earth in the backstory for the TWT. However, we'll have, at best, allusions and flashbacks. The only other Potterverse characters I'm planning on having in the story will be Hermione, Remus and Sirius.**

 **That being said, while I am three chapters into the story already, I am yet to watch more of _RWBY_ , so publishing this story may have to wait. Who knows, if I can write more of it, _Neopolitan and the Goblet of Fire_ may come out first. But I hope you like this story.**

 **Incidentally, if Penny seems OOC in this story, it's because, unlike in canon, Harry, Blake, Ilia and Neo have socialised with her prior to coming to Beacon, so while Penny's still eccentric, she's less noticeably so.**

 **Oh, and before I go, time for a shameless plug. While it's not a Potterverse fic, I've posted a Halloween oneshot, a crossover between _Hellsing_ (or rather, _Hellsing Ultimate Abridged_ ) and _Spooky's Jump Scare Mansion_. It's called _Unholy Alliance_. Check it out.**

* * *

 ** _UNDER THE LIGHT OF THE SHATTERED MOON (REVISED)_  
**

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **DRINKS AND DANGER**

"So, where are we, exactly?"

This question came from a red-haired girl with green eyes, wide with wonder. She looked altogether too young to be in an establishment like this, even if it wasn't remotely seedy. If it weren't for the three people she was walking with, she would have been either escorted out, or viewed as fresh meat.

"We're at a bar, Penny," an older girl, maybe 17, with reddish-brown hair and what looked like freckles or birthmarks on her face, said.

"A bar? Oh, a meeting place where people attempt to achieve advanced states of mental incompetence through repeated consumption of fermented vegetable drinks!" Penny said with a smile(1).

The sole boy with them, about the same age as the older girls, chuckled. His messy dark hair framed a long face with emerald eyes, with a lightning bolt-shaped scar snaking out from underneath his fringe. "Did your dad teach you that one?"

"Nope."

"Anyway, it's more of a nightclub than a bar," the boy said. "We're only allowed here because, well, Junior knows us. He knows we work for Rusty. As long as we don't start anything, we're fine."

"I like the music," Penny said, bopping along as she walked with them.

"Good. It's been a while since we've had a night out after that extended mission," the boy said.

"It was only extended because those guys thought you were their saviour, Harry," the remaining girl said. She had black hair, golden eyes, and wore a black bow on her head. "Besides, I am not sure it counts as a mission when you're kidnapped to another dimension by an arcane artifact."

"Hey, Rusty counted it as one, Blake, and we got danger pay to boot, even though I was the one to face that dragon…and dive into the lake…and go through that hedge maze," Harry said. "At least the old fart let us go. And we got new friends out of it."

And hadn't that been a saga? Three of the four core members of the Talon covert ops unit of the Atlas Military, along with Penny, kidnapped by wizards from another world? A world that Harry had come from, free from Grimm, but not free from strife. A conflict that had thankfully been stopped before it could begin anew.

They reached the bar, and the bartender took their orders, with Harry ordering some Dust-laden lemonade for Penny. The girl with the reddish-brown hair glanced behind them, only to flinch. "Heads up. Torchwick just entered."

The four gazed at a mirror behind the bar, watching a rather dapper figure approaching. Dressed in a white suit, with a cane, a bowler hat, and a cigar, Torchwick liked to pass himself off as a gentleman thief. Well, he was a thief, and rumoured to be a murderer and with links to the terrorist faction of White Fang, oddly enough. Part of his orange hair hung over his right eye, and the other was made-up in a manner that, if Harry had seen _A Clockwork Orange_ , he would have found familiar.

"Must be why little sis couldn't join us tonight," Harry muttered. "It's a working night, and Roman's probably taking advantage of the time until she goes to Beacon with us."

The cane-wielding thief approached Junior, the embarrassingly-nicknamed proprietor of the nightclub, and began speaking to him quietly. Penny frowned. "I cannot hear much, even with filtering software, but…he seems to want Junior to loan him some men for a job."

"We'll notify Rusty and Ozpin later," Harry said. "Maybe little sis could help us found out what he's up to."

As Torchwick finished his conversation and walked away, a girl about their age, with blonde hair, lilac eyes, and a buxom figure, strutted towards the bar, eventually sitting down next to Harry. Her face seemed vaguely familiar. "Strawberry Sunrise," she said to the bartender. "No ice. Oh, and one of those little umbrellas."

Junior, who had been nearby, came over, and asked, "Aren't you a bit young to be here?"

The girl jabbed her thumb at Harry and his group. "Aren't they? And anyway, aren't you a bit old to have a name like Junior?"

"So you know who I am. Can I ask who you are, then?"

Harry noticed the look in the blonde's face, as well as the shotgun gauntlets currently on standby on her wrists, and said, "If you're going to start shit here, Blondie, can it at least wait until _after_ we've finished our drinks? Bar brawls tend to ruin the mood."

"Hey, I just wanna ask him a few questions," the girl said. "He apparently knows everything." Sighing, she pulled out her Scroll, and showed a picture to Junior. "This woman, you ever see her?"

Junior peered at the picture, of a woman who looked like the blonde, but with black hair and red eyes, and shook his head. "Never seen her before."

"I have," Harry said as he peered at the picture. And he was gratified to see the girl whip her head around to stare at him in shock. "And trust me, you don't want to meet her."

"Oh? And why is that?" the blonde asked, her tone both interested…and dangerous-sounding.

"Can it wait for a few minutes at least? My friends want to finish their drinks first. Trust me, you won't have to beat the answers out of anyone…"

* * *

About fifteen minutes afterwards, they walked out of the nightclub, to just outside it, into the streets of Vale. Light from the shattered moon shone down. "Okay," the blonde said impatiently. "So, what do you know about her?"

"Well, first, introductions. I'm Harry Potter. That's Blake Belladonna. That's Ilia Amitola, and that's Penny Pollendina."

"Salutations!" Penny chirped, smiling.

"Right. I'm Yang Xiao Long," the blonde said. "So, what do you know?"

"Well, I'm guessing the woman is your mother," Harry said, enjoying the look of shock on Yang's face. "Her name is Raven Branwen. And she's not someone you want to trifle with. I only really know of her by reputation. Leader of some bandit tribe. They have this major 'survival of the fittest' mentality going."

"How did you recognise her face, then?" Yang pressed.

"Our boss once briefed us on her," Harry said. "And before you ask, you can't just rock up to him and squeeze his nuts till he starts talking."

"Why not?"

"Well, if you want to try doing that to General Ironwood, be my guest. I'll buy flowers for your funeral," Ilia said.

Yang blinked. "Wait…you guys are from Atlas?"

"Sort of. We're transfers to Beacon, part of an exchange program. There's a fifth one, my kid sister, but she isn't here. You go to Beacon yet?"

"Actually, I'm starting with the most recent intake," Yang said. She peered at them. "And you can't tell me any more about her?"

"Not really, nothing you'd like," Ilia said.

"Yang? What are you doing here?"

The voice was that of a girl approaching them, one in her mid-teens. With the red hooded cloak and the black dress, Harry was put in mind of Little Red Riding Hood. Short dark hair with slight red streaks framed her face, from which a pair of silver eyes peered out. "Oh, hey sis!" Yang said. "It's kinda a long story."

"Right…and who are these people?" the girl asked.

"Salutations!" Penny chirped.

"Hey. We were just telling your sister what little information we had about your mother," Harry said. He wasn't sure how these two were related, though. Adopted? Half-siblings? There was some resemblance.

The girl frowned, and then looked at Yang. "You mean your birth mother, right, Yang?"

"Yeah. I wasn't asking them about Mom. We both know where she is," Yang said, looking morose, an expression shared by the younger girl.

"And you are…?" Blake asked.

"This is my little sister, Ruby Rose. Well, half-sister, but we don't care about that," Yang said. "Ruby, these people are exchange students from Atlas."

Harry introduced them, and Penny, true to form, said, "I hope we can be friends, Ruby and Yang!"

Ruby looked accepting, though Yang seemed bemused. "Don't worry about her. She had an overprotective father, she hasn't gotten out much. But she's a good fighter," Ilia said. Which was true enough, Harry reflected.

"Oh, I know that feeling," Yang said, as Ruby and Penny exchanged Scroll addresses. "Our father…he's pretty protective too. See you at Beacon, then?"

"Sure…"

* * *

In his hotel room later that night, Harry peered at the information forwarded to his Scroll. _Okay, Yang Xiao Long and Ruby Rose, half-sisters. Yang is definitely the daughter of Taiyang Xiao Long, and Raven Branwen, and Ruby's the daughter of Taiyang and Summer Rose. Along with Qrow Branwen, those three formed the Beacon Hunter Team STRQ. Yang noted to fight using shotgauntlets known as Ember Cecilia, while Ruby, like her uncle Qrow, uses a rifle-scythe called the Crescent Rose. For her age, Ruby is apparently something of a prodigy when it comes to combat, though she is also a noted eccentric_.

 _Not that I can talk_ , Harry thought ruefully, lying back on the bed he had been sitting on. _Talon's been filled with mavericks ever since Rusty invited little sis and I. Then we brought in Blake and Ilia. Oum, I'm glad I managed to get Blake away from White Fang after Sienna Khan took it over. And Ilia…I'll bet you any money she would have deserted us and joined White Fang if I hadn't been there to comfort her when her parents died. And that's without going into my abilities_.

Harry, you see, came from another world, one called Earth rather than Remnant. He had been orphaned as a child, and raised by…relatives. Though he wouldn't even call them that if he had his way. But when he was eight, he had been on a school excursion with his cousin to the Wookey Hole caves…and pushed down an abyss by him.

He didn't die. No. He woke up, battered and bruised, and was found by people in a nearby orphanage…an orphanage where he met the girl he would call a little sister for the first time. But after the orphanage changed hands, and the new heads turned out to be as bad as the Dursleys, he and his little sister fled…and found refuge, for a time, at Menagerie…and in the Belladonna household. It was there that he met the first of his future girlfriends, a cat-eared Faunus called Blake.

Of course, it was a long, complicated, and difficult road that eventually led to Harry and his sister joining Atlas. Blake wouldn't do so until later, convinced that she could do more good within the White Fang…until Sienna Khan took over the leadership, and they began terrorist attacks. Blake left White Fang at the age of 15…and joined the maverick group Harry and his sister formed with some others in Atlas' military: Talon.

Talon was a group that specialised in reconnaissance, espionage, and unconventional warfare. While many derided it as an anti-White Fang group, it was actually meant to deal with enemies both without and within Atlas…including the Schnee Dust Company, whose monopoly on the Dust Atlas used and its increasingly brutal practises towards employees (especially Faunus), meant they were enemies. And there was something else, something few people in the world knew about.

Harry's little sister was on undercover work frequently, having caught the eye of one of the more infamous criminals of Vale. Even now, they were allowing her to go to Beacon with Harry as a spy for said criminal and his employers. That little plan nearly got scuppered when, over a series of months, Harry was abducted by a magical artifact and forcibly returned to the home of his birth (and it was weird, learning that six years had passed on Earth, while eight had passed on Remnant). There, he had to deal with an irritating tournament that was, at least, mildly interesting, though he would have preferred the Vytal Tournament. Oh, and he prevented the resurrection of the man who murdered his parents. Now it was up to that old fart to clean up the rest.

Some of those from that world had emigrated here. That Granger girl, for example, had been a major help when refining Harry's abilities, and she was now working in R&D. His godfather and that werewolf who knew his birth parents were coming to Beacon later, apparently as part of some collaboration with Ozpin.

His Scroll chirped, and he found a message from his little sister. _Hey, Harry. You all excited about going to Beacon?_

He smiled, and tapped out a response. _Of course. We saw the orange-haired pimp swaggering through Junior's club tonight. You know anything about that?_

He knew she'd be laughing…well, as much as she could given her condition, at that. _Apparently he's going shopping for Dust. You know that woman who approached us? She wants a lot of Dust. I've notified Rusty, and doubtless he'll tell the Wizard of Oz_.

Meaning Ozpin. Harry had often called Ozpin that, having seen the film before being chucked down the hole by Dudley. His sister picked up the usage of the name. _Well, take care. I'll see you on the airship to Beacon._

 _Will do. Don't forget the ice cream vouchers_ …

* * *

In the warehouse used by Roman Torchwick as his base, a girl in her mid-teens pocketed her Scroll, smiling. She was dressed rather elegantly, the ensemble topped off by a frilly pink umbrella, her hair was brown and pink, the latter having white streaks in it, her eyes also brown and pink. She hopped down off a pile of boxes, and stepped over to where Torchwick was poring over a map of Vale, one that showed locations of Dust shops and storehouses.

"Hey, Neo," Torchwick asked. "Have fun messaging your brother?"

Neo, aka Neopolitan, shrugged, the gesture meant to show an apparent apathy for her brother, an apathy she didn't actually feel. It seemed to get the right response, for Torchwick nodded. "Okay. Just remember what you're doing. And remember, Cinder doesn't tolerate failure, so don't expose yourself. Especially not to your brother."

 _Oh, Roman_ , Neo thought, even as she nodded. _You have literally no idea what you've gotten yourself into. You think yourself big time, but between Talon and Cinder, you're small time. Especially if who we believe Cinder's true boss is correct. You're just a pawn being used by Salem_ …

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **A different beginning to the story I originally wanted to tell. While I considered doing a story where Harry was dragged back to Earth by the Goblet…I've done a lot of Year Four stories, and I wanted to do this story with a minimum of Potterverse baggage, so they will be more background than anything else.**

 **Now, the relationships are as follows: Harry is lovers with both Blake and Ilia, but Neo and Penny are both little sisters to him. When he gets better acquainted with Ruby, she'll be a little sister, and Yang will be a sister figure too.**

 **You might have noticed, but the chapter was partially adapted from the Yellow Trailer that introduced Yang. Just saying.**

 **Also, some of the following chapters will be adapted from the original version of** ** _Under the Light of the Shattered Moon_** **.**

 **1\. Penny is aping Kryten's joke about pubs in the** ** _Red Dwarf_** **episode** ** _Timeslides_** **.**


	119. Under the Light of (Revised) Chap 2

**Now, before I get onto the next chapter of the revised version of _Under the Light of the Shattered Moon_ , I'd like to give some shoutouts to some stories. It's Halloween, after all, and what's Halloween without some scary and/or gory stories? I'll be touting my own stories, mainly, but I'll include some more from others. I've already touted at the beginning of the previous chapter my new oneshot, the _Hellsing/Spooky's Jump Scare Mansion_ crossover _Unholy Alliance_. But I'd like to tout some more. Okay, most of my followers will have read and favourited these already, but still...just in case.  
**

 **Firstly, my own stories...**

 ** _Haemophilia_ : Inspired by sakurademonalchemist's own attempt at crossing over Harry Potter with _Hellsing_ (look for _It's in the Blood_ in her _Short Story Drabbles_ if you're interested), _Haemophilia_ , while having a strongly comic edge (I made Alucard more like his Abridged counterpart), does have a lot of horror. While on hiatus for now, it's still easily one of my longest fanfics.**

 ** _Lux in Tenebris Lucet: Renovatur_ : Imagine Harry as the childhood friend of Alma Wade from _FEAR_. Imagine an Alma who never got imprisoned in the Vault, but nonetheless is a scarily powerful little girl. And imagine her going to Hogwarts. Again, while on hiatus for now, it's still a good read.**

 ** _On the Delights of Drinking Blood_ : While more crackfic than horror fic, _On the Delights of Drinking Blood_ IS filled with horrific comedy moments. What else would you expect from a vampire Lunar Harmony story?**

 ** _Disquiet_ : Imagine that Harry is an unrepentant killer, albeit one with standards. Imagine he has a lover who is every bit as twisted as he is. And imagine that they're two of the most infamous figures in the underworld of Roanapur. This, then, was the basis for my first WBWL fic, _Disquiet_ , a crossover with _Black Lagoon_. And where Harry is the lover of Sawyer the Cleaner.**

 ** _Henry Ashford and the Goblet of Fire_ : What if Harry was raised by Alexia Ashford, one of the most dangerous scientists ever to work for the Umbrella Corporation? This _Resident Evil_ crossover shows what happens...**

 **And now for the plugging of others' works...**

 ** _The Purge_ by redbayly: DEFINITELY not for the faint of heart. Harry Potter learns he's the descendant of witch-hunter Matthew Hopkins. Having had enough of the apathy and inaction of people around him, he embarks on a crusade against Death Eaters and their kin, torturing them and killing them.**

 ** _Ship of Theseus_ by Ferric: A _Resident Evil_ fanfic, and an AU of the events of _Resident Evil 0_ , with Rebecca Chambers subjected to an experiment by Dr Marcus, with disturbing consequences. And no, not that kind of experiment. Just the run of the mill crap Umbrella likes to pull...**

 ** _Starry Eyes_ by helnae: A _Worm_ fanfic crossed over with the Cthulhu Mythos, that manages to be both horrific...and yet sweet.**

 **There's a few more I could name, but I won't bother.**

 **Anyway, after the plugging, a quick preamble before I get on. A guest reviewer for the last chapter raised a few interesting points, but it's worth pointing out that they thought 'rocking up' to someone wasn't a turn of phrase. It means to go to them unannounced or uninvited, which, frankly, Yang would do. Also, Hermione's parents HAVE emigrated to Remnant, or at least are in the process of doing so. However, the Kryten joke scene had him confused about entering a pub after he, along with the Red Dwarf crew, had stepped into a photograph into the past (it's a long story). I copied the line almost verbatim from the episode, with a slight alteration.**

 **Anyway, those who've read the original version of this chapter will see a lot of similarities here, save for the additions of Neo and Weiss. Again, it'll be some time before it is published.  
**

* * *

 **UNDER** _ **THE LIGHT OF THE SHATTERED MOON (REVISED)**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **BEACON**

As he passed the blonde puking into the bin at the airship dock, Harry said, "Next time, get a ginger pill or something, mate." He had discreetly cast a Scourgify on his shoes, grateful that his time on Earth during the Tri-Wizard Tournament had taught him that much.

The boy moaned weakly, but nodded. "And he's a wannabe Huntsman?" Ilia asked as they followed Ruby and Yang, whom they encountered on the ship.

"Hey, maybe he just gets motion sickness easily," Harry said with a shrug, before watching Ruby fangirl out at all the weapons on display. "I'm wondering why Ozpin brought her in early, though. It's got to be more than impressing him with her skills foiling Torchwick." Harry then looked at Neo, who was coming up to them. "Crap, I forgot to introduce you two, didn't I?"

Neo shrugged. As Yang scurried off with some friends, Harry and his friends were about to approach Ruby, only for Ilia to frown. "Heads up, here comes Winter's bratty kid sister."

The girl in question was pale-skinned, blue eyes, and with white hair. Her haughty demeanour was very much of a would-be princess. And in a way, that was precisely who she was: Weiss Schnee, the heiress to the Schnee Dust Company, and daughter of one of their enemies, as they had exposed the SDC's dirty dealings before. Ruby had fallen onto her luggage trolley, and Weiss had been launching into a tirade, waving a small vial of Dust at Ruby…who sneezed when the Dust, leaking from underneath an unsecure lid, entered her nose.

The quintet threw up their hands to shield themselves from the small Dust explosion, leaving a small crater in the ground nearby, and covering Weiss' face with soot. The vial rolled to a stop against Neo's foot, who plucked it up off the ground. As Weiss and Ruby argued, Harry decided to intervene. "Hey, you should be more careful about how you secure your Dust vials, Little Miss Heiress," Harry said, as Neo handed the vial back over to a bemused Weiss. "She couldn't have set off your Dust with a sneeze if the lid was still on."

Weiss glared at him. "And you are?"

"Harry. I'm…a colleague of your sister's. And she'd be disappointed at your lack of deportment…though she gets annoyed at mine all the time. Anyway, it was an accident. Though the SDC could stand to have less of those, what with its standards of safety…or lack thereof. And that's without going into how they treat their employees, especially Faunus ones."

"Why…you…" Weiss took her luggage and stormed off in a huff.

Ruby sighed, before turning to Harry and the others. "Well, at least I have a few friendly faces. It's nice to see you again, Penny! And Harry, Blake, Ilia, and…uh…"

"Oh, right, you didn't meet her last time," Harry said. "Ruby Rose, meet Neopolitan. My sister. Well, as good as. She's not exactly talkative."

"She doesn't look shy to me," Ruby said.

Neo shrugged, and then tapped her throat, mouthing, _Can't speak_.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" Ruby said, aghast.

"It's fine, she's used to it," Harry said. "She's enough of a smartarse without being able to speak. Ow! Hey!" This last was in response to Neo playfully and lightly swatting him over the head with her umbrella.

Ilia chuckled. "You should know not to annoy her, Harry."

"So, you guys want to hang out, then?" Ruby asked.

"You sure you want to hang out with Faunus?" Ilia asked.

Ruby shrugged. "I don't care, as long as you're not bad guys. I like your ears, Blake."

Blake, who had taken off her bow at Harry's suggestion for their transfer to Beacon, smiled. "Thank you."

"But what sort of Faunus are you, Ilia?"

"Chameleon," Ilia said, her skin shifting to different colours. In fact, her parents sent her to Atlas Academy because they knew she could pass for human as long as she didn't show her ability to change colour.

"Cool! Can you be all, like, stealthy and stuff?" Ruby asked.

"She mostly changes colour based on mood," Blake said quietly. "It's not exactly camouflage, Ruby."

Ilia nodded. "Though I can use it like camouflage to a degree. I'm glad you like it, Ruby. Not many people do. When my parents died in a collapse at a Dust mine, some people mocked them, not knowing I was a Faunus. In my grief, I turned blue…and they mocked me when they realised what happened. If it weren't for Harry being there to comfort me…"

"I see," Ruby said solemnly. "I'm sorry to hear that, Ilia."

Blake looked over at Harry. "Do you mind if I have a wander before the opening ceremony?"

"Sure."

"Can I look around too?" Penny asked.

"Okay, just don't wander too far," Harry warned.

As Blake and Penny walked off, Ruby frowned. "Where are they going?"

"Penny likes to explore new places. And Blake likes peace and quiet every now and then," Harry explained. "Sometimes, all she wants is a nice quiet corner to read a book in, or a peaceful walk. I know my girlfriend long enough to know when she gets this way, and I just let her be."

"Wait, wait, you two are girlfriend and boyfriend?" Ruby asked.

Ilia chuckled, though she didn't tell Ruby that she was also Harry's girlfriend. "Yep. Have been for a couple of years now. They make a cute couple. Blake's pretty lucky to have Harry. Her first boyfriend…was not the nicest person."

Harry scowled at the reminder of Adam Taurus, Neo putting a hand on his arm. Before they could get into any further discussion, the blonde boy with the motion sickness issues wandered up. "Hey, I'm Jaune."

"Ruby," Ruby replied, before remarking, with a distinct lack of tact, "Aren't you the guy who barfed on the ship?"

* * *

Harry found himself wandering with Ilia and Neo , following Jaune and Ruby as they discussed their weapons. Like Ruby and Yang, Jaune didn't seem to have any issues with Faunus, only White Fang. Harry did have to wonder how someone like him got into Beacon, though. Coasting on the Arc family's reputation, maybe, as the Arcs did have at least one famous ancestor, to his knowledge. Oh, he seemed earnest enough, beneath the nervousness and awkwardness.

That being said, Harry, Neo and Ilia had to escort the two back to the auditorium when the time came for the opening ceremony. Blake joined them soon after. "Enjoy your walk, Blake?" Harry asked.

The cat-eared girl nodded. "Is this a new friend?"

"Well, as I told these guys, my mother told me that strangers are just friends you haven't met yet," Jaune said. "I'm Jaune Arc."

"Blake Belladonna," she replied courteously.

Penny had already gone into the auditorium, and they joined her soon afterwards. Ruby was called over by Yang. Ruby made her excuses and scurried off, while Jaune, after a moment, wandered off despondently. Ilia frowned as she looked around, and noticed a red-haired girl with green eyes, wearing vaguely Grecian armour. "Huh. Looks like we have a celebrity. That's Pyrrha Nikos."

"The one who's on the cereal boxes? The one who won the Mistral Regional Tournament four times in a row?" Harry asked. "Huh. People are going to be queuing up to be her teammate, I'm sure."

"She looks pretty subdued for a celebrity," Blake observed.

Penny, meanwhile, was looking around the auditorium in excitement. They waited, briefly overhearing an argument between Ruby and Weiss, until finally, at a lectern at the other end of the auditorium, Ozpin appeared, clearing his throat to get their attention. "I'll keep this brief. You have journeyed here today in search of knowledge, to hone your craft and acquire new skills, and at the end of that, you intend to dedicate your life to protecting people. But I gaze amongst you all, and what I see is wasted energy that requires purpose and direction. You believe that knowledge will set you free of such problems, but your time here at Beacon will show you that knowledge will only take you so far. Taking the first step is up to you." Throughout it, his voice was calm, but also somewhat flat.

"Okay, I've heard better motivational speeches from _Winter_ ," Harry muttered, _sotto voce_.

"Yeah. I mean, I get what he's saying, and being a Hunter is no picnic, but you'd think he'd try and get you motivated, not depressed," Ilia said.

"I'm motivated," Blake said, completely deadpan. "Yay. Woo."

Neo chuckled quietly, the sound having the air of mirthful coughing.

* * *

The students were to sleep together in the hall en masse, like some big slumber part. Harry and Blake were sitting side by side, Blake reading _The Man with Two Souls_. Ilia and Neo were sitting together nearby, while Penny had gone over to chat to Ruby and Yang. "I really hope we're on the same team," Harry said quietly. "We've worked together for so long…though Oum knows how the team assignments are made."

"I hope we are too. What's your thoughts on the Arc boy?"

"In over his head. He might be competent, but becoming Hunters is not for the faint-hearted or weak. He's going to either sink or swim. That being said, I really hope we're not on the same team as that wanker over there."

Blake noticed his glare at a tall boy with reddish-brown hair. The boy noticed his scrutiny, and sneered, and mouthed _Filthy animal_ at them. Blake sighed, and muttered, "I wish you hadn't talked me into not wearing the bow."

"Blake, I love you the way you are." He gently stroked one of her ears, and she closed her eyes, all but purring from his gentle ministrations. "At least the others we met don't give a damn. Ruby, Yang, Jaune…they're some of the nicest humans we've met."

"And there's Neo and you," Blake said. "And for all Ironwood being so cold…he's a good man at heart." Then, an impish smirk touched her lips. "You do know that we'll be sleeping in dorms, with our teammates? So we won't have much privacy for…you know."

"That's what the trunk is for, remember? They won't be able to complain about the noise we make if we go in there," Harry said with an equally impish smirk.

The two shared a soft chuckle at the thought, and sat there, sharing each other's company, while waiting for sleep to finally claim them…

* * *

The next morning, the five friends from Talon made their way to the cliffs overlooking the Emerald Forest, ready for initiation. Harry and the others had been accosted by some redhead by the name of Nora Valkyrie, and had listened to her harebrained plans. "All I'm saying is that I've known a sloth Animagus by the name of Grif, and he doesn't sound anything like that," he pointed out.

"But that's why it's the perfect plan!"

Neo raised an eyebrow, as if to say, _Really?_ But before anything could be said further, Ozpin directed them to the catapult platforms. Harry and the other Talon members didn't need to undergo initiation, but it had been agreed that they would still do it, if only to better camouflage the fact that they were sent here mostly as insurance against those who wanted to see Beacon fall.

Ozpin said, "For years, you've been training as warriors. Today, that training will be put to the test here in the Emerald Forest."

Glynda nodded, and added, "Let me put the rumours of how we pick teams to rest. You will be given teammates today."

"Those teammates will be your comrades throughout your time here," Ozpin continued, "so it is in your best interest to be paired with someone you would work well with. That being said, after landing, the first person you make eye contact with will be your partner for the next four years."

"WHAT?!" Ruby yelped.

Harry looked askance at Ozpin. "Rusty was right. You're a bloody troll, Ozpin. In the unlikely event that I die giving some Nevermore indigestion, I thought you should know that."

A wave of laughter, some of it strained, swept the line of students. Even Ozpin chuckled, before his expression became solemn once more. "After you've partnered up, head to the northern end of the forest. You will meet opposition along the way, opposition that you must strike down, or else you will die." As Jaune, and a couple of others, got more nervous at that, Ozpin continued, "You will be monitored and graded throughout by the instructors here, but they will not interfere. There's an abandoned temple at the end of the path with relics. Each pair must choose one, and then return to the top of the cliff. We will regard that item, and your standing, and grade you appropriately. Any questions?" Jaune put his hand up, only for Ozpin to say, "Good! Now, take your positions."

"Again, you're a bloody troll, Ozpin," Harry muttered, only to be nudged by Blake.

"Um, sir, what about, well, landing?" Jaune asked as the catapult platforms began to be activated. "Are you dropping us off?"

"No. You'll be falling. And no parachutes. Students have to figure out their own landing strategy."

Blake, then Neo and Penny and Ilia, got launched into the air, and Harry, after sending a spell Jaune's way, once more gave Ozpin a flat look. "Has anyone told you you're a bloody TROLLLLLLL?!" Harry yelled, just as he was launched into the air.

As Jaune soon followed, Ozpin took a sip of his hot chocolate, and remarked to Glynda, "It has been noted…"

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Seriously, Ozpin is a troll.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	120. Non Omnis Moriar Chapter 1

**So, here we are again. This is another story inspired by one of sakurademonalchemist's stories, a story she only published the first chapter to in her _Short Story Drabbles_. While it doesn't actually start in the same way, nor will it continue as such, it does take one key cue: Shirou Emiya from _Fate/Stay Night_ is Harry Potter. In her story, _Rebirth of Phoenix_ , Harry managed to arrange with the Goblins (who only agreed because they hoped it would kill him) to de-age himself and go back in time to start a new life. In my story, Harry is reincarnated as Shirou (along with other Potterverse characters: I think some people will be surprised at who I made for Sakura), but as it had similar principles, I thought I'd acknowledge my inspiration.**

 **Incidentally, if you want to read the sole chapter of _Rebirth of Phoenix_ , here it is:**

 **s/9495509/42/Short-Story-Drabbles**

 **I've been meaning to do a Harry/Sakura story for some time, and this, along with additional pairings (Arturia is a given, and Medusa another), is my answer to that. Also, because some of Harry's personality has bled through into Shirou, Shirou _will_ be pretty OOC in this story. He still has his 'saving people thing' shared between them, but he's also much more cynical and less willing to save everybody, regardless of who they are. Plus, as we will detail later in the story, Shirou/Harry has managed to not only get most of the full story of the Fourth Grail War from Kiritsugu, but he's also managed to meet Illya long before the Fifth Grail War, though the von Einzberns don't believe him about Angra Mainyu.**

 **Incidentally, I'm cross-posting this in _Zelretch's Collection of Alternates_. And _The Cauldron_ has surpassed 700 reviews. Woot.**

* * *

 _ **NON OMNIS MORIAR**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **A NEW LIFE**

Shirou sighed as he closed up the archery club. It might've taken him longer than that, had he not known a few tricks. Tricks he had to be careful of using, in case it triggered that Bounded Field he sensed earlier. Still, it gave him time to actually investigate the Bounded Field…as he had his suspicions about what had caused it.

Sneaking through the school was easy. He had something of a gift for stealth, and that was without going into his abilities. Abilities only two other people knew about, as far as he knew: his best friend, Sakura Matou, and his sister. The only other person to know, his adoptive father, was dead…and he had warned Shirou not to let anyone else know about said abilities, especially another Magus. Kiritsugu Emiya may have given up the career of an assassin by the time he adopted Shirou, but he certainly imbued a similar sense of reasonable paranoia. For some reason, the words 'constant vigilance' always came to mind around his father.

There were frequent odd flashes of half-remembered phrases and names in Shirou's mind. He had nightmares and dreams that seemed more like memories. Though they couldn't have been memories: Shirou may have lost his in the Fuyuki Fire, but he was older in those dreams, and had black hair and green eyes in them, not to mention British. So, given that he was Japanese, had red hair (unusual for a Japanese), and hazel eyes, it can't have been him…though it meant his grades in English classes were exemplary (not that Taiga would have it any other way).

He eventually reached the roof, and found what he was looking for fairly quickly. A magic circle was inscribed on the roof, and he scowled. He couldn't tell what it was for, but he was fairly sure it wasn't anything good.

The door to the roof opened, and Shirou looked up to find a fairly unwelcome face approaching. "You? What are you doing here?" the girl with the dark hair done up in twin ponytails demanded.

"Admiring someone else's handiwork. I hope this isn't yours, _Tohsaka_ ," Shirou said, a little more coldly than he intended. But he didn't like Rin Tohsaka for a number of reasons, not least of which that she didn't even try to reach out to her sister, beyond token efforts, and even if she didn't know what had happened to Sakura, it still felt like a betrayal to Shirou. That, and his father told him to be wary of her until he knew better: her father was a Magus, after all, and she may have inherited his elitist attitudes. Not to mention her guardian and mentor, Kirei Kotomine.

That, and Rin seemed to take umbrage to the fact that Shirou and Sakura were boyfriend and girlfriend. And that they were rumoured to be lovers. Rumour which was, oddly enough, true…though there were reasons behind that beyond love and lust.

The dark-haired girl seemed shocked and taken aback by Shirou's words, before a scowl came over her face. "And what do you mean by that?" she blustered.

"This is a Magus' handiwork," Shirou said, tapping the magic circle. "Someone set this up here. And I only know of four other Magi who live here off the top of my head…though that number's rising."

Rin, after a moment, decided to restrain her temper, and strode over to the magic circle. "I came here to investigate this myself. Still, I can't believe this. Another Magus…living here all this time. And who are the other three?"

"Sakura and that thing she has to call a grandfather of hers, along with that priest you're stuck with as a guardian and mentor," Shirou said.

"I see," Rin said, before blinking. "Thing?"

"Why should I tell you? You don't take much interest in Sakura," Shirou retorted. "If you did, you'd have helped her years ago. Your Uncle Kariya at least tried."

"How dare you?!" Rin snapped.

"I do dare. Now, do you know anything about this, Little Miss Magus?"

Rin growled, before she glared at the magic circle. "No, I don't recognise it. It's not my handiwork, and the inscriptions are in a language I'm not familiar with."

Shirou frowned. "Erase it?"

"Part of it," Rin said. "Whatever it is, it gives me the creeps, and while I may not be able to erase it all, I might be able to do enough to scupper the plans of whoever placed it here…"

"Now, where's the fun in that?"

The Irish drawl came from above, a man neither Shirou nor Rin noticed perched in the watertank on the roof. Shirou cursed himself for being more focused on Rin in his annoyance with her, or else he might have noticed earlier. The man was tall, lanky, dressed in a blue bodysuit. He had long blue hair tied in a ponytail, a handsome, sardonic face with red eyes, and slitted pupils. Most concerning, however, was the rather long, red spear he had in his hands. Though the vein-like markings had Shirou wondering…

"Are you compensating for something with that spear?"

Rin looked aghast at him, while the Irish man stared at him, before he laughed a barking laugh. "Oh, you know, while I've heard that one more than a few times in my lifetime, it's actually still quite funny. Now, given your conversations, I'm guessin' that you two are Junior Magi, right? Shouldn't you two kiddos be in bed?"

"Oh, you know, I was looking to be like Shinichi Kudo(1)," Shirou snarked, even as he thought of ways to get out of this. "Columbo(2) here was working the same case."

Rin, seeking to regain her authority on the matter, demanded, "Did you do this?"

"As if. It's Magi who do the dirty tricks, lass. Whereas me, well, I'm here to fight. I mean, surely you kids have heard of Servants?"

Shirou paled. It was a possibility he had considered since seeing the Irish man, especially after he met his sister the other night…but now he knew for certain… "Crap. Rin, please tell me you've summoned one by now and he or she can cover our retreat."

"Oh, so _now_ we're on a first-name basis when we're threatened with being killed!" Rin snapped.

"I can get away just fine! But I don't know about you," Shirou said. "Have you?"

"Yes!"

The Irish man, whom Shirou was willing to bet was a Lancer (the big, penis-substitute spear was a fairly big clue), laughed. "You think you can get away from me, boyo?"

"Not normally," spoke a voice, seemingly out of thin air, before a man materialised next to Rin. "But I think I can buy them a little time. You sure you want to help a fellow Magus who might be your next enemy?" This last bit was addressed to Rin.

The man was tall, with tanned skin and snow white hair, dressed in black armour, with red trousers and a similarly-coloured item of clothing that was somewhere between a coat and a mantle. His features seemed oddly familiar to Shirou, though he couldn't understand why. His expression was stern, hard.

Rin scowled, or at least more than she was already, and said, "Be that as it may, we have a definite enemy in front of us. Buy us time until we can reach a better battlefield." She then looked at Shirou. "I hope you know Reinforcement, Emiya."

"And more," Shirou said. As they fled down the staircase and back into the school proper, Shirou used Reinforcement on his legs, and indeed the rest of his body, Rin doing the same. Their speed wasn't quite at Servant levels, but it was better than most.

They scrambled down the fire escape, before fleeing the school, just in time to find Lancer and Rin's Servant leaping down from the roof. They were soon joined in battle, and Shirou had to at least watch on in awe. Their fight was beyond human limits, at ridiculous speeds. Some of their blows sent shockwaves that blasted dust into the air.

"Merlin, I wish I had some popcorn," Shirou muttered. "Dad told me the stories, but…"

"Dad? So your name isn't a coincidence?" Rin demanded.

"If by that, you mean he was Kiritsugu Emiya, then no, it's not a coincidence. But why the hell is this starting up again so soon?" This last was spoken more quietly.

He'd known it was happening ever since he got the call from his big sister, and it had only been confirmed when he saw the markings on Sakura's hand…and on his own…a marking he had concealed with makeup. Sakura, to his knowledge, was yet to summon a Servant: they had agreed that they were going to collaborate during this Grail War, and they were going to do the summoning together if possible. His big sister was still on the fence: her family held considerable sway, and hadn't bought the warning he had given to them, courtesy of his father. But at least she wasn't going to kill him.

"You mean the Grail War?" Rin asked.

"Well, I wasn't talking about a Street Fighter tournament," Shirou snarked.

A chuckle came from Rin's Servant. "I like the cut of his jib," he said, as he deflected another blow from Lancer. Shirou frowned. While the man was using a pair of swords he had summoned through what was probably Projection, Shirou couldn't be sure that was a Saber. In fact, he hoped this man in red and black wasn't. Because that would prove problematic.

"I'm sure you do, Archer," Rin said acidly, answering that question.

"I'm glad one of us is amused," Lancer said with his own scowl. "But what kind of stupid bloody Archer fights with a pair of swords? Are you mockin' me?"

Archer merely smirked, ever-so-slightly, not quite confirming or denying the accusation.

"And are you gonna leave a witness around?" Lancer continued.

"Uh, actually, it's not against the rules for a non-Master to witness if they're a Magus," Shirou said.

Before Lancer could retort, there was a noise of chains clanking, and something like a nail or a dagger on a chain whipped out of the darkness, Lancer barely deflecting the blow. "Oh, what now?!" he snapped irritably.

Out of the darkness, a woman, inhumanly beautiful, with long purple hair and dressed in dark, somewhat fetishistic-looking black clothing, landed. Her eyes were covered by something like a rigid blindfold, only serving to make her look like something out of a BDSM wet dream. She wielded a pair of daggers that looked more like oversized nails chained together, the same thing that had attacked Lancer. "I am here to help this one," she said, her voice a lyrical hiss, indicating Shirou.

"By all means, bring it on! I'm all up for a threeway, even with another guy!" Lancer said, baring fang-like canines in a feral grin. Then, he suddenly scowled. "Oh, dammit! Stupid bloody… _tch_. Well, today's your lucky day. My Master doesn't want me to fight more than one person at a time, as much as I want to. Be seeing you!" And with that, he Astralized.

"…That just happened," Shirou muttered.

The purple-haired Servant turned to look at him, insomuch as she could do so without her eyes visible, and said, " _My Master, Sakura, sent me. She is currently waiting at your house._ "

Now, what was surprising about what she said was what she said it in. Shirou had been surprised one day when his father took him to the zoo, and Shirou had struck up a conversation with some of the snakes in the reptile house. There was only one other person Shirou had entrusted with that knowledge…and this Servant had spoken in this snake language, claiming to have been sent by this person.

" _She did?_ " Shirou replied, startled.

" _Yes. Her grandfather forced her to summon me, and nearly handed me to the one called…Shinji._ "

That worm…the one who had managed to trick the other Archery Club members into having Shirou clean the Archery Club instead of him. And Shirou knew that little bit of selfish skiving was nothing compared to what he had been doing to his sister. Adoptive sister, yes, but thanks to what Zouken Matou did to Sakura, she was pretty much a Matou. Shirou was on the verge of murdering the blue-haired little fuck…if he could get away with it.

" _She told me I was to bring you to the ritual circle in your Workshop to summon your Servant_ ," the Servant said. " _My Master had something happen to her during my summoning._ "

Shirou pulled out his phone. In all the excitement, he hadn't noticed it vibrating. An SMS showed, with it saying, _Sent Rider to you. Need you to summon your Servant. ISSIAUTNG_.

That last bit stood for _I Solemnly Swear I Am Up To No Good_. It was a password of sorts, confirming trustworthiness, something that came from his dreams, and something he shared with Sakura. " _Are you Rider?_ " Shirou asked, sending back 'MM' as an acknowledgement.

" _I am._ "

"What the hell are you two hissing about? You sound like a pit of snakes!" Rin snapped.

"It's Parseltongue, girl," Rider said in Japanese. "The language of serpents. Do you wish to go now?"

This last was directed at Shirou, who nodded. "Hey, wait!" Rin said. "You're going to go with this Servant? She could kill you!"

"So could yours. Is he?"

"Depends on whether my Master orders it," Archer said with a shrug.

Rin, after a moment, huffed. "Fine then. But if you know about the Grail War, and you become a Master, know that we're enemies!"

 _Oh, I knew that already, Tohsaka_ , Shirou thought. _I'm not going to kill you if I can help it, but even so, you'd be my enemy if you know what I had in mind for the Grail. And I'm sure as hell not going to go up to meet Kotomine. Dad may not have said much about him, but he said enough_.

Out loud, he said to Rider, "Let's go."

The purple-haired woman nodded, before picking him up, and then leaping away, much to his astonishment…

* * *

Archer, aka the Counter Guardian EMIYA, watched him go. He was confused, admittedly...but something in him was heartened. This version of him was focused on helping Sakura, and while he wasn't enamoured with Rin, he also at least wanted to help her. But there was something about this version of him that seemed less… _broken_. Less… _hollow_. More cynical, and yet…it felt better.

Though how he became a Parseltongue, he had no idea. He certainly didn't have that ability…

* * *

It was odd, travelling by Servant, especially being carried in a near-bridal position in a reversal of usual gender roles. Not that Shirou actually minded. "So," he said as they neared his house, "Sakura's told you what I intend to do?"

"Away from that… _thing_ she calls a grandfather, yes," Rider said. "I only hope that you are telling the truth…or at least that your father was."

They didn't talk the rest of the way, until Rider landed near the entrance to his house, and Shirou was put down. Sakura opened the door shortly before they reached it, and smiled. "Ha…I mean, Shirou."

Shirou frowned. Did she very nearly greet him with another name? There was something about the buxom girl with the violet hair that seemed…off. It was subtle, but it was there. "What's wrong?"

Sakura, after a moment, admitted, "Something happened when I was summoning Rider. Something changed in me. Zouken hasn't noticed it, or if he has, he didn't say anything. Shirou…I think the same thing will happen when you summon your Servant."

"What do you mean?" Shirou asked, worried.

"You know how you and I…we can use magic other than magecraft? And why we have those dreams?" she asked quietly. "I've found out why."

Yes, that was true. They had woken each other a couple of times at night, when they had shared the same bed, and had discussed having strangely similar dreams. And they had been able to use magic that was very different to magecraft.

"So, what is it?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. But…I summoned my Servant. It's about time you summoned yours."

A little uneasily, Shirou nodded, and went inside, hoping that he was still right, and Sakura wasn't going to betray him.

* * *

He was soon in front of the summoning circle, the one drawn up years ago, faded, but still useable. His father had, when Shirou had managed to winkle his past exploits out from him, had shown him this. And that had taken some pestering. Now, he was going to have to use this in earnest, despite his father claiming he would never have to. Sakura stood by, with Rider currently Astralized, to prevent his Servant from attacking.

After a moment, he began channelling mana into the circle, and began the ritual chant. " _Heed my words. My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny. If you heed the Grail's call, and obey my will and reason, then answer my summoning! I hereby swear that I shall be all the good in the world, that I shall defeat all evil in the world! Seventh Heaven clad, and the great words of power, come forth from the circle of bindings, Guardian of the Scales!_ "

And that's when it happened. Even as the circle dissolved into an actinic flare of light, he felt something within his mind burst, like a collapsing dam. And then…he _remembered_.

* * *

It hurt Sakura to see this happen to her beloved, as he clutched his head and emitted a strangled cry of pain. She was by his side in a flash as he sagged to his knees. And as the light faded away, she heard a regal voice ring out. "I ask of you, are you my Master?"

Sakura looked up, and beheld a strange apparition. It was a girl (or else a VERY androgynous boy), perhaps about their age, in her early twenties at most, with blonde hair framing regally beautiful features. Her green eyes, once set in a stern gaze, were now giving way to mild confusion. She was dressed in what looked like a blue armoured dress, complete with breastplate and gauntlets. Her bearing seemed older than her apparent age suggested. Her right hand was apparently clenched over little more than thin air, though ripples of air seemed to show around something she was holding.

"Your Master is feeling a little unwell," Sakura said, garnishing the truth a little. She held up Shirou's hand, showing the Command Seals.

The woman, after a moment, had her eyes flicker down to Sakura's own Command Seals. "Another Master aiding my own?" she asked, disbelief tinging her tone.

"Yes. Are you Saber?"

"Aye."

"Specifically…Arturia?"

Saber's eyes narrowed. "How could you possibly know such a thing?" she asked.

"It's a long story. The short version is, Shirou was adopted by your former Master. There are things we need to explain, but I'm allied with him."

Saber, or rather, Arturia, didn't seem convinced, but she didn't attack. And eventually, Shirou got to his feet. "Oh, Merlin, did anyone else get the number of the Hippogriff that ran me over?" He then looked at Sakura. "I see what you mean. You knew who I was, didn't you, Sakura?"

Sakura nodded. "I did. I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier, Harry."

"Just…call me Shirou, please. But…who were you?"

Sakura smiled sadly. "Well, this time, you've got red hair, Harry…I mean, Shirou. But I knew you would come for me…just like you did in the Chamber of Secrets."

His eyes widened with shock. "No way… _Ginny?_ "

Sakura nodded in acknowledgement. "After all this time…well, we're back together again."

Arturia, after a moment, cleared her throat slightly but pointedly. "My pardon for interrupting what appears to be a reunion of sorts, but I confess myself baffled. Especially as…Sakura, was it? She claimed you to be the adopted son of my former Master." Her green eyes, so much like those that Sakura had once adored in another life, narrowed at that.

"Kiritsugu Emiya, yes," Shirou said. "Look, it's a long story, and I know my dad…wasn't the best Master to you, to say the least. But please, promise to hear me out."

Eventually, Arturia said, "I shall listen."

"Good. Then let's go…"

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, that's why Shirou's acting OOC. He's Harry Potter's reincarnation…and Sakura is Ginny's.**

 **Now, having Shirou being Harry's reincarnation came about as a direct consequence of adapting, albeit loosely, sakurademonalchemist's story** ** _Rebirth of Phoenix_** **. Because Harry went through a lot, even without his memories (beyond some half-remembered dreams and nightmares), Shirou was still influenced by him. Shirou in this story is a fusion of the canon Shirou and a Harry who died during the Battle of Hogwarts, taking Voldemort with him, though this will be made clearer in the next chapter.**

 **As for Sakura, I've been meaning to do a Harry/Sakura story for some time. The poor girl gets a pretty raw deal in** ** _Fate/Zero_** **and** ** _Fate/Stay Night_** **, and I try to rectify that. In** ** _Ex Umbra in Solem_** **and** ** _Light the Blue Touch Paper and Run Like Hell_** **, she gets rescued from the Matous by the protagonists during the events of** ** _Fate/Zero_** **(Harry in the first, and Loki in the second), while in** ** _Gorgon and Thanatos_** **, she is adopted out to Harry instead of Zouken. In** ** _Perils of Magical Investigative Journalism_** **, Harry and Luna rescue her during the events of** ** _Fate/Stay Night_** **.**

 **So, why have her as the reincarnation of Ginny? Well, a few reasons. I felt uncomfortable about pairing a Shirou who had enough memories to effectively have the lifetime of an adult being paired with someone who still was only sixteen or thereabouts, so I decided to make her a reincarnation to make up for that. Another reason I chose Ginny was, well, Hermione didn't seem to suit Sakura. Luna might, at a stretch. But then, considering how enamoured Sakura is with Shirou, being a bit fangirly from my impression of** ** _Fate/Stay Night_** **, well, I thought of Ginny. And if you think Sakura is nothing like Ginny, well, keep in mind that this is a Ginny who had to deal with being abandoned by a supposedly loving family and subjected to rape worms for a decade. Don't worry, we'll get to see her fire now that she has re-awakened her memories. Plus, I haven't done a Harry/Ginny pairing in ANY of my stories, save for a one-shot called** ** _HoneyMoon_** **. Harry/Ginny, as it's a canon pairing, is somewhat boring. This, I hope, adds a bit of spice to the mix.**

 **This is not a Ginny-bashing fic, either. This Ginny has gone through hell…and come out stronger for it. Okay, she is still somewhat broken, thanks to the Matous…but she's going to be Harry's most stalwart defender.**

 **And if you think this is going to be a Rin-bashing fic…well, it might be, if only mildly so. I don't like Rin, though that's probably because I'm not fond of** ** _tsunderes_** **. That, and, well, the distance she keeps from her sister, all for the sake of appearances, even when it's killing them both inside. She's certainly not part of the harem…though if you see the pairings of this story, Arturia and Medusa are.**

 **Oh, and yes, there will be a few other reincarnations.**

 **1\. Aka the protagonist from** ** _Detective Conan_** **, or** ** _Case Closed_** **if you prefer.**

 **2\. Aka the protagonist from** ** _Columbo_** **, as you should know. By basically comparing her to a shabby man in a mac, Shirou's having a jab at Rin's expense.**


	121. Non Omnis Moriar Chapter 2

**Well, here's the next chapter of _Non Omnis Moriar_.**

 **Before I go in, a quick announcement for _The Cauldron_ readers. I am strongly considering a Potterverse crossover (perhaps even multiple ones) with one that I haven't done before, and which hasn't really been done in any substantial way on this website, beyond a couple of Gamer95's Project Motherhood stories (and even those are below 10K words, as of writing). Like _Zen and the Art of Magical Bonding Between Former Child Soldiers_ , it's a crossover with a Capcom fighting game series. Only, this one's a better mesh with the Potterverse.**

 **I'm talking about _Darkstalkers_.**

 **Keep in mind, it's early days yet, but some time in the near future, I may be writing a Potterverse/ _Darkstalkers_ story, with a tentative pairing of Harry/Morrigan.**

* * *

 _ **NON OMNIS MORIAR**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **(RE)INCARNATIONS**

Even now, the last moments of that life were something of a blur. He only had impressions of his last hours of life as Harry Potter. Of seeing Ginny, raped and murdered, her mutilated body left in the Great Hall as a warning to everyone who would defy Voldemort. Of learning the truth about his Horcrux. Of making a suicidal attack against Voldemort…by tapping into every last drop of his magic…with explosive results. When he arrived at Kings Cross Station, or at least a limbo version of it, he was satisfied to see the glass-lined crater that remained. Of the argument he had with Dumbledore's shade, before deciding to get on the next train…

…And now, here he was, sandwiched between three formerly dead girls. Two of them Servants, the spirits of heroes from myth and legend, aka Heroic Spirits, summoned into new bodies. One of them was none other than THE King Arthur…who was a girl, in _this_ universe at least.

While he had been Harry Potter in that past life, he still thought of himself as Shirou Emiya. It was ironic that his adoptive father treated him far better than the Dursleys did…though he felt guilty about that when he thought of Ginny, who had been raised by a loving family in one life…only to be discarded by another in this one. And then subjected to a decade of horror.

The quartet were seated around the table in the dining room. Eventually, Arturia seemed to tire of waiting, and asked, "Master, I would like to hear your story."

"Firstly, Arturia, please call me Shirou. This is my girlfriend, Sakura Matou. And this is Rider. Who is…?"

Rider shot Sakura a look, only for the violet-haired girl to nod. "She's our ally, Rider."

"Very well. I am Medusa."

Arturia stared at the Rider Servant, as did Shirou…who then remarked, "Huh. Well, you're not what I had in mind when I thought Medusa…though that explains the blindfold and the Parseltongue. Geez, what's with all the female Servants being as good looking as Sakura is?"

Both Arturia and Medusa choked slightly at the assessment, while Sakura blushed a little, smiling softly at his praise. Shirou knew that the girl had self-esteem issues. Well, more of a subscription, really, but who could blame her? She had been adopted out of her birth family, with her mother and sister barely protesting, she had been infested with Crest Worms since the age of six (and given that they effectively raped females, that was horrific beyond belief: Shirou wasn't sure how she survived through that even remotely sane), and was raped by her brother.

When Shirou had found out a few months ago, he was furious, but Sakura didn't want to get the police involved, for practical reasons: Zouken would simply erase their memories and arrange for any paperwork to simply disappear…before punishing Sakura. And there was a method to Zouken's vile orders other than psychological abuse: the Crest Worms needed to be subdued by carnal activity, lest they ruin Sakura's body in their hunger. So, as much as it stuck in Shirou's craw to do so, he made a deal with the decrepit old Magus: he would take care of Sakura in the same manner, only with her consent.

Sakura had been astonished: she never thought that Shirou would ever want her in her condition. But after considerable discussion, they agreed to the arrangement. And, if anything, Sakura and Shirou were happy that their friendship, which had been growing already for quite some time, had grown even more. In fact, the only one really unhappy with the relationship was Shinji, but given that he only wanted his little toy to abuse and play with. Zouken had warned Shirou, though, that if Shinji came to any substantial harm, there would be consequences.

Pranks, however, were perfectly fine, even if they led to an occasional broken bone.

Shirou wasn't going to let this state of affairs continue forever, though. One day, he intended to deal with Zouken for once and for all, along with Shinji. Once, when discussing what it meant to be a Hero of Justice with his father, Shirou wondered whether one could save everybody. Or more to the point, whether one should?

His father, that day, had warned Shirou against walking the path he once did. The path that led Kiritsugu Emiya to be feared and reviled as the Magus Killer. And Shirou knew he wouldn't. Kiritsugu would willingly, if reluctantly, kill thousands of innocents if it served the Greater Good…a phrase Shirou hated for some reason.

But people like Zouken and Shinji? Yeah, if he could ensure that Zouken could stay dead, Shirou would do it.

"Anyway, firstly, Arturia, I want to offer an apology on behalf of my father. I found out about what happened last time. And he had a suspicion that you would remember. He didn't think I would be pulled into another Grail War, but…he told me to tell you he was sorry, as much as he knew you wouldn't be happy about that."

Arturia's lips thinned, but she nodded. "Aye, I do remember your…father. Forgive me, Shirou, but I do not have kind words to say about him, save for the devotion he showed his wife and child. I accept that your apology on his behalf is sincere, but I would rather not talk of him."

"I'm sorry, but we have to," Shirou said. "Did you ever wonder why he ordered you to destroy the Grail?"

Arturia blinked in shock. It clearly didn't occur to the Saber Servant that there might actually be a reason. "No. But…"

"There was a reason. I know you may not believe me, but I think he was telling the truth, as much as he could. He told me the Grail was contaminated, that any wish made on it would only cause a catastrophe. He said something about meeting his wife, Irisviel, in the Grail. Only, she wasn't. She called herself Angra Mainyu, and tried to tempt him into ending the world, with only Irisviel and Illyasviel still alive. He rejected the wish, and she cursed him. He died five years ago, five years after the last Grail War."

Arturia blinked in shock again. "Only a decade has passed since the previous Grail War? But then…"

"Yeah, Sakura and I are still working out why too. The best theory we have is that the Grail being destroyed prematurely did something, and it only took a decade to recharge."

Arturia frowned in thought, before she said, "You say this…entity within the Grail called itself Angra Mainyu…but is that not a Zoroastrian deity, sometimes known as Ahriman? I thought those could not be summoned by the Grail as a Servant."

"Under certain circumstances, they can," Medusa said. "I myself am a fallen deity, of sorts, and demigods can also be summoned."

"Dad did some digging. Apparently the von Einzberns summoned an eighth class during the Third Holy Grail War, Avenger, and they summoned Angra Mainyu. He couldn't prove it, especially not to the satisfaction of those idiots in Clock Tower, never mind the von Einzberns. I had a hard enough time persuading them to let me meet my big sister instead of killing me." Shirou sighed. "Anyway, he thought he was saving the world by forcing you to destroy it. But Angra Mainyu was a sore loser. The Grail spewed out some stuff that pretty much set a good chunk of Fuyuki on fire. I was one of the survivors. Even now, I can't remember what my life was like before that fire…in this life, anyway."

"In _this_ life?" Medusa asked.

"Long story. Anyway, I was staggering through that fire, doing little more than surviving, before I pretty much, well, gave up. And then, he came along, looking for someone to save…and he found me. He looked so happy to have saved me, Arturia. That's how badly things had affected him. I only remembered my given name, Shirou. He saved my life, and brought me to a hospital. Eventually, he offered to adopt me. As my parents were missing, presumed dead in the fire…I accepted. My memories before the fire were pretty much burned away. As for how he saved me…well, there's a reason I was able to summon you, Arturia." With that, he gently removed from his body a familiar wedge of gold, with intricate designs on it.

Arturia stared at it in wonder and nostalgia. "Avalon…"

"Yes. Excalibur's sheathe," Shirou said. "I have you to thank for saving my life Arturia, as much as Dad." He replaced it.

"I see," Arturia said. After some time, she said, "While I cannot accept all of your story on face value, especially as the one supplying the information through you did not see fit to trust my judgement, I am considering it regardless. Though if it is true…then why summon me again, if it is to destroy the Grail, and with it, my wish anew?"

"Arturia…you are a knight, right? Would you wish to leave a great evil unvanquished?" Shirou asked simply. He didn't want to manipulate her…or at least do so the way Dumbledore did in his old life.

She looked up at him sharply. Then, she nodded. "Very well. While I would wish to find out more myself, I concede your point."

"Hey, don't worry. I'm not going to treat you like Dad did. He told me doing so…he regretted it until the day he died. And I'm not going to use a Command Seal unless absolutely necessary," Shirou said, holding up his hand, showing said Command Seals. "Merlin, they're like having an instant Imperius, aren't they?" he muttered, more to himself. Shaking his head to get rid of that disturbing thought, he then said, "There's also one thing you should know in confidence, Arturia…and I have to ask, how do you feel? Is the mana supply good?"

Arturia seemed surprised by the question, before she nodded. "It is. Indeed, it feels better than it did with…your father."

"The same goes for me," Medusa said. "I was surprised at the reserves being given to me by Sakura. Highly unusual for Magi."

"That's because, well, we're not just Magi," Shirou said. "Sakura is a gifted Magus for her age, but me…well, thanks to being an Incarnation with my element and origin being Sword, my magecraft tends to go awry unless I'm using Structural Analysis, Projection, or Reinforcement." With that, he concentrated, and Projected a copy of Medusa's weapon. "Of course, this is just a crude copy, just made from looking at it…but if I used Structural Analysis on it first, I could, potentially, make a perfect copy. Sakura and I even think I might be, over time, able to copy Noble Phantasms, though the few times I tried with Avalon…let's just say that I was lucky to just have a splitting headache at the end of it."

"We think that was partly because Avalon was created by the Fae," Sakura said.

Arturia was looking on in astonishment, perhaps even awe. "A highly-specialised Incarnation…and potentially capable of copying Noble Phantasms. If you were ever a Heroic Spirit, you would be a formidable opponent…"

* * *

EMIYA sneezed, and frowned. "I thought Servants couldn't catch diseases," Rin asked snidely. "Or is someone talking about you behind your back?"

"Probably. I'm a Heroic Spirit after all, a lot of people would talk about me…"

* * *

"But it also means Shirou cannot learn other magecraft," Sakura said. "However, other magic is another matter."

"Other…magic?" Arturia asked.

Shirou smiled impishly, before waving a hand. To Arturia's astonishment, glasses emerged from the cupboards of the nearby kitchen, filled themselves with water from the sink, and then placed themselves on the table in front of them. Arturia stared. "…Merlin used to do such things as parlour tricks," she murmured finally. "But I did not think modern Magi would dare use their magic for something so trivial, even if that was possible."

"That's because it's not magecraft," Sakura said. "It's closer to True Magic, or at least magic as used in the Age of the Gods. It can't emulate the known True Magics, like Kaleidoscope or Heaven's Feel, but unlike magecraft, it is less affected by the World. Not to mention that it seems to be based more on a magical core rather than Magic Circuits. It seems less…abhorrent to Gaia."

Arturia considered this. Eventually, she said, "Regardless of the truth of your words, you seem like a more than competent Master, Shirou. I sincerely hope that our partnership is on much better terms than the one I had with your father. Do you know any healing magic?"

"A little. If things look dicey before a battle, I'll give Avalon back to you. That'd probably be better. Sakura knows healing magic too, of the magecraft variety."

"I see." Arturia's eyes flickered over to Sakura, and nodded. "Very well. Do either of you have intelligence on enemy Servants?"

Sakura looked over to Shirou. "I encountered two tonight, not counting those in this room. While I was investigating a possible Bounded Field on the roof, Rin Tohsaka showed up with an Archer Servant. Tanned skin, white hair…scarily skilled at using two short swords he created through Projection. We were accosted by a Lancer Servant. He had blue hair, red eyes, and wielded a single, red spear. Had an Irish accent too."

"It could not have been Diarmuid of the Love Spot," Arturia mused. "He did not match the description, and I fought him myself in the prior Grail War. There are a number of Irish spearmen who could have become Lancers." Her face fell at what was presumably an unhappy memory. Shirou remembered that his father alluded to doing something cruel to the Master of Lancer, Lord El-Melloi, something Arturia had objected to.

"The Lancer seemed excited by fighting more than one opponent," Medusa supplied. "His Master recalled him, though."

"The Archer, he did not have blonde hair and golden armour?" Arturia asked. "I know how you described him, but the Archer of the previous Grail War…"

"No, it wasn't Gilgamesh. He didn't call me a mongrel or anything," Shirou said. "Also, I know for a fact that my big sister summoned a Berserker, and she was bragging that he was Heracles. I don't want to fight that walking embodiment of 'roid rage yet."

"Big…sister?"

"There's only two people Shirou calls 'big sister'. There's his guardian, Taiga Fujimura, and there's his adopted sister, Illyasviel von Einzbern," Sakura explained patiently. "He's talking about Illya."

"Illya…Kiritsugu and Irisviel's daughter," Arturia mused, her expression becoming mildly rueful. "She is a Master now too?"

"Yeah. I tried warning the von Einzberns about the Grail, but they didn't listen. Illya's a bit more willing, but she's still going to participate. Sakura and I are the only Masters set on destroying the Grail."

"Still, that means Caster and Assassin are unaccounted for as of yet, and those are ones you should be wary of," Arturia pointed out.

"Zouken told me that Caster was summoned some time ago, and Assassin not so long ago," Sakura said. "Which means the Holy Grail War has begun in earnest, more or less."

"If I may," Medusa began. Getting attention on her, she said, "The sigil at the school was my doing. Zouken Matou wished for me to prepare one of my Noble Phantasms, Blood Fort Andromeda, as a back-up plan. When activated, it would convert those present into mana for myself, at the cost of their lives. I should have mentioned this sooner. However, I altered the sigil. As it is my Noble Phantasm, I can change elements of it. It will no longer have a lethal or even harmful effect. My apologies for not speaking of this sooner."

Shirou looked at Medusa in a little irritation. Eventually, he said, "That's fine. But it's probably going to be erased by Tohsaka before long."

"It's not the only sigil at the school. All erasing that one will do is delay the time until I can activate my Noble Phantasm," Medusa confessed.

"Another thing to worry about is where the Grail will materialise," Shirou said. "Dad told me of the four most likely points…"

Arturia nodded. "He told me that information too. We are close to one point, there is one at the church of the Overseer, a third is at Tohsaka Manor, and the final one is at Ryuudou Temple."

"I will do reconnaissance of the temple," Medusa said. "If Astralized, I can make my way there swiftly, and then retreat if there is any sign of a Servant being present."

"Would you be able to do so tonight?" Sakura asked. "I trust Arturia to keep us both safe while you are gone."

Medusa nodded. "I will do so forthwith. I won't take any risks, Sakura. Goodbye." And with that, she faded from view.

Arturia seemed to relax slightly. "It seems yet again I face a Rider from Greece. Last time, it was Iskandar."

"AKA Alexander the Great," Shirou muttered. Louder, he said, "Arturia, you shouldn't have to face her at all. I trust Sakura, and she trusts me. And I trust your honour as the King of Knights. Dad may have disdained that honour, but I don't."

"And neither do I," Sakura said. "I remember…the Servant my Uncle Kariya summoned. Zouken told me later…it was Lancelot."

Arturia looked at her sharply. "Your uncle…he was the one who was Master of Berserker in the previous Grail War?"

Sakura nodded sadly. "He promised to rescue me. He…couldn't keep the promise. A part of me hated him for doing so. But…at least he tried. Until Shirou came along, nobody else did."

"My apologies," Arturia said sincerely. "It was a shock to find my own comrade as an enemy…indeed, perhaps it was the most profound shock I suffered during that Grail War. His desire to rescue you was a noble one, then."

"Sakura…was in a bad situation. She still is," Shirou explained. "She thinks of me as a knight in shining armour." He punctuated this statement with a sardonic chuckle. "I haven't quite rescued the fair maiden from the monster's den, but I'm working on it. Then again, he's more tenacious than Voldemort."

"But we will deal with him soon, my love," Sakura said, before yawning. "We'd better go to bed. We'll have to deal with some things in the morning…"

Arturia nodded, but Shirou knew she was a little at sea with this whole thing. He hoped he would be able to persuade her to help him destroy the Grail, not just for his father, and the mother he never got to meet, Irisviel, but for the sake of the world. Distantly, he heard a memory from another life, of a bushy-haired girl berating him for his 'saving people thing'. _Oh, Hermione, you're more right than you ever knew_ …

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Shirou and Sakura have explained things to Arturia, and Medusa's gone off to do some reconnaissance. What next, though?**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	122. Nocturne (Original) Chapter 1

**I promised a _Darkstalkers_ crossover, and here it is, as a sort of belated Halloween chapter for _The Cauldron_. I was trying out all sorts of challenges (some from DZ2, others from Dis Lexic) as a hook for the plot, but none of them seemed to work...until I looked through Anubis of The Highway Thieves' challenges. Namely 'It Followed Me Home', where Harry gains a familiar, and while mostly dangerous creatures were in the criteria, Succubi were allowed. Now, while Morrigan is over three centuries old in _Darkstalkers_ canon, here, she is Harry's age (which is 16, despite being set in Year 5). I'm also using a hybrid of the game's mythos and the Udon comics. There will be other Darkstalkers in this story, but the focus is on a Harry/Morrigan pairing.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy.**

 **EDIT (NOVEMBER 3, 2017): Yep, this is yet another sample chapter getting the revision treatment. I'm grateful for the positive response to this story, but I just realised, there was a better way of introducing Harry and Morrigan than mere happenstance...or at least happenstance in a physical meeting. Keep an eye out for the revised chapter later.**

* * *

 _ **NOCTURNE (ORIGINAL)  
**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **SUCCUBUS AND WIZARD**

 _Darkstalkers_.

This name, not generally known in common parlance, is a catch-all term for non-human beings who are considered dark or demonic, by both magical authorities, and the mundane ones who are aware of their existence. Vampires, werewolves, Succubi, along with demons of many stripes, the undead, catgirls…whether they prey on humanity, or try to co-exist, they are frequently tarred with the same brush. Generally, Dark Creatures in general fall under this banner, as long as they are considered somewhat sentient…and malevolent. Even if they aren't truly evil, but instead are somewhat inclined to violence.

There are many kinds of Darkstalker. There are many varieties of vampire and werewolf, for example, and there are many forms of the undead. The various magical authorities have a fairly hard time covering things up, though they also find it merely better to allow some mundanes to hunt them.

To consort with a Darkstalker is to invite death, if not from the Darkstalker themselves, then from those who hunt them. Some hunters do it to make the world a better place. Others do it for money, or for sadism, or (in the case of a deceptively-dressed girl who seems to have a thing for looking like Red Riding Hood) both.

Not all Darkstalkers are evil. Some are as good as any sentient being can be. Others are just amoral rather than immoral. But there are many who do not, cannot, or will not make the distinction.

The night is dark and filled with terrors, so they say, and not all of them are Darkstalkers. This is the story of how a group of wizards who hid in the night found themselves caught short when the night was reclaimed by those who always possessed it…and how the Light made its biggest blunder…

* * *

Morrigan Aensland was sixteen years old, and bored out of her skull. She had had enough of her father's lessons and lectures, the admonishments of her caretakers, and the sheer ennui that came with her existence. A common malady amongst humans in general, and teenagers in particular.

However, Morrigan Aensland was not human.

She was a Succubus, one of the most powerful in existence, and certainly the most powerful for her age. Then again, what else should you expect from the daughter of the strongest Lord of the Demon Realm, sometimes known as Makai? Up to now, she had subsisted on the dreams of men and women she had entered, feeding from within their dreams. But soon, she would need to do more. And she was certainly looking forward to it, feeding on the souls of the living while giving them one last prolonged moment of bliss…and then giving their souls eternal pleasure within her own self.

Of course, her father Belial was leery about this, if only because she had a habit of going to the human world whenever she pleased. It was less over-protectiveness, as she was more than capable of dealing with any hunter of Darkstalkers, the Night Warriors, who crossed her path. No, it was simply because he didn't like her having fun. He claimed that it was because she was meant to be comporting herself according to her station as heir to the ruler of Makai, but she personally thought it was because he was a bloody killjoy.

Which was why she was going for a stroll in the human world. Not in her standard form, but as a human. As a tall, slender teenaged girl, her usually green hair changed to a light brown. Though why she was strutting through some suburban nightmare of a place in England during a heatwave, she didn't know. Oh wait, she did. She randomised the portal she had taken somewhat, in order to confound her father and her servants. Still, she would have preferred London at the very least: she could have gone for a night on the town when it got dark, and there were plenty of things to see. And she knew to keep an eye out for various Night Warriors, the hunters of Darkstalkers.

That being said, _something_ was drawing her here. It was odd, that draw. Like a gentle tug of gravity, leading her somewhere. And she wondered why.

She soon got her answer.

As she turned a corner, she found herself nearly bumping into someone. "Oh, sorry," grumbled the person sullenly, seemingly lost in thought.

Morrigan, however, was blinking. In that moment of contact, she felt…something. A spark between them. She soon realised why. The person she bumped into was a wizard. What she felt was a slight magical discharge, when beings from Makai were brought into physical contact with a mage. "Oh? I thought I felt you copping a feel, there," she said. This got him to whirl to face her in shock.

Hmm. Not too bad. A bit scrawny, Morrigan thought as she appraised him. The boy was about her age, she'd wager, with a messy mop of black hair, from under which a scar, shaped like a lightning bolt, snaked. Emerald eyes stared at her in confusion. "Sorry, I didn't do it deliberately," he protested.

"That's what they all say, but I know better." As his panic grew, she snorted. "Calm down. I'm just messing with you," she said with a smirk. "You didn't touch anything inappropriate. You all right there? You seemed deep in thought."

A scowl came across his features. "It's none of your business."

"Oh? Well, I'm making it mine. Of all the people to run into, I run into a wizard being all mopey."

The boy seemed to freeze, and Morrigan held up her hands. "Hey, I'm not looking to start trouble."

He jumped back, pulling out a wand. "Oh, really? Are you working for Voldemort?"

Voldemort? Oh, right, that warlock her father mentioned in her lessons. He had made a few dodgy deals with some of the lesser clans of the Makai, and they had been looking to collect. Wasn't he vanquished by some baby fifteen years ago or something?

"Keep that thing in your pants," Morrigan scoffed. "You haven't even bought me a drink first. Besides, if I was working for Voldemort…" She sank into a shadow, darted between his legs, and then appeared behind him, grabbing him with one hand as he whirled to face her (nice instincts and reflexes), and brought her face in close as she plucked his wand from him, "I'd have skipped the foreplay by now. I'd have taken my time with you, but you'd be in my power anyway at this point. Hmm, maybe I should do that anyway. I'm bored, and I'm looking for some fun. You know of anything fun to do around here? I mean, aside from vandalising the local neighbourhood? I swear, if I see another house that looked like they cloned it in a vat, I will raze it all to the ground. Oh, and incidentally…" She handed his wand back, though not before whispering, "Nice, long, and firm. Just the way I like it."

He snatched it from her, blushing furiously. "What is _wrong_ with you?" he hissed back.

"Like I said, I'm bored, and I want to have some fun. Don't you?"

"I would if I could," he muttered mutinously. "But even on my birthday, I'm not allowed to."

"Oh! It's your birthday! Even better!" Morrigan said with a broad smile. "You shouldn't be so ornery on your birthday. What're you? 15? 16?"

"…16," he said.

"Ooh, so am I! See, you shouldn't be like that! Sweet sixteen, and, uh, never been kissed, is that how you humans put it?"

"…You humans?" he asked, stepping away slightly, only for Morrigan to grab his wrist. Maybe he wouldn't be nourishment…but maybe she'd have a bit of fun with him anyway, even if it was of a more mundane variety.

"Let's go celebrate," she grinned, before opening up a portal, and pulling the boy in after her…

* * *

…And then, they were elsewhere. Morrigan pursed her lips as she took in the surroundings. "Hmm, not bad. Have you ever been to Blackpool Pleasure Beach before? I've only been once before."

"…What the hell did you just do? That didn't feel like a Portkey," the boy protested.

"It's not Apparition either," Morrigan said cheerfully. "Otherwise, you'd be feeling a lot more uncomfortable."

"I can believe that," the boy snarked. "But how did we get to Blackpool?"

"Magic. Well, my sort of magic. Anyway, have you ever been here before?"

"No."

"Well, let's remedy that, shall we? Oh, I didn't catch your name, by the way."

"…You know about wizards, and you don't recognise me?"

"Should I?"

"…I'm Harry Potter?"

Morrigan pursed her lips, thinking. That rang a bell. Oh, wait, that was the babe who supposedly vanquished Voldemort. Wow, he was easy on the eyes. "I see. Well, I'm Morrigan Aensland. You probably haven't heard of my family. We're famous in certain circles, but I doubt a teenage wizard would have heard of them."

"Oh."

"Well then, if there's no further objections, let's have some fun…"

* * *

And it was fun. Gradually, little by little, Harry loosened up. Morrigan had to admit, it was kind of cute, seeing him relax and act like a teenager. If he was really in danger from Voldemort, it was little wonder he was so tense.

And that gave Morrigan the germ of an idea, a germ that grew gradually, until it became a notion. It was possibly foolish, and it'd piss off her father something fierce…but she found herself not giving a shit. After all, Morrigan was looking for some excitement in her life. And it wasn't like these fools could kill her if she didn't let them. The Killing Curse was powerful, but while it could kill most demons of Makai, the strongest ones, even as young as Morrigan herself, wouldn't be killed by it, unless they were weakened.

So, after going on a number of rides, which she had to admit excited her a little, Harry asked the inevitable question. "Why are you doing this?" he asked as they walked down a path, cotton candy in hand.

"On a whim. You seemed like the sort who needed a wee bit of happiness in your life. Besides, like I said, I was bored. I still am. I need some excitement in my life. I'm…royalty, I suppose you could say."

"Really?" Harry asked sceptically.

"Oh yes, it's true," Morrigan said.

"And…what you said earlier about not being human…?"

"Oh, yes, right. I guess you could call my kind in general Darkstalkers. The things that go bump in the night. That's not a species, by the way. It just something what you humans call us sometimes. Most of the time, you wizards just call us Dark Creatures. You know, like vampires, werewolves, demons, the undead, that sort of thing. Anyway, I want to make you an offer…and as you humans say, it's an offer you can't refuse."

"And why is that?"

"Well, leaving aside the fact that the Killing Curse doesn't really affect me, well, what you'd like is protection against Voldemort and his cronies. I want to alleviate my boredom. Therefore, I think we can come to some sort of arrangement. Maybe you can consider it a birthday present…" And with that, she pulled him through yet another portal…

* * *

Harry was confused by this girl. At times, she set off his instincts for danger, and yet, at other times, he felt he could trust her, paradoxically. If she was going to kill him, she would have done so earlier. In fact, he knew that she could have, given her ability to sink into shadows, and then come up behind him.

He still had a vague feeling of being near a predator, one that was playing with her food, so when she took him through a portal, and into a room that seemed like it was an opulent bedroom in a castle, he felt no anger anymore, just resignation. Something told him he was in her territory.

But in a way, he didn't care anymore. His friends hadn't written to him much, neither had Sirius or anyone else, and he had been stuck at the Dursleys, with no news of Voldemort. Frankly, this was the best birthday he had ever had in his life, thanks to this girl he just met. Nobody had done anything for him like she had done, just upped and taken him out somewhere for his birthday…unless going to the Quidditch World Cup last year counted as a belated birthday present.

Still, it seemed like it was time to pay the piper. But if this Morrigan girl was going to turn on him, then he was going to go down fighting.

"What's this…arrangement?" Harry asked.

Morrigan smiled. Then, a swarm of bats surrounded her body. When the bats dispersed, almost everything about her had changed. She had been wearing jeans and a shirt, and her face and hair style was the same. But everything else? She had green hair, wearing something like a black leotard that nonetheless exposed a lot more of her buxom body than it should, the neckline lined with what looked like feathers. Her legs were covered in stockings that had bat-like images printed on them. A pair of bat-like wings protruded from her back, and a much smaller pair protruded from her head. Her face was beautiful, inhumanly so, and her light green eyes twinkled with mischief. She was, frankly, bloody hot, and he felt himself getting aroused, despite himself.

"You see, Harry Potter, I am a Succubus," Morrigan said. "I am also the heiress apparent to Makai, the demon realm. And my proposal is such: I will become your familiar, your bodyguard…" Her smile became a more lustful smirk. "…And your lover. So, what say you?"

Oh, what the possibly-literal Hell had he gotten himself into now?

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry and Morrigan have met up, and Morrigan has an interesting proposal for Harry. But will he take her up on it? And what will Belial think?**

 **Now, keep in mind, Harry's not trusting Morrigan per se straight away. Rather, he's in a bit of a bad place, thanks to Cedric's death and the lack of communications with his friends, so, after Morrigan got the drop on him, he sort of resigned himself to getting dragged along for the ride. And considering he'll get bedded by Morrigan soon, he might loosen up a little too.**

 **Incidentally, we will have other** ** _Darkstalkers_** **characters appear, never fear. Jon Talbain will definitely appear, and maybe Felicia and Hsien-Ko.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	123. Nocturne (Revised) Chapter 1

**Okay, here's the revised version of _Nocturne_ 's first chapter. I think this works better in how Harry and Morrigan met.  
**

* * *

 _ **NOCTURNE (REVISED)**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **SUCCUBUS AND WIZARD**

 _Darkstalkers_.

This name, not generally known in common parlance, is a catch-all term for non-human beings who are considered dark or demonic, by both magical authorities, and the mundane ones who are aware of their existence. Vampires, werewolves, Succubi, along with demons of many stripes, the undead, catgirls…whether they prey on humanity, or try to co-exist, they are frequently tarred with the same brush. Generally, Dark Creatures in general fall under this banner, as long as they are considered somewhat sentient…and malevolent. Even if they aren't truly evil, but instead are somewhat inclined to violence.

There are many kinds of Darkstalker. There are many varieties of vampire and werewolf, for example, and there are many forms of the undead. The various magical authorities have a fairly hard time covering things up, though they also find it merely better to allow some mundanes to hunt them.

To consort with a Darkstalker is to invite death, if not from the Darkstalker themselves, then from those who hunt them. Some hunters do it to make the world a better place. Others do it for money, or for sadism, or (in the case of a deceptively-dressed girl who seems to have a thing for looking like Red Riding Hood) both.

Not all Darkstalkers are evil. Some are as good as any sentient being can be. Others are just amoral rather than immoral. But there are many who do not, cannot, or will not make the distinction.

The night is dark and filled with terrors, so they say, and not all of them are Darkstalkers. This is the story of how a group of wizards who hid in the night found themselves caught short when the night was reclaimed by those who always possessed it…and how the Light made its biggest blunder…

* * *

 _Once more, he was forced to see Cedric die._

 _Once more, he was forced to see Voldemort rise from the cauldron, reborn._

 _Once more, he was forced to fight to the death, barely escaping with his life._

 _He was on the verge of waking up, screaming, when soothing arms gently wrapped themselves around him. Naked arms. And then, sweet breath on his neck. The sensation of two fleshy orbs pressing into his naked back. When it happened the first time, he had understandably panicked. Now…he was merely grateful. Because it meant **she** was here. Comforting him, when nobody else would. She had haunted his dreams for nearly three weeks now…and he was grateful for it._

 _"It's okay," breathed a gentle, sultry voice with a faint Scottish burr. "I'm here again." Large, bat-like wings folded around them both._

 _For a moment, they floated in the dark void together. Her presence was soothing. In fact, he had come to enjoy her presence…though whether she was a figment of his imagination or not, he didn't know._

 _A faint chuckle near his ears. "I'm not, you know. A figment of your imagination. Dreams are as real to me as reality is. After all, I feed on dreams. Your mind, your dreams and nightmares, they fascinate me. But…well, I can't say I know how it feels like to be you, save through your memories."_

 _"Then why are you here?"_

 _"I feed on dreams, Harry Potter. And on many other things. But you've gained my attention. I bore easily, and your life, while hard, is still interesting. Ugh, I wish I didn't skip out on Father's lessons about wizards, I would have recognised you sooner. Actually, it's your birthday today, isn't it? 16 years old…well, so am I."_

 _Harry was released from her embrace, and turned to face the naked girl behind him. She had green hair. A pair of bat-like wings protruded from her back, and a much smaller pair protruded from her head. Her face was beautiful, inhumanly so, and her light green eyes twinkled with mischief. She was, frankly, bloody hot, and he felt himself getting aroused, despite himself._

 _She smirked, and then purred, "In fact, I might just come around and give you a nice wee present…"_

* * *

Morrigan Aensland was sixteen years old, and bored out of her skull. She had had enough of her father's lessons and lectures, the admonishments of her caretakers, and the sheer ennui that came with her existence. A common malady amongst humans in general, and teenagers in particular.

However, Morrigan Aensland was not human.

She was a Succubus, one of the most powerful in existence, and certainly the most powerful for her age. Then again, what else should you expect from the daughter of the strongest Lord of the Demon Realm, sometimes known as Makai? Up to now, she had subsisted on the dreams of men and women she had entered, feeding from within their dreams. But soon, she would need to do more. And she was certainly looking forward to it, feeding on the souls of the living while giving them one last prolonged moment of bliss…and then giving their souls eternal pleasure within her own self.

Of course, her father Belial was leery about this, if only because she had a habit of going to the human world whenever she pleased. It was less over-protectiveness, as she was more than capable of dealing with any hunter of Darkstalkers, the Night Warriors, who crossed her path. No, it was simply because he didn't like her having fun. He claimed that it was because she was meant to be comporting herself according to her station as heir to the ruler of Makai, but she personally thought it was because he was a bloody killjoy.

Which was why she was going for a stroll in the human world, through the suburban nightmare of some godawful town in Surrey called Little Whinging. Not in her standard form, but as a human. As a tall, slender teenaged girl, her usually green hair changed to a light brown. She wore a T-Shirt with the image from the cover of one of Meat Loaf's albums, and jeans.

While it was tempting to home in on her new little interesting hobby magically, she wanted to be cautious, just in case. She knew her little hobby was a wizard, and they could be tricky. Not that she had anything to worry about, being an S-Class Darkstalker, but it didn't hurt to be careful anyway.

As it was, she made her way to his home address, and was glad she did some recon first. She could feel those damned blood wards, and with an expert eye, she dissected them. Hmm, keyed to one individual, as well as those linked to him. However, did sod-all protection against anything else, and didn't extend past the boundaries of the property. Hmm. Well, that made sense now. Something to tell him when she finally met her pet project. They wouldn't be hostile to him, but if she didn't do this correctly, she would be detected. In fact, she was sure she could sense a human where there wasn't meant to be one, very close by. An invisibility cloak, she wagered. Harry was being kept under watch.

She sniffed the air ever so slightly, and grimaced. She could smell a lot of booze too. And was that a faint but obnoxious snore she could hear? Hmm, who watches the watchmen?

With that thought, she reached out with her senses, searching for Harry. Well, he was at home…and thankfully, none of those damned relatives of his were. With a smirk, she carefully modified her portal…and stepped through it…

* * *

…And found Harry Potter in his room, his rather dreary room, looking surprised at her as she stepped through. "Good morning, Harry," she purred, changing her appearance back to her preferred one. "Sleep well?"

Harry, understandably, gaped, before he dived for his wand. But before he could cast a spell at her, she lunged and snatched it away. "Keep that thing in your pants," Morrigan scoffed. "You haven't even bought me a drink first. Besides, if I was working for Voldemort, I could have dealt with you the moment I entered your room." She handed his wand back, though not before whispering, "Nice, long, and firm. Just the way I like it."

He snatched it from her, blushing furiously at her innuendo. "What is _wrong_ with you, Morrigan? Is this still a dream?"

She chuckled. "Of course not," she said, sitting down next to him on his bed. "Did it ever occur to you that I'm not actually human, Harry?"

"…Well, the bat wings were a bit of a giveaway. Are you a vampire or something?"

"Succubus, actually." She tittered softly when he recoiled away from her. "Oh, please. While I can consume souls if I wanted to, well, I can consume other things…like your dreams." She gently stroked his face. "It's how you've gotten a better night's sleep lately…nightmares are an acquired taste, but I can subsist on them fairly well. That's how I stumbled across you. I found your dreams interesting."

"Interesting," he said flatly, with just the faintest hint of anger just below the surface. "You find my nightmares about Voldemort and Cedric and my past… _interesting._ "

"Well, perhaps morbidly so. I never said I found them _entertaining_ , the nightmares, anyway. Well, except for the bits where you fought back, and fought back well. Anyway, it was more to do with _you_ being interesting, Harry. But enough of that, it's time for your present!" She transformed herself back into her disguised self. "How about a fun-filled day at Euro Disneyland?"

"Ah, what?"

"Your birthday present. I can get us to Paris, and into a fun-filled day at Euro Disneyland. No questions answered. So, let's go and have some fun, shall we?"

"But wait, just a moment…" he protested, before Morrigan grabbed him by the wrist, and took him through another portal…

* * *

And it _was_ fun. Gradually, little by little, Harry loosened up. Morrigan had to admit, it was kind of cute, seeing him relax and act like a teenager. If he was really in danger from Voldemort, it was little wonder he was so tense.

And that helped grow the germ of an idea Morrigan had had for some time. . It was possibly foolish, and it'd piss off her father something fierce…but she found herself not giving a shit. After all, Morrigan was looking for some excitement in her life. And it wasn't like these fools could kill her if she didn't let them. The Killing Curse was powerful, but while it could kill most demons of Makai, the strongest ones, even as young as Morrigan herself, wouldn't be killed by it, unless they were weakened.

So, after going on a number of rides, which she had to admit excited her a little, and with the sun beginning to set, Harry asked the inevitable question. "Why are you doing this?" he asked as they walked down a path, cotton candy in hand.

"On a whim. You seemed like the sort who needed a wee bit of happiness in your life. Besides, like I said, I was bored. I still am. I need some excitement in my life. I'm…royalty, I suppose you could say."

"Really?" Harry asked sceptically.

"Oh yes, it's true," Morrigan said. "Morrigan Aensland, heiress to the throne of Makai, or the demon realm, if you prefer. Not Hell, not where damned souls are punished for eternity. Actually, that was another reason I liked you. We're the same in that much, having so many expectations made of us. You as the Boy Who Lived, and me, as heiress to my father. Anyway, I want to make you an offer…and as you humans say, it's an offer you can't refuse."

"And why is that?"

"Well, leaving aside the fact that the Killing Curse doesn't really affect me, well, what you'd like is protection against Voldemort and his cronies. I want to alleviate my boredom. Therefore, I think we can come to some sort of arrangement. Maybe you can consider it a birthday present…" And with that, she pulled him through yet another portal…

* * *

Harry didn't know why he trusted Morrigan. Maybe it was something of an allure, like that of a Veela, but more powerful and yet, more subtle. She had admitted herself to being a Succubus after all. Or maybe it was because his friends hadn't written to him much, neither had Sirius or anyone else, and he had been stuck at the Dursleys, with no news of Voldemort. Frankly, this was the best birthday he had ever had in his life, thanks to this girl he had met in his dreams mere weeks earlier. Nobody had done anything for him like she had done, just upped and taken him out somewhere for his birthday…unless going to the Quidditch World Cup last year counted as a belated birthday present.

He still had a vague feeling of being near a predator, one that was playing with her food, so when she took him through a portal, and into a room that seemed like it was an opulent bedroom in a castle, he felt no anger anymore, just resignation. Something told him he was in her territory.

Still, it seemed like it was time to pay the piper. But if this Morrigan girl was going to turn on him, then he was going to go down fighting.

"What's this…arrangement?" Harry asked.

Morrigan smirked, changing back once more into her inhuman form. "Straight to the point? No foreplay? Well, two can play at that game. My proposal is very simple, Harry Potter. I will become your familiar, your bodyguard…" Her smile became a more lustful smirk. "…And your lover. So, what say you?"

Oh, what the possibly-literal Hell had he gotten himself into now?

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry and Morrigan have met up, and Morrigan has an interesting proposal for Harry. But will he take her up on it? And what will Belial think?**

 **I did a lot of editing on this chapter compared to the original, changing it so Morrigan has actually spent some time with Harry before indulging her whim to entertain him, and then make her proposal. I hope this feels better, less awkward. Harry doesn't quite trust Morrigan per se, but she comforted him within his dreams, and that helped in the goodwill stakes.**

 **Incidentally, we will have other _Darkstalkers_ characters appear, never fear. Jon Talbain will definitely appear, and maybe Felicia and Hsien-Ko.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	124. Nocturne (Revised) Chapter 2

**Well, bad news for anyone following _Nocturne_. It may not see the light of day as a full story...though that's because a better idea came along. One that substantially changes the story, and if I can make it work, it may become my first full Potterverse/ _Darkstalkers_ story.**

 **You see, earlier today, I posted a challenge (on the forums of DZ2, whitetigerwolf, and Lupine Horror, if you're interested) based on _Darkstalkers_. And after looking back on the challenge I posted, I actually realised, I wanted to do it myself, as it actually sets up a more interesting story, one that I can hybridise with a few other challenges. If it screws up, I might go back to _Nocturne_ and work on it more.**

 **Basically, it has Lilith, or rather, the sentient bit of Morrigan's power that becomes Lilith, ends up as part of either Harry, or a female Harry. And in a moment of trauma for Harry or female Harry...their powers awaken. If you want to read the challenge, feel free to do so here:**

 **topic/88470/167490510/1/Morrigan-s-Power-Reborn-Harry-Potter-Darkstalkers-challenge**

 **Still, I won't leave you hanging with just one chapter of _Nocturne_. So, have another. Enjoy.**

* * *

 _ **NOCTURNE (REVISED)**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **CREATURES OF THE NIGHT**

There was a pub known to a number of types, an isolated bar avoided by most people. Like the legendary Yellow Flag bar of Roanapur in Thailand, it was filled with undesirables. Unlike the Yellow Flag, many of the clientele, strictly speaking, weren't human.

This place was in Whitby, Yorkshire, a place made famous as the setting for much of Bram Stoker's novel, _Dracula_. This was actually something of a bit of dark humour on the part of the proprietors. It was a place where the creatures of the night could gather, something of neutral ground.

Which was why Remus Lupin was here.

After being ushered into a private room by the proprietor, Remus sat down and waited. He was here to speak with an old acquaintance of his. Not a friend by any means, but not an enemy either. Rather, a fellow werewolf called Jon Talbain. He was on a mission from Dumbledore, one that had had mixed success at best so far. And he already knew what Talbain was likely to say to that proposal. It was the more personal one Remus wanted to know about.

The door opened, and a tall, handsome-looking man with a shock of silver hair standing on end walked in. He looked muscular and somewhat sardonic, and deceptively young, despite him being one of the oldest living werewolves. However, to Remus' annoyance, and perhaps fear, at least initially, he hadn't come alone. Though his fear abated when he saw who it was.

The other person looked like a woman, virtually naked, save for patches of what looked like white fluffy cloth on her breasts and groin. In fact, this was fur. Her legs and hands were white-furred oversized paws, and a white tail twitched excitedly from where it protruded from her rear. Her beautiful features were framed by tresses of sky blue hair, and she seemed to possess a pair of white cat ears.

"Good afternoon, Jon," Remus said. "But I thought I'd asked for you to come alone."

"Yes, and I ignored you. I don't take orders from you, Lupin," Jon Talbain said. "Any more than I'd take orders from Greyback or that snake he follows."

"Don't be like that, Jon," complained the young woman, speaking with a Southern accent(1). "Sheesh, I thought I'd managed to get you to lighten up a little."

"You thought wrong. Anyway, Lupin, this is…"

"Felicia, yes, I know. Something of a famous singer in the US," Remus said. "MACUSA has one hell of a time trying to cover up the fact that you're not in costume. It's a pleasure to meet you, though. I enjoy your work."

Felicia smiled. "Why, thank you! You're a more pleasant guy than this grump!"

Jon indicated the catwoman. "I picked up this stray while on the run from Night Warriors in Boston. We've been travelling together for a while. Just friends, though."

Remus nodded. His nose could tell that Jon thought of Felicia as such…and that Felicia, while she didn't mind if they were something more, accepted this. "Can you trust her?"

"In important things, yes," Jon said. "Anyway, let's hear what you have to say. Or rather, what Dumbledore has to say through you."

Remus sighed quietly. "Well, Dumbledore asked me to go around to some of the packs, and ask them to ally with us. Or, at the very least, not ally with Voldemort. I told him this was a fool's errand, given how badly our kind have been treated by the Ministry, and other such organisations across the world, but…"

"He still views the world with rose-tinted glasses," Jon sneered. "Stupid old bastard. Felicia may be an optimist, but she at least understands more than Dumbledore did. You can tell him, from me, that he won't expect me or anyone else I know to be his cannon fodder." His expression softened. "That being said, I won't say no to sabotaging packs submitting to Voldemort. Greyback still flees with his tail literally between his legs at the sight of me."

"That's probably the best I could ask for," Remus said, disappointed, but understanding. "However, I had another request, Jon."

"Hmm?"

"It's more of a personal request. I tried to get a hold of you sooner, but you were in the US at the time. Over a year ago, I forgot my Wolfsbane potion due to various issues, and lost control of Moony. I very nearly attacked and killed my honorary nephew and his friends. And you put yourself through training to control your wolf. I ask that you consider teaching me."

Jon frowned, leaning back in his chair, and thinking about it. "I made the offer to you just before you started teaching in Dumbledore's little fiefdom, and you refused," he said, the rebuke clear even in his gruff tone.

"Jon…he's asking for your help now," Felicia said.

"Maybe…but I have too much on my plate for now to train you personally," Jon said. "But I will give you pointers. A lot of what you can do, you can do with mundane martial arts, particularly those revolving around meditation and mental discipline. The rest, what my own sensei taught me, I will give you my notes on before long."

Remus sighed quietly. "That's better than I could have hoped for, given my earlier rejection. Also, I wanted to ask you, partly on my own behalf, and partly on Dumbledore's, do you know of anyone who could fill the Defence Against the Dark Arts post this year?"

"Nobody that the Ministry wouldn't object to," Jon scoffed. "There's a couple of Night Warriors I know who'd be great, but they wouldn't take it for one reason or another. There's a Night Warrior called Donovan, but I doubt he'd want to take it up, and if the Ministry finds out he's a Dhampir, they'd come after him. And you don't want BB Hood for obvious reasons."

Remus shuddered at the thought. Baby Bonny Hood was the pseudonym for a prodigy of a Night Warrior who had been hired by the Ministry a couple of times in the past couple of years. Despite her young age and the fact that she was a Muggle, BB Hood had racked up an impressive bodycount…but she also didn't seem to care about whether she killed innocent Darkstalkers or not. All while looking like Little Red Riding Hood.

"What about Hsien-Ko and Mei-Ling, Jon?" Felicia asked.

"Three good reasons, Felicia. Firstly, they're Chinese, and the Ministry here doesn't take kindly to foreign nationals meddling in their business. Secondly, they're young enough to still be going to Hogwarts. And thirdly, Hsien-Ko is a Jiang Shi."

Remus winced. All three points, especially the last one, would cause the Ministry to obstruct her, if not outright attack her. Jiang Shi were a form of Chinese vampire that drained lifeforce rather than blood, and not many of them were benign. "What are their skills, anyway?"

"Technically, Hsien-Ko is the Jiang Shi, and her sister, Mei-Ling, acts as a living seal to prevent her from losing her humanity. They're both expert exorcists, with Hsien-Ko acting as the physical fighter, and Mei-Ling works more on the mystical side of things. Why do you ask?"

"I was wondering whether they'd be amenable to a commission. With Voldemort's return, we might need novel means of stopping him, and a Chinese exorcist might be what we need."

Jon looked uncertain at that, before he reluctantly nodded. "I'll get in touch with them. We've met a couple of times before. But keep in mind, Lupin, they're not pawns for Dumbledore to shuffle about on a board. And neither are we. I'll send you a copy of your little regimen you will need to train to channel your wolf. And I'll have Hsien-Ko and Mei-Ling get in touch with Dumbledore later. Just remember, Lupin, you and Dumbledore are on the out with the Ministry…and so's your precious Boy Who Lived…"

* * *

Harry didn't know what to say to Morrigan's offer. On the one hand, he was angry with this Succubus for presuming he would accept his offer. On the other…if her intentions were genuine…

"Why would you help me?" he asked.

"Like I said, I'm bored. You know how boring it is, being the heiress to the rulership of Makai? I've had a little peek through your memories, and I have to say, it's not far off from your History of Magic classes. Anyway, boredom is a very real danger for a Succubus, especially once they come of age. One of the things our bodies require is a substance, created through physical or mental stimulation…although we can also extract that substance by feeding on the dreams of mortals. And souls, of course. I am yet to feed on a soul, though…and perhaps with you, I won't need to for some time yet. Magical power is a most excellent substitute, and it's renewable. It is why some Succubi assented to becoming the familiars of wizards and witches. Not that my father would see it that way. Well, adoptive father. Anyway, my point is, while I doubt I have given you any reason to trust me, you're more interesting to me alive and kicking than dead. We Succubi are creatures of impulse and passion and whims. And my offer to become your familiar is one of those whims."

At this, Harry groaned quietly. "You're not going to let me refuse, are you?"

"I believe I said that before, didn't I?" She strutted over to him, and smiled. This smile was a softer, gentler one than the more mischievous or lustful ones she had flashed him before. "I'm not going to hurt you, Harry," she said, gently stroking his cheek with her hand. "If anything, I will hurt your enemies."

"Or kill them? Suck out their souls?"

"Depends. While I could do that to many of my enemies, I have standards."

He was hit by a sudden revelation. "Merlin, you're like a sexy Dementor."

Morrigan grimaced. "Ugh, don't say something so gauche like that. Dementors are a cousin race of Succubi, but instead of provoking lust, they provoke depression and fear. Anyway, those we Succubi consume spend eternity in ultimate bliss, whereas those in Dementors just get digested. Of course, I find it highly ironic that the Ministry doesn't trust us enough to act as their executioners, but trust those horrid things. A shame, really. I'd imagine it'd be a much more pleasant means of execution to the prisoners. Not that many would deserve such a reward."

"And how do I know I can trust you?"

"I'm not sure you can…but we've known each other for a few weeks now, even if it was only in dreams. I'd like to think we're friends, even if you don't think so."

"Then…if you know so much about me, do you know anything about what's going on in Magical Britain? Whether Voldemort has made his move, or whether Fudge still disbelieves me about his return?"

"The affairs of Magical Britain mean little to me, but I guess I can find out. The few mundane holdings we have in Britain are administered through Gringotts. Though if anyone would know, it's my father."

Yes, her father…the ruler of this place. Harry peeked out of a window, at a landscape that wasn't too far removed from an idea of Hell, despite Morrigan's protestations to the contrary. Red sky, an evil-looking volcano in the distance…yeah, he didn't like this place that much. "We're not going to meet him, are we?"

At this, Morrigan looked uncertain. "…Ah. He probably knows already that I'm back."

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door. "Lady Morrigan?" rasped a voice. "Your lord father requires your presence. As well as that of your…guest."

"Crap," Harry muttered. And things were going so bad, too. It only stood to reason that they'd get even worse…

* * *

Harry grimaced as he was escorted down various corridors by a pair of green, Goblin-like beings. Morrigan named them Lucien and Mudo. He had been caught out already. And if this Belial guy was the ruler of Makai…

They were brought to an audience chamber, something like a curtained-off area being where they were brought to. "Father," Morrigan said, a little tightly.

The voice Harry heard in reply was…well, whatever he expected, he wasn't expecting this. Oh, he did expect a deep rumble of a voice, but not something that sounded like a thunderstorm talking softly in its sleep. " ** _My daughter, I do not know whether to be amused or frustrated by your latest dalliance. Why is it that you have seen fit to take the Boy Who Lived from his home and bring him here?_** "

After a moment, Morrigan said, with a shrug, "To have fun. His birthday was today, and he was stuck in a most drab and dreary place. I've been visiting his dreams for weeks, Father, so it's not like we are complete strangers."

" ** _Nonetheless, to bring a human to Makai is irregular. But I suppose some forms of etiquette should be followed. Greetings, Harry Potter. My name is Belial Aensland. You have met my adopted daughter and heiress, Morrigan. You are in the demon realm, known to some as Makai, specifically, within my castle._** "

"I know that…Your Majesty? Umm, what do I call you?"

A rumbling chuckle, like distant thunder. " ** _For now, sir should suffice. I will allow a certain lack of propriety due to ignorance, but disrespect I will not._** "

"Okay, well, I…kinda got dragged along with this by your daughter. She seems to like doing her own thing. I mean, I enjoyed going to Euro Disney today and all, and she's pretty nice for a Succubus, but, well…I'm a bit overwhelmed."

" ** _Understandable. My daughter is somewhat hedonistic and wilful. Though why have you brought him here, Morrigan?_** "

Eventually, Morrigan steeled herself. "Because I wish to make him my consort, by voluntarily becoming his familiar. He has considerable potential locked up within him. Potential that the _wizards_ will doubtless let lie fallow." She sneered at the word 'wizards'.

 _Wait, a_ _ **consort?**_ Harry thought. But Belial's next words cut off any protest.

" ** _And you have discussed this with him? He seems somewhat bemused by the whole situation._** "

"I was about to get an agreement out of him."

" ** _Even though your lifespan is much longer than his?_** "

"I have a few thoughts about that."

There was a tenebrous sigh from within. " ** _Becoming a familiar does not reflect well upon your station, Morrigan. The only reasons I am allowing this farce to continue is your stubbornness, and that you chose your consort well. Even with the hyperbole around his reputation, built by the credulous fools of Magical Britain, I do sense the power he has. And mayhap he may act as a stabilising factor in your antics. And there is, of course, the fact that Voldemort has stolen power from Makai for his own ends, making deals that he has reneged on._** "

"So, I have your permission to continue?"

" ** _Reluctantly. But you will comport yourself in future as befits my heir._** "

"Don't I get a say in this?" Harry asked.

" ** _Perhaps. But what my daughter is generously offering you will help you survive_** ," Belial's voice rang out. " ** _To have a Succubus as a willing familiar, especially one who will keep their word as long as you keep their own, is a rare privilege. And I know my daughter, Potter. While she has her whims, she would not stoop to being the familiar of any wizard. As much as she enjoys indulging herself, she has at least some pride._** "

Well, he had a point there. About the whole survival thing. "…Just how powerful is Morrigan?"

"… ** _Powerful enough. Of course, that does not mean that destroying Voldemort will be easy. Tell me, Harry Potter…what do you know about Horcruxes?_** "

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry's met Belial, and Remus is getting some advice from Jon Talbain.**

 **1\. The Udon comics adaptation states Felicia's orphanage to be in Kansas, so I gave her a Southern accent.**


	125. Never Tear Us Apart Chapter 1

**Remember how I said I was going to try and answer my own Potterverse/ _Darkstalkers_ challenge? Well, here it is, with a twist. I hope you guys enjoy it. The title, of course, is a reference to the famous INXS song. Considering that it's been about two decades since Michael Hutchence died, it seems apt. The original title was _Night's Dark Agents_ , but this title seemed more apt to Harry and Lilith's situation.**

 **Incidentally, if I do manage to get a _Darkstalkers_ story off the ground, I'm not posting it as a games crossover. I only discovered this last night, but there are TWO categories of _Darkstalkers_ fiction, one rather pathetic collection in the games section, as you'd expect, and another, somewhat more substantial collection in the anime section. As the anime version actually has character tags, I'm going to post it there.**

 **EDIT: (8/11/2017) This version of the story had one needless complication too many. So, I've decided to, yet again, try revising it. Instead of Harry becoming a Succubus, Lilith becomes his familiar, bound to him by dint of them sharing a soul. Most of the new chapter is the same, so I'll only be posting the new chapter 2 later, once it's done.**

* * *

 _ **NEVER TEAR US APART (ORIGINAL)  
**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **FRACTURE**

Once, centuries ago, an infant Succubus was adopted by Belial Aensland, the ruler of Makai, the demon realm, and perhaps the most powerful of the entities known as the Darkstalkers. Her power made her a worthy heiress to his throne, but he also knew that her power could intoxicate her. So, he divided her power into three. The Succubus, whom he would dub Morrigan, would keep one third of her power. Belial would keep another third in trust until he felt she was ready for the responsibility, or when he died, whatever came first. And another third, he sealed within a pocket dimension.

Belial was unaware that this particular third of Morrigan's power would soon develop its own sentience, a life of its own. It was a miscalculation that, in some timelines, would have cost him, or rather, his heir, dearly. In most timelines, this isolated third of Morrigan's power would be found by Jedah Domah, a rival to Belial's throne. This mass of energy with a personality would be given a body, and a name, Lilith.

However, in this timeline, the power that would become Lilith was found by a very different party indeed. A group of Unspeakables from the British Ministry of Magic would find the pocket dimension by accident. And that power, and the sentience that came with it, entered into a young Unspeakable by the name of Lily Potter, who was unaware that she was pregnant at the time.

As her child developed, Lily didn't know it, but her child had two entities within him, and a single soul. Had she known what shared a body with her son…well, she would have accepted him anyway, along with his passenger. Though the same couldn't be said about the rest of Magical Britain. Her son shared a body with two other entities than his own…well, until one of them consumed the other.

Our story picks up nearly sixteen years after her child's birth, nearly fifteen years after events conspired to kill Lily Potter, her husband, and elevate her son to one of the most famous people in Magical Britain…though Harry Potter's star is on the wane…and soon, something darker will rise…

* * *

Well, this sucked balls, to say the least.

Well, first things first, he had been an unwilling participant in his nemesis' Happy Resurrection Day party, and now the snake-faced bastard was making some bombastic speech (seriously, Voldemort loved to hear himself talk). And then, there was the fact that his comrade (he couldn't really consider Cedric a friend) was sprawled on the grass nearby, dead, voiding his bowls, and staring at the sky with an imbecilic expression of terminal surprise. And now, he was going to be following him before long.

And that was on top of this year being one of his more interesting at Hogwarts so far, what with half the school turning their back on him out of petulance, being forced to participate in a dangerous tournament, facing off against dragons, merpeople and a bitchy journalist, culminating in tonight. With him being tied to a bloody gravestone (literally bloody, thanks to Pettigrew's clumsy attempts at phlebotomy), and Voldemort doing his little monologue about how great he was, how pathetic his minions were, and how Harry was going to die tonight. Yawn.

He'd be a lot more panicked in this situation if he didn't have Lilith running commentary.

"Oh, for the love of Makai, he's enjoying the sound of his own voice, doesn't he?" she remarked from where she leaned casually against the gravestone Harry was tied to. "A shame he didn't inflict more pain on those inbred minions of his. I wanted to see more blood and soiled robes. I mean, seriously, monologues from villains should be informative, not boring. They're telling you your evil plans, after all. Maybe he's hoping to bore you to death."

Harry stifled a snort of laughter at Lilith's snark, though he couldn't resist shooting her a glance. He had always thought that she was his imaginary friend, one who had been a comfort to him in the Dursleys' house, his first friend. But if she was a product of his imagination, he had to wonder why, since turning fourteen, she had started dressing like she did recently.

True, she always had the short mop of violet hair framing a cute face, not to mention the crimson batwings protruding from her back, and a smaller pair from her temples. But since he turned fourteen, she began wearing a scarlet leotard that left little to the imagination, plus blue stockings with bat-like patterns on them. Thank Merlin she was growing as he did, but still, she seemed to dress like that partly to fluster him. She could dress in other costumes if she wanted to.

Of course, her frequent interjections had gotten him into trouble more than once due to his reaction, and he tried not to talk to himself. Hell, not even Hermione knew about Lilith, and she was his best non-imaginary friend. Though she would definitely look askance at him if she knew.

 _I'm going to die here, aren't I?_ Harry asked mentally once his mirth died down somewhat. _I mean, I want to find a way to get out of this, and I intend to, but…I'm alone…aside from you, anyway. I'm surrounded by Death Eaters, and Voldemort's back to full power. I'm Merlin-knows where, and nobody I trust knows where I am. Cedric's dead, and I'm probably going to follow_.

Lilith's retort died on her lips. She knew Harry was afraid. She moved over to him, and gently placed a hand on his cheek. He felt little but a light, tingling warmth, a phantom hand on his face. "I wish I could help you. But…I don't even have a body. My power…no, _our_ power, as we are one…remains locked away. Maybe given time, we can break that barrier. I've been whittling away at it for some time, but even so…if we're lucky, the Killing Curse will have no effect on us. We are one being, after all, and not entirely human."

Merlin, he was going crazy again. Lilith's claims to being part of his soul, that his soul wasn't entirely human, was it any wonder he felt that way? Harry loved her, but still, she said many things that seemed designed to test his sanity. Maybe his theory of her being a split personality wasn't so farfetched after all.

It was at about that point that even Voldemort tired of hearing his own voice, and decided to indulge in his more conventionally sadistic streak. He also didn't believe in Harry having a sporting chance, deciding to torture an incarcerated teenager. " _CRUCIO!_ " he roared.

Now, Harry was no stranger to pain. In fact, given what the Dursleys did to him, he could be said to be a connoisseur, though not in the manner of actually enjoying pain. But the only thing he would consider to be worse pain was the venom of the Basilisk, and at least that had been mostly confined to one area. This was systemic, as if the dragon from the First Task had set him aflame. Pain wracked his nerves, his muscles, even in his very bones themselves.

And he could hear Lilith screaming alongside him.

He would do anything, anything, to keep the both of them alive. He may have been afraid he was going to die, but he wasn't actually resigned to it. He would fight to the very end.

His only coherent thoughts as his mind was consumed by the fires of the Cruciatus were, _I want to be strong! I want both of us to be strong! Please, we need to_ _ **live!**_

* * *

Most such entreaties, whether they be prayers to a deity or just to some impersonal force of the universe, almost never work. Wishful thinking can never truly deny reality, even when you have powers like magic.

And yet, the vast reserves of power deep within the entity that was both Harry Potter and Lilith Aensland, dammed by their unwitting fusion years ago, were almost ready to burst forth. All that was needed was the right catalyst.

The Cruciatus Curse didn't just need powerful emotion to fuel it. It also needed magical power, period, to achieve its full effect. Vast torrents of magical energy were forcing themselves into Harry's body, setting his nerves aflame. And the sensations he felt, Lilith shared. And while she was somewhat masochistic, the Cruciatus went beyond the pale.

The Cruciatus, however, was also eroding the barriers keeping the power of Lilith Aensland at bay. And soon, they had eroded enough that the power burst forth. And it did some rather…interesting things in its wake.

They intersected with the desires of Harry and Lilith, reacting to their feelings of impotence (and NOT of that kind, get your minds out of the gutter). Harry wanted to be strong enough to stop Voldemort. Lilith wanted to have a body so she could help her friend and very literal soulmate.

And for once, their wishes were granted…

* * *

The next thing Harry knew, he was falling from the gravestone, his bindings removed. The Death Eaters and Voldemort were all blinking, as if briefly dazzled by a flare of light. The pain receded, and he found Lilith helping him to his feet. Wait, what? She was solid? And why did he feel…strange?

Voldemort recovered first, and then glared. Only to blink in astonishment. "Who…how…what trickery is this?!" he demanded. "What is a Succubus doing here?! And…what have you done to him?!"

Lilith merely glared at him. "Why should I answer the questions of a dead man?" She flung her hands at Voldemort, and shouted, "SOUL FLASH!"

A luminous green bat appeared, flying at Voldemort at speed. The ophidian-faced warlock dived away, but one of his minions wasn't so lucky, a hole punched through the man's torso. Lilith was attacking another, slashing him into the air with her wing and a cry of "SHINING BLADE!"

Harry didn't want to let Lilith fight alone. Memories of something came to him, and he mimicked Lilith's initial attack, though a different name came to mind. "SOUL BURST!" A green lion's head blasted forth, and hit another Death Eater, sending them sprawling to the ground.

The pair of them tore through the Death Eaters, dodging spells at inhuman speeds. Harry lost himself in a strange pleasure he felt as he was fighting, as if the adrenaline running through his veins was giving him pleasure as well as heightening his senses, speed and strength. He felt the same feelings through his link with Lilith. She was enjoying this. No, they _both_ were.

Soon, the whipcrack noises of Apparitions filled the air, including that of Voldemort. Soon, the only Death Eaters left in the graveyard were dead ones. Soon, the only living beings in the cemetery in Little Hangleton were Harry and Lilith.

Lilith shivered, but not in fear or anxiety. "Whoa…" she murmured, her cheeks crimson. "What a rush. So this is what it's like having a proper body…"

"Why did that feel so good?" Harry asked, more than a little disturbed by what he felt. "To fight like that?" _To kill them_ , he added mentally.

Lilith shrugged. "When we're physically or mentally stimulated in the right way, we produce a substance that gives us pleasure, as well as sustaining our existence." She gave a small but vicious grin. "That, and the fact that it feels so good for cruel hunters to become the hunted for a change. Though that damned rat got away. I was going to capture him to try and get Sirius exonerated, but…well, I guess rats know when to flee a sinking ship first." She sighed, and a swarm of bats surrounded her. Her batwings disappeared, and her clothes dissolved, only to be replaced with a knee-length tartan skirt and a Black Sabbath shirt depicting a gurning Ozzy Osbourne. She then strutted up to him, and touched his face. Suddenly, a swarm of bats surrounded them both. He felt something of himself change, something he wasn't aware that was different, until it changed back.

"What did you do?" he asked.

"Harry…you changed. Our magic, and the fact that we are two entities with a single soul, reacted in our time of need. Our desperation fuelled this change. So, here we are." She looked over at the trophy, and walked over to it, and Cedric's body. "We'd better get our stories straight before we head back here. I'm a friend of yours that you've known at Surrey since you were young. I happened to be up here for a holiday, and helped rescued you. I'm sure Dumbledore will figure out what I am…what we are, but to the public…that's our story."

Harry stared at her, before he asked, "But…what are you?"

She looked at him. "I am a Succubus, Harry," she said, pulling him over to Cedric's body, and as Harry numbly held the body, Lilith clasped his hand in his own, and then, as she reached down for the trophy, she said, "And now, so are you…"

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Well, that just happened.**

 **Now, why is Harry, a male character, a Succubus? Surely the male equivalent of a Succubus is an Incubus? True, but an Incubus is a VERY different creature in Darkstalkers canon to a Succubus, and not just because of the whole different gender. Incubi seem to be more monstrous and insect-like in Darkstalkers from my research, so for the sake of this story, Harry is, improbably, a male Succubus.**

 **And Lilith, unlike the games, doesn't look too young for Harry to have a relationship with. Then again, considering that they're both, effectively, the same being with two different personalities…well, does their coming relationship count as incest or masturbation?**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	126. Never Tear Us Apart (Chapter 2, revised)

**So, here we are for the second chapter of _Never Tear Us Apart_. But people will notice a number of changes to this story. It was because I felt some aspects of the story were getting overly complicated by turning Harry into a Succubus as well. Instead, Harry and Lilith have something like a familiar bond. However, the revised version of the first chapter wasn't different enough to justify posting a whole new version of it. So, instead of Harry and Lilith both being Succubi, only Lilith, upon gaining a body, is one...though as this chapter will show, Harry's getting something out of the deal other than a powerful partner and lover...**

 **Oh, incidentally, while Harry and Lilith WILL be calling out Dumbledore and the Weasleys on their faults, either out loud or mentally, this WON'T be a bashing fic. Dumbledore and the Weasleys will be on their side.**

 **Oh, and good news for fans of _Under the Light of the Shattered Moon_ : that WILL be eventually published, as I am partway through the 5th chapter. Hopefully, I will publish that fic, and maybe this one, before or around Christmas. No promises, but I'm sure you guys will look forward to it...**

 **EDIT: A guest reviewer asked a few pointed questions, like, with a Dark Creature ward, how could he not tell that a Troll had entered the castle back in the first book? Well, in my own personal fanon, the Troll was one used to guard the Stone, and so was already in the castle. The ward can only tell that a creature is in the castle, not where it is. As for using Legilimency, he wanted to be sure that Lilith was not a threat to Harry or the staff and students of Hogwarts.**

* * *

 _ **NEVER TEAR US APART (REVISED)**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **DISCUSSIONS WITH DUMBLEDORE**

Harry had been so dazed from that revelation, that when he appeared back at Hogwarts, he found himself being led away by Mad-Eye Moody with little preamble. It was only when he didn't seem to be taking Harry to the infirmary that Lilith, who had been following, took action. She darted in front of Moody, and crossed her arms. "Where are you taking him?"

"Somewhere safe, girl," Moody said.

"For whom?"

Moody stared at her, before he seemed to realise he had never seen her before. "And who are you? Why did you come back with Potter?"

"I am Lilith. And protecting Harry is what I do. We will take him to the hospital wing."

Moody, after a moment, simply drew his wand and attacked Lilith, who dodged the spell. A sickly green spell…like the Killing Curse. "Stop it! She's a friend!" Harry yelled.

Moody cursed, before pressing his wand to Harry's head, grabbing him. "Maybe…but I'm not."

"…Either you're more around the twist than we thought…or you're not Moody," Lilith said. She sniffed, and then, she said, "Harry, that flask…does it smell familiar?"

Harry, who was close to where Moody kept his flask on his belt, sniffed…and found himself grimacing. Memories from second year came back to him. "Polyjuice?"

Realising his peril, he shoved Moody away as hard as he could, and was astonished when the man flew, and smashed his head against a nearby wall, slumping, unconscious. He stared, and then looked at his hands. After a moment's confusion, he shook his head. Priorities first. "That's not Moody." Then, a thought occurred to him. "He must've been the one who put my bloody name into the Goblet of Fire…" He cast a spell, and Moody was wrapped up in ropes. "Lilith, keep an eye on him, I'm fetching Dumbledore!"

* * *

He didn't need to go far. He bumped into Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall, who all looked very serious indeed. "Mr Potter! Are you all right?" McGonagall asked.

"Not really, no. I just found out my Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was trying to kill me. So, just another year here," Harry said. "Oh, and he's an impostor."

"I suspected as much," Dumbledore said gravely. "At least once he took you away from us. The Moody I knew would never have done that, taken you away after what you said. But that girl, Harry…who was she?"

"A friend. She happened to be passing by the area I was taken to. Professor, Voldemort's back, I saw him, he…"

"All in good time, Harry," Dumbledore said quietly. "I heard you when you first came back. Is the impostor secure?"

"I've tied him up, and Lilith's standing watch."

"And just who is this friend, Potter?" Snape asked with a habitual sneer. "I've never seen that girl before in my life!"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. I don't believe it myself," Harry retorted.

They soon found Lilith standing vigil over Moody, and Dumbledore then said to Snape, "Snape, meet me in the DADA classroom with your best Veritaserum. And please fetch a House Elf called Winky from the kitchens. Minerva, would you kindly go to Hagrid's hut, and bring the large black dog there to my office and tell him that I'll be with him shortly?"

The two teachers nodded, and left. As they did so, Dumbledore looked at Lilith. "It appears I am in your debt, young lady. And your name is Lilith?"

"Yes."

"Hmm. How extraordinary. It is a rare Darkstalker who would make friends with a human," Dumbledore mused, with the shock apparent on both Harry and Lilith's faces. "And yes, I know you are a Darkstalker. This castle has a Dark Creature ward to alert me to any incursions from outside the castle, though it does little for creatures coming from within, like a certain Basilisk. I will give you the benefit of the doubt. We'll continue this another time." Dumbledore waved his wand, and Moody was hovering in the air. He soon moved briskly off, Moody's body, along with Harry and Lilith in tow…

* * *

The following interrogation of Moody was disturbing. Not that it was Moody, but Barty Crouch Junior, who bragged about his achievements while under the influence of Veritaserum, as well as how his father smuggled him out of Azkaban. McGonagall was asked to stand guard over Barty Crouch Junior, and then Dumbledore led them to his office, where Sirius was waiting. Harry told his tale about what happened (lying about where Lilith came from), Lilith corroborating it, and after they were finished, Dumbledore pursed his lips thoughtfully. After a moment, Dumbledore said, "While I believe most of your story…I can't say I believe the part of Lilith just happening to be there. It seems too coincidental, too much like a _deus ex machina_ , a contrived salvation, to be real. I would like the truth."

Lilith scoffed. "The truth? That's rich, coming from someone who loves to hide the truth from Harry, and send him off to that hellhole with his so-called relatives. And if you _dare_ say anything like 'it's not that bad', I will get angry. Well, more so than I am with you already."

Sirius chortled at Lilith's anger, and Dumbledore's startled reaction to it. "Not a fan of Dumbledore, then?" he asked.

"Let's just say that I am assuming he is a fool rather than malicious in sending Harry back to those… _humans._ " Her sneer would have possibly impressed Snape, had he been present. "So whatever truth he believes I am hiding, he is not welcome to it."

"Very well. In any case, I got the truth through Legilimency," Dumbledore said, sitting back in a manner that could have been considered smug had it not been for the solemn and thoughtful look on his face. "How extraordinary…a single soul with two entities. Not a split personality, but two entities sharing the same body and soul. Though how a Succubus ended up merged with Harry…"

Lilith stormed over to Dumbledore's desk, glaring at him with her crimson eyes. "Look into my mind again at your peril, Dumbledore."

"A Succubus? My godson is bound to a Succubus?" Sirius asked, before crying manly tears. "Oh, Prongs would be so proud! And jealous! I know I am!"

"Not the time, Padfoot," Harry bit out.

"Please!" Dumbledore said, holding up a hand. "Now, this does complicate things somewhat. As long as they are relatively benign, I have little trouble with Darkstalkers, but the Ministry is not so enlightened. Especially as Harry now has her as a familiar."

"What exactly is a familiar?" Harry asked. "I thought Hedwig would have been a familiar."

"Well, you are not wholly wrong. Familiars can be animals, but sentient beings can be as well. There were darker times when wizards and witches bound sentient beings as familiars against their will. The House Elves, I believe, are an unfortunately irrevocable product of that time. However, a proper familiar bond, one entered into voluntarily by the familiar, is one of symbiosis, and given that you are both, effectively, the same being, just with different natures and personalities…Darkstalkers were coveted familiars, though few would deign to do so. Lesser Succubi were amongst the few who did, for somewhat obvious reasons. It is thought that Dementors were Succubi corrupted by dark wizards in order to become more effective weapons, inspiring fear and sorrow rather than lust."

"The upshot is, I am Harry's guardian," Lilith said. "I have been his friend and confidante since before you finally deigned to let him know his heritage. And if he dies, I die too. Which, even if I wasn't well-disposed towards him, would be reason enough to keep him alive and well."

"I can tell. Through my Legilimency probe, brief though it was, I can see the affection and understanding you two share." Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. "You know, my dear girl, your face reminds me a little of a Succubus I once met. She was a little irritated that I was not interested in her, though. Morrigan Aensland, I believe her name was."

Lilith blinked. "Morrigan…I know that name…why do I know that name?"

"Well, while I am not sure how you would know, she is the heiress to her father Belial, the ruler of Makai," Dumbledore said.

"Makai?" Harry asked. He had heard that term before from Lilith.

"Loosely translated, the Demon Realm, though distinct from what most people consider Hell, as it is not a place of punishment for the damned," Sirius explained. "My family's infamous for dealing with Darkstalkers before. Even I've heard of Morrigan and her father, Belial."

"The familiar bond has done you some good, Harry," Dumbledore pointed out. "How do you feel?"

How did he feel? He had been feeling exhausted, and a little shaky, not to mention with some aches here and there…but now he felt good. No, better than he ever did. "…Great," he said a little bemusedly.

"Succubi normally feed off dreams or souls, or else are sustained through physical or mental excitement," Dumbledore pointed out. "But they can also feed off raw magical energy. Lilith is effectively sharing your magical energy…but because she herself is a magical creature, the magic she feeds back into your body is even more powerful, refined, converted into the magical energy of the Darkstalkers. In a way, it almost makes you a Darkstalker yourself. But as that delightful Muggle comic puts it, with great power comes great responsibility."

"And tends to make people think you're either the second coming of Merlin, or the next Dark Lord," Sirius snarked.

"Still," Dumbledore said, "I think we should have Poppy take a look at you anyway, Harry. You have been through a lot, far more than you should ever have had to, and at the very least, some rest and peace will do you a world of good. Lilith, I would ask that you stay in a somewhat human guise. For the time being, we will stick to your story. I would also suggest only telling those you trust absolutely, Harry: as I have said before, Darkstalkers are not kindly thought of in Magical Britain…"

* * *

The Weasleys and Hermione were waiting in the hospital wing around a harried-looking Pomfrey. And after Harry was put to sleep by Pomfrey, Lilith was left to face the music, the Weasleys and Hermione. Or rather, their questions.

It was rather irritating to Lilith. Her cover story was, admittedly, somewhat flimsy, especially to those who knew Harry best. Thankfully, Dumbledore was able to confirm it, and she had never been more thankful that these damned sheep took his word as gospel.

But should she reveal herself to them? Her true nature? That Molly Weasley woman seemed like a self-righteous harridan, not actually bad, but she would probably react badly to Harry being bound to a Succubus, or indeed any Darkstalker. And Lilith wasn't so sure about Ron's trustworthiness after that little fit of jealousy prior to the First Task. Bill was a possibility: being a Cursebreaker and well-travelled meant he might be more likely to have a broader mind.

However, the only person Lilith intended to tell, albeit in private, was Hermione. Now, this took considerable thought and consideration. She was immensely loyal to Harry, true, but she had this annoying faith in authority figures, especially Dumbledore and her teachers. Well, save for things like where House Elves were concerned. But Hermione's personal loyalty to Harry was, if not absolute, then stronger than Ron.

However, now was not the time. Lilith knew that she had to find a pretext to speak to Hermione alone, away from the Weasleys. Well, those twins might be helpful as well. Their loyalty to Harry was good too. Enough to weather the revelation that he had a Succubus as a familiar.

Of course, there were other factors at play. How would the Death Eaters react? How would the Ministry? And she had to wonder about Dumbledore's comment, that she resembled Morrigan Aensland. Why did she? And why did that name sound so familiar?

* * *

In Castle Aensland, in the land of Makai, its ruler, Belial, was troubled. He frequently was, as is many a ruler. And while this wasn't an important affair of state he was worried about, it was still personally important.

He had felt what felt like a massive surge of power, one that felt like, and yet unlike, his own daughter. His daughter was sleeping in her bedroom (or rather, had been, until the surge of power) when it happened, for once, as he'd sent Lucien and Mudo to check. So he sent them to check the pocket dimension he had stored that third of Morrigan's power…only to find it empty, with a cicatrise, a scar in space-time, leading to the Department of Mysteries in the British Ministry of Magic. Which meant those damned wizards had stolen it, about sixteen years prior.

The power came not from within Makai, but within the human world. Of course, only one with that power would have felt that surge. And as he contained part of Morrigan's power within him…

What to do, then? Belial didn't become ruler of Makai through force alone, though it was a key factor in his ascension. Darkstalkers tended only to respect force, after all. It was how he defeated Demitri Maximoff, or Jedah Domah. But he was also intelligent, too. And while the third of Morrigan's power that had been locked away had been stolen, it didn't necessarily mean by an enemy of Makai.

But what had actually happened? He felt no pull on his share of Morrigan's power, the pull that would ensure that Morrigan would regain that part of her power once she was ready. Had the power become its own entity? Possible, but a disturbing development.

He could not leave Makai, either. His power had diminished. But he could still sense the power, and its rough location: Hogwarts. He decided to send Morrigan to investigate…discreetly.

Or as discreetly as she could manage…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Dumbledore and Sirius are aware of Lilith's true nature…and Belial now knows that he has a third of Morrigan's power running around on the loose. And Morrigan is coming to visit Hogwarts…oh dear. This can only end well…**

 **No numbered annotations this time…**


	127. Neopolitan and the (revised) Chapter 1

**Well, another revised chapter is upon us. Namely, the first chapter of _Neopolitan and the Goblet of Fire_. I decided to remove James Potter being present at the drawing of the Champions, which would only complicate things too much. With him absent, and Neo claiming amnesia, he is less likely to see her revenge coming. Ditto Sirius. I'm also upping her age to sixteen.  
**

 **As for a pairing, well, I usually don't do female Harry stories (though I have done it for _The Uncertainty Principle_ , _Amethyst and Garnet_ , and my now-archived _Silent Hill_ crossover _Heather Potter and the Legacy of Alessa_ ), so for this one, I'm aging up Blaise Zabini and pairing him with her. Though that won't be the main focus.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy. Hopefully, either this story or Under the Light of the Shattered Moon will be published around Christmas at latest. No guarantees, though.**

* * *

 _ **NEOPOLITAN AND THE GOBLET OF FIRE (REVISED)  
**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **AN UNEXPECTED RESCUE**

As the old cliché went, it wasn't the fall that killed you, it was the sudden stop at the bottom. Then again, when said fall was through windy skies lousy with Grimm, and all you had slowing your fall was an umbrella, well, you might end up dead before you hit the ground at terminal velocity anyway. And the girl currently flying out of control through said Grimm-infested skies, lit only by the light of a shattered moon, knew that all too well.

Through an earpiece she had, to listen to any orders from her boss and big brother, she heard their target, an annoyance by the name of Ruby Rose, yell, " _I don't care what you say. We WILL stop them, and I WILL stop you! **BET ON THAT!**_ "

 ** _Ha_**. As if life ever turned out like it did in a fairytale. True, the girl currently gliding uncontrollably through the air, buffeted by air currents and the wakes of Grimm attacking, had helped in this plan. But that was because her big brother was made an offer he couldn't refuse. And if it meant surviving…well, the girl knew about surviving. Friends and family had a bad tendency to betray you. That was how she came here. Only her big brother, the criminal known as Roman Torchwick, had never betrayed that trust. They had helped each other out time and again.

Still, that Little Red Riding Brat was a good fighter, she had spirit. Hell, even at her most vulnerable, Ruby even managed to force the girl's favourite weapon, the Pernicious Parasol(1), to open, hence her current predicament. Oh, she could teleport, but it was hard teleporting onto moving objects at times, especially one going as fast as the Atlas airship. And she needed to concentrate, a bit hard when you were being buffeted around by the wind.

After the brief sound of a battle, she heard her big brother say, " _You've got spirit, Red! But this is reality! And reality is **cold!** It doesn't give a shit about spirit! You want to be a hero so bad? Then you can **die** , just like every other Huntsman! And I'll do what is best for me, lie, steal, cheat, and **survive!**_ " Suddenly, a muffled cry of pain, and then, a strange, sonorous beat, followed by muffled screaming, both human and not. With a thrill of horror, the girl realised that the microphone, along with the holder, had been eaten by a Grimm.

 _Big brother_ , she mouthed. Tears trickled from her eyes, one pink, one brown. She thought, _You gambled…and you lost. **We** lost. Cinder, Emerald and Mercury, and that witch they answer to…they don't care about us. Neither do the White Fang. They've gotten what they want. Hell, Little Red Riding Brat gets to survive…for now. Unless that damn Grimm decides it wants seconds. I hope it does_.

A roar, and she was forced to try and kick away a Griffon. Which was somewhat laughable, but it discouraged it…but it also sent her spinning out of control through the skies, her umbrella's canopy inverted. Now she was freefalling, and even teleporting to the ground would end up with her dying anyway. It only mitigated momentum so much, and her Semblance could only do so much either.

As much as Roman disdained fairytales, the girl really, badly wanted a fairytale ending right about now. She didn't want to be a princess, though. All she wanted to do was live, even if the happily ever after bit was optional.

As she plummeted through the skies, she heard a voice speak. An old, powerful voice that seemed familiar. " _Rose Harriet Potter?_ "

Irritably, she thought, even as the ground rushed up to meet her, _That is not my name! It hasn't been for years!_

This peevish thought may have been the last she ever thought, when she was suddenly consumed by a blast of azure flames…

* * *

For years afterwards, her disappearance was the subject of considerable concern within Remnant. Many thought she had died. Others thought she had merely gone to ground, perhaps too traumatised by the death of a man whom she was partners with to get up to any more mischief and malice. Or maybe she was plotting some sort of revenge. These concerns were a source of minor anxiety to both sides, though the entity known as Salem merely thought of her as a pawn whose use had ended.

In truth, the mute girl who had stood by Roman Torchwick's side had been snatched back home, to a world that didn't bask in the light of a shattered moon. A world that had abandoned her…and yet even now, had reached out to take her back.

And that was a mistake they would come to regret…

* * *

When you grow to be as old as Albus Dumbledore, you gain a litany of regrets as long as your arm, if not longer. And one of the causes of many of them were the Potters and Sirius Black.

When that fateful night occurred, when Lily Potter sacrificed herself to protect her children, James Potter survived. At the time, Albus felt only relief. But over time, he wondered whether Lily should have survived in his stead. A boy he had been fond of, like a substitute grandchild, had grown up to become a spoiled, wilful glory hound…and while those were Severus' words rather than Albus', the old wizard felt Severus, behind all the bitterness and spite clouding his judgement, had a point.

Rumours had reached his ears of how James had treated his near-Squib of a daughter, one who had been utterly mute since that night. It was partly the apparent lack of magic (not a complete absence) that led Dumbledore to name her younger brother the Boy Who Lived…the prophecy, after all, named a child of Lily Potter to be the one with the power to vanquish Voldemort. Not which one.

And then, the kidnapping. Or at least what James Potter had claimed to be one. Albus' contacts within the Department of Mysteries suggested another story entirely. There had been some unauthorised use of a few of the chambers on the night Rose Harriet Potter went missing, including the Death Chamber, the one with the Veil.

But he couldn't confront James. Leaving aside the man's political power (which, while on the wane now, was substantial, thanks to him riding high on his son's reputation as the Boy Who Lived), Albus had no proof whatsoever, just some unnerving coincidences. James had come to Hogwarts to greet the delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang last night, and had left for his seat at Potter Manor this morning. Albus had the notion that James had been up to something.

The truth was, James believed himself to be a scion of the Light, and Dumbledore's true successor. There may have been a time when Albus believed that, or had wanted that, but his attempts to groom James Potter into that role were rejected after that fateful night. James had his own views of how to run Magical Britain…and as far as he was concerned, they were the only way. He turned out to be a Blood Purist almost as bad as any Slytherin, perhaps even worse, exploiting Muggleborns for ideas, and then discarding them when they weren't of any use.

And allied with Sirius Black, well, they were a force to be reckoned with in the Wizengamot. Fudge spent time torn between Malfoy and his alliance's gold, and that of James and Sirius'. And despite being Chief Warlock, Dumbledore was relatively powerless to stop their crusade.

Not that they all had it their way. Their domineering attitudes had alienated many once-allied families, like the Longbottoms and the Tonks. What people considered to be the Light was falling apart. And at the worst possible time too, as Albus had heard dark rumours in Albania. The riot at the Quidditch World Cup and its conclusion didn't help matters either. Voldemort was on the rise, looking to be resurrected once more, and Albus knew that, even amongst those who would believe him, they were divided.

Trying not to look like he had such heavy thoughts, Dumbledore prepared to make the announcements for the Champions for the Tri-Wizard Tournament. While he agreed that international cooperation was a good thing, he felt that Crouch and Bagman were just trying to make the British Ministry of Magic look good. And Bagman was overly fond of potentially-lethal spectacle for Albus' liking.

The first name came out, and Albus announced the name of Viktor Krum as the Champion of Durmstrang. Rather unfortunate that that school had such an emphasis on learning the Dark Arts, and not for defence, either. Still, the Goblet chose Krum as a paragon, Dumbledore supposed, and the boy was excellent at Quidditch.

The second name was Fleur Delacour of Beauxbatons. A part-Veela, and doubtless the object of envy and lust. A bit snobbish, a bit like the stereotype of the French, but she was also the daughter of a famous Auror in France. And certainly one of Beauxbatons' top students.

The third and final name was Cedric Diggory, chosen to be Champion of Hogwarts. Ah, how delightful! Pomona would be so proud that the Hufflepuffs, long denigrated as 'duffers', got a chance to shine. Why did people look down on loyalty, hard work and tenacity? Amos would be proud.

Albus, however, made the mistake of believing everything had gone according to plan. In truth, Halloween had been something of an ill-omened day for him. And for others, true, but Quirrell unleashed a troll three years ago, and Ginny Weasley, under the influence of the Horcrux diary, released the Basilisk two years ago. Last year, Peter Pettigrew escaped Azkaban on this day.

The Goblet flared once more, much to Albus' surprise. And the name of Charles Potter came out. His eyes flickered over to the Boy Who Lived.

He had to admit, the boy was both a disappointment, and yet a vindication. Spoiled by fame, and sometimes acting it, he had nonetheless risen to the occasion during the incidents here. Brown-haired, green-eyed, he looked like James and Lily's child. A bit too arrogant for his liking at times, and there were times when he reminded Albus of a young Tom Riddle, but the shock on his face when Albus announced his name was apparently genuine.

Of course, as Charles slunk into the antechamber to wait with the other Champions, the surprises didn't end there. The Goblet flared once more, and another parchment appeared. Dumbledore caught it, and then, he paled. "How could this be?" he asked quietly. Then, loudly, he spoke three words, six syllables, that had a chill run down the spines of those present at the sheer impossibility of it.

"Rose Harriet Potter."

Suddenly, in front of the Goblet, the floor seemed to burst into azure flames. And in its wake, a figure was lying, sprawled on the floor. A girl of indeterminate age, maybe a teenager, or a short and petite adult. But she could have been **_her_** age. She was dressed in white trousers, a white, midriff-baring blouse or jacket, her abdomen covered by a brown corset. She held an umbrella, broken, inverted by what could have been a gale. She wore necklaces.

Her hair was brown and pink, the pink parts having slight white streaks through them. As she opened her eyes, he saw that one was brown, and the other pink. She sat up, her face (there was no mistaking that face) twisted into a grimace of pain, though no groan escaped her lips. At best, a soft sigh, but it sounded like a thunderclap in the hush the Great Hall had fallen under.

The moment she realised where she was, she was on her feet, with surprising agility, even elegance. Dumbledore knew, though, that she was dangerous. Beneath the casual, even cocky demeanour, she was at the ready, even with that umbrella, which she had managed to put back into place and close, over her shoulder. And then, her mismatched eyes met his own. And narrowed.

"Rose Potter?"

Dumbledore's voice cut across the Great Hall. He had seen this materialisation, but he wasn't sure he could believe it. Rose Potter was dead, or so James had claimed. Rose had become a symbol of his failures almost as much as Rose's mother…and Ariana. And yet, here she was. Changed, yes, but the shape of her face was right, even if the hair and eye colour was odd.

The girl's gaze lessened slightly in its hostility. She plucked from a pocket what looked like a Muggle device, apparently made of a transparent screen. It looked decades in advance of anything Dumbledore knew of. She tapped on the screen for a bit, before she scowled, and then tapped on it again. A hiss of frustration escaped her lips, before she began tapping on it as if she was typing. Eventually, she walked over to him, and showed him the screen.

On the screen was a simple sentence of text. It read: _That is not my name_.

Dumbledore blinked. What had happened to her? Why was she refusing to answer to her name? Trying to be diplomatic, he asked, "Well, what name do you want me to call you?"

After a moment, she typed more into that device of hers, before she showed him the message. He had to admit, it was an unusual name, a rather sweet name for a girl who was setting off his instincts for danger. Because he knew there was something truly dark within the girl. And yet, the name truly suited her, especially her colour scheme.

 _You may call me…Neopolitan_.

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Hoo boy. Neo is a female Harry, she's now in Hogwarts shortly after Roman got nommed by a Grimm, and she's stuck here with the wizards. Or maybe they're stuck here with her…**

 **Those who followed the original version of this chapter in _The Cauldron_ will notice that I took James Potter out of the equation. It felt tangled up otherwise. Neo and James would be at each other's throats, as they knew one another, and James wasn't buying the amnesia excuse thanks to her glare. So I decided to change things around. James is no longer a teacher at Hogwarts.**

 **1\. Neo's weapon doesn't have an official name, but I gave it one.**


	128. Spanner in the Works Chapter 1

**In a perverse way, this is me coming full circle. Very early on in my writing here on this website, I did a series of _Borderlands_ fics with an OC, the first story being called _Hooked on a Feeling_. This is me sort of revisiting that, but pairing Harry with Angel instead of an OC (and I hope to get Mad Moxxi in on the action as well: given her character, I don't think she'd object to being part of a bigamous relationship). It was partly inspired by Anubis of The Highway Thieves' _Of Jumping Dimensions and Drunken Marriages_ challenge (the drunken marriage will happen later on), and I have since posted my own challenge, _Misery Loves Company_ , on the forums of DZ2, whitetigerwolf, and Lupine Horror. While not strictly a Potterverse challenge, it will be the source of a couple of my next fanfics, I reckon, and certainly takes after some of my earlier fics, like the original version of _Lux in Tenebris Lucet_ , archived right here, and _Journey of the Sorcerer_.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy. The second chapter may be posted when I do a Christmas update, or sooner if I have another sample chapter to post for that update. I'm hoping to update a couple of my not-so-recently-updated fics with that update, with a new chapter of _Nitimur in Vetitum_ almost finished. Watch this space...**

* * *

 _ **SPANNER IN THE WORKS**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **AN ANGEL FOR ANGEL**

 _So, you wanna hear a story, huh? Well, sit right down, and I'll tell you one hell of a tale. It's an unbelievable tale, but I assure you, it's all true. Well, mostly._

 _Not so long ago, the fate of Pandora hung in the balance. There was the Vault, an alien prison opened by a mystical key, and filled with seemingly nothing more than tentacles and disappointment. To the Vault Hunters who opened it, it was an aggravating end to their quest, especially while trying to stop Atlas from running roughshod over Pandora. But to another, it was an opportunity._

 _There was a man called Handsome Jack, formerly Jack, a lowly programmer who nonetheless had big dreams and great ambitions. A man after my own heart, then, except he wanted it all for himself. He had a daughter, a darling little angel whom he locked up to exploit her powers, and when rumours reached him of another Vault on Pandora's moon, he sent his own team of Vault Hunters to find it, as well as to stop the actions of a rogue Dahl army. But circumstances conspired to scar him, physically and mentally, burning away the last vestiges of decency within him, and turning him into the monstrous CEO of Hyperion. After some DIY promotion, courtesy of guns, anyway. Didn't even buy them from yours truly, but I digress._

 _Anyway, the Vault on Pandora, when opened, triggered the proliferation of Eridium all across this world. And then, rumours abounded of another Vault, bringing with them a new wave of Vault Hunters. But while Handsome Jack sort to exploit them for his own ends, he remembered how he had been betrayed by the other Vault Hunters. He wanted to civilise Pandora for once and for all, the only way he knew how: by conquering it, and grinding any resistance into the dust. And one we thought a friend betrayed us, albeit unwillingly. And her only friend was a boy who grew up with her in her dreams. A boy who suffered like she did, and who proved to be her salvation…and ours._

 _Our story begins five years after the first Vault was opened. While it may sound like something of a story, the key to our salvation seemingly appeared out of thin air…_

* * *

The first thing he noticed on regaining consciousness was the wail of sirens, along with a computerised voice saying, " _Emergency. Emergency. Intruder detected in Control Core Angel._ " Angel, huh? Was he in the afterlife? But why would Heaven have computerised voices?

Then, he heard a voice, a man's voice, ring out over loudspeakers. " _Stay away from him, sweetie! We'll get him out of there in no time. And what the hell's up with the Eridium feeds?!_ "

His eyes opened, and he found himself looking…at an angel.

Which was not quite hyperbole. It was a young woman, about his age or maybe younger, wings of light spreading from her back. She had dark hair, with her right temple shaved, and cybernetic implants present. She was thin, too thin, blue-glowing lines along her body, that which wasn't covered by a figure-hugging suit. But she was also utterly beautiful. And very familiar.

Of course, the surroundings, heavily technological, seemed to disabuse any notions he was in an afterlife, especially as he seemed to be within some sort of forcefield area with the woman, in a vast chamber, with screens around the walls showing a man with lean features, wearing a mask. It was the man's voice he had heard, especially as he said, " _Okay, pal, you're gonna tell me how the freaking fuck you managed to get into Control Core Angel, whether it be some teleport thing or other, and then, I'm gonna perforate you!_ "

"Dad, he just appeared. I didn't sense a teleportation, only…only…it was like…almost like when I use my powers," the woman said. And her voice was very familiar.

The man, after a moment, said, " _Sweetie, the last time I checked, Sirens have no junk. They're always women. Now, he's a bit overdressed, so I can't tell whether he has tattoos or not, but_ …"

And then, it clicked for him. He had seen this woman before, haunting his dreams. She had done, ever since the cupboard, before the letters, before the giant of a man, before he learned he was a wizard. Growing up together in dreams, but never meeting in reality. Imaginary friends, they had thought each other.

A name came unbidden to his lips. "…Angel?"

 **ANGEL CLARKE(** **1)** **AS**

 **THE GUARDIAN ANGEL**

 **Alis Grave Nil(** **2)**

The woman started, and then looked down at him more closely. "…Harry?"

 **HARRY POTTER AS**

 **THE WIZARD**

 **Master of Death, Beeyatch!**

Harry got unsteadily to his feet, and looked at the masked man's image. "…Jack?"

 **HANDSOME JACK AS**

 **THE MASKED DOUCHEBAG**

 **Plutocratic Prick of Pandora**

"… _Harry?_ " This wasn't out of any recognition, but confusion from the masked man.

"…Rocky?" Angel suggested(3).

"… _Okay, who the fuck is this asshole, and why do you seem to…wait, I know that name. You said something about some Harry being your imaginary friend in your dreams._ "

"And here I was thinking Angel made up stories about how bad her father was in comparison to my relatives to make me feel better," Harry said, glaring at Jack. "I'm sorry for ever doubting you, Angel. I really am."

" _Angel, don't talk to the intruder. We'll get him out of there soon enough._ "

"He's the first person I've met in person for years, you bastard! Give me some…YAAARRGGHHH!" She convulsed and screamed in pain.

" _Language!_ " Jack chided, before Angel subsided.

Harry screamed, "Leave her alone, you bastard!"

" _Ooh, wow, how creative. Seriously, gotta let me know who writes your material, kiddo. I might give him a call sometime never. I mean, you really think you're the hero here? You're not. What you are, is an intruder, getting waaay too close to my daughter for my liking. And if you take her away, you're going to kill her. Those tubes? They're all that's keeping her alive._ "

Harry paused for a moment, only for Angel to look up and glare at the screens. "Not anymore. I don't feel Eridium running through my veins. There's something else." She looked at Harry. "If you can use that trick to get out of here and take me with you, do it. I'd rather be dead than stuck here anymore."

" _No, you can't do this to me, Angel!_ "

"Oh? By the way, Dad, if I don't see you again, there's one last thing I want you to know." Her glare intensified. "You're an asshole."

Harry wouldn't have done so, normally, helping someone in a way that could kill them, but something in the woman's desperate expression had him make the decision. _Well, time to charge in where angels fear to tread, Gryffindor-style_ , he thought. He leapt up, grabbed Angel, concentrated, and then the familiar sensation, like he was toothpaste being squeezed from a tube, occurred, the last thing he heard being the frustrated howl of Handsome Jack…

* * *

…And suddenly, they were tumbling along cold concrete streets, and smacked heavily into a dumpster. Angel, rather unsteadily, got to her feet, and helped Harry to his feet, as he had been unceremoniously used as her cushion between herself and the dumpster. Her wings of light faded as she did so. "Sorry," she said. Then, after a moment, she flung her arms around him, and sobbed. "You were real! Oh, you were real!"

Harry's sentiments were pretty much the same, but while he wasn't exactly getting the life hugged out of him, given how scrawny her limbs were, it was still awkward enough for him to remain silent. He hadn't believed she was real either, despite them haunting each other's dreams since they were young.

She brushed up his fringe, looking at the faded scar, tracing it gently with a finger, looking at it with something akin to awe. Not the awe too many people showed when they saw the scar, but a different one. It was as if she had found out that, despite being told the opposite, Santa was real. Then, she snatched her hand away, embarrassed. "Sorry, it's just…I still can't get over that you're real, Harry."

"Neither can I. Angel, are you feeling all right? I mean, you told me about that Eridium feed the last time we met in our dreams, and Jack was going on about that."

Angel blinked, then she felt her face. "Yes…I feel better than I have done since Dad hooked me up to an Eridium feed…" After a moment, Angel said, looking down the street they had ended up in, "We're not far from Moxxxi's. We'll talk there. I think we both can do with a drink…"

* * *

The city they were in was grungy, dirty, and filled with rather dubious and desperate-looking people. They watched Harry and Angel warily. Harry supposed he couldn't blame them: while not exactly fresh, his clothes were less worn than theirs were, and Angel's skinsuit looked somewhat out of place, even here. They made their way into a bar, the air filled with music, and then they sat down at the bar.

A most extraordinary woman approached them. Buxom and heavily made-up, she was nonetheless very sexy, dressed in what looked like a fetishized version of the Mad Hatter's outfit. Her expression was curious and a little wary, but not as hostile as some of the others. "Well, well," she purred. "Some newcomers to Sanctuary? A young man and a Siren? And what brings you to my establishment? I mean, aside from the obvious? What'll be your poison?"

"Lager if you've got it," Harry said. "I dunno what she wants."

"Lightest beer that you've had. I haven't drunken anything in my life, and it's past time I got started," Angel said.

"Bad day, huh?" the woman asked, before strutting over and filling some glasses. "Let me guess, you two got screwed over by Handsome Jack, and ended up here?"

"Yes," Angel said. "We're here to see Roland, but for now, I need a drink badly. This guy, Harry, he's a newcomer to Pandora. Me, well, I've been here for years now, though I only just managed to get away from Hyperion with Harry's help."

"Oh, a newcomer to Pandora, huh?" the woman asked, before smiling at Harry. "The name's Mad Moxxi."

 **MAD MOXXI**

 **Buxom Beautiful Bloodsoaked Bartender**.

"Does your Siren friend have a name?"

"Angel," Angel said. And when Moxxi looked at her sharply, apparently in recognition, Angel held up her hands. "I'm not here to fight. I'm here to seek asylum here from Jack. I didn't want New Haven to happen!" she hissed urgently.

Moxxi peered at Angel, before nodding. "Okay. Well, it's going to be Roland you're going to have to convince, sugar. Anyway, you're far from the first girl to get screwed over by Jack."

"Oh, believe me, I know. I was watching that whole debacle between you two," Angel said.

Moxxi pursed her lips, before nodding. "Tell you what. For now, I'll give you these drinks on the house. I'll shout you them, as they say on Elpis(4)."

As Harry contemplated his glass, he thought about how he came to be here. It had been so stupid. That bastard Draco Malfoy had shown his true colours again, and had started coming after his friends. The Weasleys, save for Arthur, Ron and George, were dead (and the last time he had spoken with Molly and Ginny, they had had a row with him over breaking up with Ginny, so that made their demise without them making up all the more poignant). Hermione had been nearly crippled. And when Harry went on the rampage against Malfoy's new army of snake-suckers, he had been labelled the villain by _The Daily Prophet_ for ending so many Pureblood lines.

During the final battle, Draco had pulled out a Portkey and threw it at him, claiming it would send Harry somewhere else, long enough for Draco to kill everyone Harry held dear. Even as it arced towards him, Harry killed Draco with a Sectumsempra, Draco's madly-grinning head toppling off his shoulders just as the Portkey hit him, and sent him here. It had disintegrated on arrival, though.

Probably just as well. If he didn't know any better, he was in the future. And on some world that was already giving him some Mad Max vibes. Wasn't Pandora meant to have a lot of tall, blue-skinned space elves or something(5)?

Harry then said, "Okay, stupid question, but where the hell are we? Both this city and this planet?"

Moxxi laughed. "Really? You don't know where you are? I mean, on this planet?"

"Moxxi, he literally appeared out of thin air next to me," Angel said. "In fact…I think he's from the 21st Century."

Moxxi frowned, then peered at Harry and his clothes. "I didn't think robes were the in-thing in the 21st Century. So…what, a newly-defrosted human popsicle? Well, you certainly look new to Pandora. It's a hellhole, the sort of world that'd chew you up and spit you out, if you're lucky. Used to be that the only people here worked for the mining companies, or were part of a penal colony, mostly the Dahl Corporation. Then, people caught wind of the Vault."

"The Vault?" Harry asked.

"One of many such things left behind by the Eridians, an ancient alien species," Angel said. "The first one was discovered on Promethea by the Atlas Corporation. It advanced technology by decades if not centuries, mostly in terms of weapons. Another such Vault would bring the one who found and opened it wealth beyond the dreams of avarice. So, mercenaries and treasure hunters came here. They called them the Vault Hunters. You'll get to meet one of the successful ones later, Roland, formerly of Atlas. He now leads the Crimson Raiders here, and is effectively the leader of Sanctuary, and thus the resistance against Jack."

Moxxi nodded. "And Sanctuary is a city built on an old Dahl mining ship. We're basically the main haven for those who oppose Handsome Jack. Roland was one of the four Vault Hunters who opposed Atlas and opened the Vault. I'm sure he'll hear you out."

"Even given what I did with New Haven?" Angel asked.

"I said he'll hear you out, sugar. Whether or not he has you shot afterwards is up to him," Moxxi said with a shrug. "Another reason I'm giving you free drinks for now. If you do get shot, I'm just giving you a last drink."

"Charming," Harry said acidly. He wasn't sure what the hell was going on, but clearly there was some bad blood between Angel and the people here. Hopefully, it wouldn't end with them getting shot. Unfortunately, he didn't think they'd be so lucky…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry's on Pandora, and he's managed to rescue Angel. But how is she surviving without Eridium? And will Roland call for their execution?**

 **Oh, and despite what the caption had, Harry's not an immortal Master of Death in this story.**

 **1\. With my** ** _Borderlands_** **OC fic** ** _Hooked on a Feeling_** **, I gave Jack and Angel the last name of Clarke, after Dameon Clarke, the voice actor of Handsome Jack. It's the same here.**

 **2.** ** _Nothing is heavy with wings_** **in Latin.**

 **3\. Angel is referencing** ** _The Rocky Horror Picture Show_** **.**

 **4\. As many of the colonists of Elpis speak with an Aussie accent, I decided to use an Aussie idiom. To shout drinks is to pay for them.**

 **5\. Wrong Pandora. This isn't** ** _Avatar_** **.**


	129. It's the End of the World Chapter 1

**Now, before I get onto this really weird crossover (the next instalment of _Spanner in the Works_ will be posted with the upcoming early Christmas update, and thanks for putting _The Cauldron_ over 800 reviews now), a bit of news. The early Christmas update is coming up soon, and some of you will be pleased to note that some stories I haven't updated in a LONG time WILL be updated. If you haven't been reading my profile (and if you haven't, shame on you), then you won't know that chief amongst those belated updates will be new chapters of _Haemophilia_ and _Nitimur in Vetitum_. _Haemophilia_ hasn't been updated for a year now, and _Nitimur in Vetitum_ hasn't been updated for a year and a half, more or less. Hopefully, this will herald more frequent updates for them, particularly Haemophilia, but, well, no promises.**

 **Besides those two, I'm also updating _Yield to the Darkness, Ghost of Dalmasca, Neopolitan and the Goblet of Fire, Ignis Aurum Probat, Gorgon and Thanatos, Wings of the Forsaken_ , and _The Uncertainty Principle_. In addition, I am also updating the non-Potterverse stories _Xenagogy for Belligerent AIs and Dungeon Denizens, Light the Blue Touch Paper and Run Like Hell_ , and putting a sample chapter into _The Forbidden ANBU Files_.**

 **In what may excite you guys even more, I'm posting two new stories that had their origins right here in _The Cauldron_. _RWBY_ fans can rejoice, as I have watched enough of the series to confidently start posting _Under the Light of the Shattered Moon_ as a full story. And I will also be posting the first chapters of _Never Tear Us Apart_.**

 **Okay, now that that bout of shameless plugging is over, let's get to this story. It's weird where ideas come from. I've been meaning to do a crossover with the Cthulhu Mythos for some time (including an abortive _Sekirei_ crossover, as some of you might know, called _Madness, Chaos, and Wagtails_ ), but it wasn't until now that I've managed to find the right hook for it. People reading this will doubtlessly see the DNA of my _Batman_ crossover _Verdant Magic_ in it, and while nowhere near as cracky as _On the Delights of Drinking Blood_ , it will have a not dissimilar tone, as well as having elements from _Puella Magi Luna Magica_. I was also inspired a little by _Haiyore! Nyaruko-San_ , as well as a webcomic I used to read before it got put on hiatus called _Ow! My Sanity_ , which is basically _Oh My Goddess_ meeting the Cthulhu Mythos. The title took a bit of work, but in the end, it was pretty damned obvious.**

 **The reason I am posting this now is that, if I write enough chapters, I might just post this for the Christmas update. After all, who doesn't want eldritch abominations around Christmas time?**

* * *

 _ **IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT, AND I FEEL FINE**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **THE DOOM THAT CAME TO LITTLE WHINGING**

Many things were forbidden to the young Harry Potter when he was growing up in the prison…sorry, _home_ of his relatives at 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. Some of those prohibitions fell away when he went to Hogwarts, but others remained in place. But with his being isolated by the people he had thought of as friends, at a time when he thought he needed it most, after Cedric's death, these edicts chafed at him more than ever.

And the weird dreams, too. Not just the nightmares, of Cedric, the graveyard, of Voldemort and the Death Eaters. No, these dreams of strange and horrifying creatures, dreams that were almost literally indescribable. They disturbed him, and yet, they drew him in, enthralled them in a bizarre way.

In any case, he was finding his ability to give a fuck about any of the strictures of the Dursleys lessening. And one of those that he had been dying to break was about the attic. The hatch had tempted him from a young age, though the one time he had tried to break it…his aunt had broken his arm.

Well, this time, he was going to find out what his aunt was hiding. Maybe it was something of his mother's that that bitch Petunia hadn't burnt. Maybe it was monies. Or maybe it was something his mother meant for Harry, but Petunia had kept away from him out of spite.

Or, it could be useless pieces of shit. Or maybe it was a deformed evil brother of Dudley (or wouldn't that make him the good twin, even if he was deformed?) kept in the attic because there was no room in the cupboard under the stairs, for obvious reasons? Harry had occasionally heard strange noises from the attic, after all.

So, when Vernon and Petunia went off to watch Dudley's boxing match, Harry took his chance. They'd be gone for a few hours at least. So once he was sure they were gone, he got out a stepladder, and clambered up to the hatch, ready to pull it down. He snarled quietly in pain as he whipped his hand away from the latch. When he touched the metal latch, it felt like an electric shock. Touching it again, though, got no such reaction. Must've been static or something.

He pulled the hatch down, and climbed up into the attic. Thankfully, he had thought to bring a torch as he moved through the dusty attic. An attic, he was sure, nobody had really been in for years. The dust was thicker than Dudley's skull, and that was saying something. He was surprised that Petunia hadn't ordered him to clean up here, given that they made him their own personal House Elf, but still…

There were piles and piles of junk. Some of it he recognised as detritus from Dudley's second room, the one he now occupied. Shit that the spoilt little fat brat had demanded, broken, and discarded, no matter how expensive it was. Harry recognised an old NES and a Sega Master System, a few action figures, a broken globe…all of it wasted on an ungrateful little bastard.

He hated it. He hated lacking power. He didn't want for fame over in Magical Britain, but that could easily turn to infamy, as his second year, as well as the Tri-Wizard Tournament, showed. But he had been so powerless. He had been forced to flee Voldemort with his tail between his legs…though he had to wonder why his mother didn't appear during that whole spectacular lightshow. That had been mildly disturbing. Did that mean his mother was alive somewhere? In a coma? Or had she abandoned him?

And he found himself becoming more and more misanthropic (wouldn't Hermione be surprised to learn he knew such a word?). And that had only increased the longer he went without letters from his so-called friends, despite them promising to write. No, they had left him in the dark, leaving him to Durzkaban, with no news of what was happening in Magical Britain.

He was preoccupied by such thoughts that he didn't notice the coffin until he had all but tripped over it. In fact, he actually did trip over it. As he lay sprawled on the lid, he felt a sharp pain shoot through his body, and he began to convulse and spasm as if being electrocuted. He couldn't even scream, all he could do was jerk and writhe.

Then, everything seemed to dissolve into an actinic light…

* * *

In the office of Albus Dumbledore, the Sorting Hat froze, before a smirk came over its 'lips'. Thankfully, Dumbledore was conspicuous by his absence, and only Fawkes was really present to see the smirk. "Do you feel what I feel, Feather Duster?"

Fawkes emitted a trill of both confirmation and annoyance, the latter directed at the rather tattered hat. "Well…someone is in a LOT of trouble…after all, the Crawling Chaos has been freed…"

* * *

Within the Department of Mysteries, the Veil uttered whispers. Whispers that sounded like milliards of souls hissing simultaneously, in the utmost terror and fear, _Oh_ _ **SHIT**_ …

* * *

Within the bowels of Azkaban, the bowels (or at least whatever passed for them) of the Dementors roiled and boiled. And for the first time in a very long time, though not long enough for them, the Dementors felt an emotion that they weren't exactly fans of.

Fear.

* * *

As she watched from the stands of the boxing ring, Petunia Dursley, top contender for Biggest Bitch of Little Whinging for over a decade, felt something like a cold chill run down her spine. And she knew, just knew, that something truly bad had just happened…and it wasn't the fact that her son had just lost a tooth…

* * *

Across the Earth, across the cosmos, vast beings barely comprehensible by human minds slumbered uneasily, knowing, even within the depths of their sleep, that one of their number had returned…though some slept uneasily because of eager anticipation…

* * *

" _Hurry, you fools!_ " snarled Ragnuk, the ruler of the Goblins, in Gobbledegook. " _If that one finds anything out of place, it will mean our uncertain doom!_ "

"… _Don't you mean certain doom, Lord Ragnuk?_ " asked another Goblin.

" _I know what I said, you imbecile! This is a being you do NOT want to piss off! This is no weakling wizard! This is an_ _ **Outer God!**_ "

* * *

In a dark house, a teenaged girl paused in the middle of reading a tome of eldritch lore. Why did she have this odd sensation?

* * *

If someone was in possession of a magical eye, they would have seen what looked like a tempest of magical energy, centred on 4 Privet Drive. A multi-coloured tornado that swirled around violently, like the diarrhoea of a rainbow swirling down a drain after being flushed down the toilet (and that metaphor is, officially, dead). Not enough to make the trees or bushes do more than sway, or the house to do more than creak a little, but that was because most of the magic was affecting things on a different plane of existence.

Of course, one of the watchers assigned to 4 Privet Drive was Mad-Eye Moody, and he could have seen this happen, and understood what it meant. However, he wasn't there. In fact, instead, the assigned watcher was one Mundungus Fletcher, a man who didn't really care about watching over the Boy Who Lived, being, instead, a dodgy spiv who preferred to either get drunk and pass out under an Invisibility Cloak, or else going off to make various dodgy deals.

It was the latter he was currently engaged in, trying to sell off some broomsticks that had fallen off the back of the Knight Bus, no questions asked or answered. Which meant that, when things happened, nobody was around to witness it. And while the events to follow could not be blamed entirely on him, he certainly could have notified someone, had he actually noticed something.

But he didn't…

* * *

Well, it was official. This had made it right to the top of the most painful experiences he had ever had. He never thought anything would be above being given the Cruciatus by Voldemort, or being bitten by a Basilisk. But what do you know? This actually succeeded in supplanting those.

He felt cool, soothing hands stroking his cheek. "My darling boy," he heard someone coo. A voice familiar to him from the memories dredged up by the Dementors' aura. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Harry's eyes flickered open, revealing that he was in the lap of a young, red-haired woman with emerald eyes. A beautiful woman, who looked very familiar. Well, she ought to be. She was his mother.

And…she was naked. And apparently not caring.

With a yelp of surprise, Harry shot off her lap, scooting backwards. "What…who…why…huh?" he stammered.

Lily Potter sighed, pouting slightly, before she snapped her fingers. Black shadows seemed to writhe across her body, and when they were done, she was dressed in a rather slinky, figure-hugging dress with a sort of dark cape or shawl along the back…which still managed to show some cleavage in the front(1). "There. Better?"

After a moment, Harry managed to engage his brain again, and said, "No. How…how can you possibly be still alive?"

"I think the better question is, why am I here?" Lily said. "Not that I can prove who I am to you. Not unless we go to Gringotts, anyway." She pursed her lips. "So, where should I begin? Well, when you fell across my little coffin, and things happened, I saw your memories, so I'll fill in the bits you don't know. It wasn't love that saved you from Voldemort, at least not directly. It was my love for you, true, that motivated me, but I had every intention of surviving that night. A little Killing Curse can't kill one such as me."

Harry had to wonder what she meant by that, but she continued. "Of course, I needed to put on a convincing act, so down I went. Then, Voldemort turned his wand on you. Now, had you been more grown, that wouldn't have inconvenienced you so much, but I had to awaken your powers enough to survive that night. Unfortunately, someone had other plans. I was sealed up in this coffin. Normally, such a thing would be a trifle to me, but unfortunately, awakening your power sapped a lot of mine, and on top of being hit with the Killing Curse…well, I wanted to keep this body. It has good sentimental value, you know?" Lily then cupped a breast briefly. "I mean, regenerating a body can be a real bitch, and well, I was betrayed, weakened beyond what I thought. So, I got locked away in the coffin. I was delivered up here, and every now and then, Petunia would have a good gloat at me. That's why she kept you out of the attic."

"Because I would free you?"

"Oh, that was entirely accidental. There are wards here keeping me in place, as well as restricting the entirety of your powers, powers that, well, they'd make the sheeple here turn on you in an instant. And those very wards were powered by your own powers. Really, the only thing that could keep beings like us imprisoned is the power of another such entity. A cruel irony, considering they used my son to do so. But, well, the funny thing was, I don't think that they tried hard enough to keep you out, save for a small ward you overloaded by accident. The runes work is pretty sloppy, and the arithmancy was done in a hurry. Oh, it was good stuff, but it'd have to be to keep us under control. But it was also done with some haste. Which'll be their downfall. You see, your power was used to power the wards keeping me here. But when you got close to the epicentre of the wards, making contact with my prison the way you did basically caused the equivalent of a short-circuit. I don't think they would have foreseen that. I certainly didn't. Rather annoying I didn't think of it first, but…well, I'm out now. And I'm mildly vexed."

"…Mildly vexed that you were kept in a coffin for nearly fifteen years?" Harry was on the verge of turning sixteen. And he would have thought that anyone would be more than mildly vexed at being imprisoned for so long.

"Oh yes. It's not the first time that it's happened, though it's the first time for a millennium or two. Bloody embarrassing when it happens, though. Which reminds me, **_never_** go on a pub crawl with someone with access to the actual _Necronomicon_. It never ends well."

"The Necro…nomicon?" Harry knew of that book. Out of boredom, he had read various books at the local library, one of his few retreats from the Dursleys. And that included the works of HP Lovecraft. Racist as all hell, and the language was pretty dry and overly long and lyrical, but Lovecraft did know how to make a good atmosphere. And he felt a feeling of dread crawl up his spine at the implications.

"Oh, you know? Well, this should be easy, even if Lovecraft deliberately misrepresented me. I swear, that stupid racist agelastic(2) bastard…I should never have agreed to those interviews. Anyway, I should really tell you who I really am, son. I'm not sure that you'd believe me, but, well, it's true." Lily grinned. "I'm your mother, Lily Evans, though most people know me as the Crawling Chaos, Nyarlathotep." She gave a little wave and a big grin. "Hi."

This proved to be too much for Harry. Understandably, he fainted, the last thing he heard before the darkness of unconsciousness consumed him was his mother saying, "Was it something I said?"

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Oh dear. Lily Evans was really Nyarlathotep? And Harry's powers were used to imprison her? So, who imprisoned her? Well, let's find out…**

 **The whole reaction thing was partly based on my** ** _Puella Magi Madoka Magica_** **two-shot crossover** ** _Puella Magi Luna Magica_** **. I wholeheartedly recommend it, if only because you get to see Kyuubey getting owned by Luna.**

 **1\. I was thinking something along the lines of Salem's outfit from** ** _RWBY_** **.**

 **2\. An agelast is someone who is not known to laugh or show any mirth. TV Tropes' picture of Lovecraft shows him trying, and failing miserably, to smile.**


	130. It's the End of the World Chapter 2

**Before I get on with the story, I'd like to say to one of the guest reviewers, TJG... _Please_ pay more attention next time. I explicitly said in the preamble to the first chapter that one of my inspirations for this story was _Ow! My Sanity_. In fact, we'll be seeing a Shub-Niggurath who was inspired by _Ow! My Sanity_ in the next chapter, if and when this comes to be published as a full story.**

 **Anyway, here comes the next chapter. I'm gratified the first chapter got good reviews, and hopefully, if my muse allows me, I might just write enough chapters for this story to be uploaded as part of the Christmas update. No promises, though.**

* * *

 _ **IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT, AND I FEEL FINE**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **MY MOTHER CAN'T POSSIBLY BE THE CRAWLING CHAOS!**

Harry woke up to the smell of cooking, his nostrils twitching. He found himself, much to his confusion, on the lounge. And he could hear merry whistling from the kitchen. With some trepidation, wondering whether this was a dream or a nightmare, he walked into the kitchen.

"Well, this isn't a dream or a nightmare," the voice of his mother said, wearing an apron as she fried bacon and eggs in the frying pan on the stove. The apron had, on the front, what looked to be the Sign of Hastur. "Believe me, I know. I've done my share of trekking through them, even if Lovecraft got that crap with Carter wrong. Sorry, I was feeling a mite peckish. I mean, technically, I don't need to eat, but when you've been cooped up for almost fifteen years in a coffin, you get the oddest cravings. And I want cholesterol and protein. Pregnancy's worse, though. Have you ever wanted Shoggoth soup? That's not as easy as going down to Tesco's or Marks and Spencer for it. Anyway, you want any? I mean, I was going to have it all, but I can share."

Harry looked at the veritable mountain of bacon and eggs she had cooked already, sitting in a veritable mountain on a platter. It was almost as big as a Dalek, and probably just as deadly, even if only in the long term. "Uhhh…I won't say no to a little?"

"Sure. Anything for my son. Now, I know what you're thinking. Why, oh why, aren't I appearing as some sinister-looking Egyptian? Well, I can shapeshift, I get bored. I like a bit of variety. And having breasts. Plus, Lovecraft pretty much ground that whole evil Pharaoh thing into the dust, and I wanted to experience a human life, more or less. Like I said, I get bored. I mean, I'm so old, if I had an affair with Nicholas Flamel, I'd be seen as cradle snatching." She pursed her lips. "Now there's a thought. Maybe I should look the Flamels up, see if they're still open to having a threesome."

In an attempt not to think of his mother as being involved in a threesome with the Flamels, Harry said, "…Actually, they're dead."

"No, they're **_not_**. I saw your memories, but Dumbledore probably fed you BS. Or, more likely, they fed **_him_** BS. The Flamels aren't likely to have given him a real Philosopher's Stone. Considering I was the one who gave it to them in the first place, I'd be really annoyed if they did."

Harry shook his head. "And how the hell could you be the Crawling Chaos? There's no way you can be! I mean, always assuming that this isn't some Death Eater trick!"

"If it was a Death Eater trick, you'd probably be in Voldemort's hands, under the Cruciatus by now. Incidentally, I'm proud of you with what you did during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Facing off against a dragon is no mean feat when you have only the power of a human mage," Lily said. "And what you did when fighting Voldemort. Of course, if you had full access to your power, well, you would have squashed him like a cockroach beneath your foot. Squish."

Harry didn't know what to say to that, sitting down shakily at the dining room table. Lily finished her cooking, and brought over the platter. She gave Harry a serving, and then brought the platter over to herself. "Sorry, this is going to be more than a little disturbing," she confessed, before her mouth distended in an _OH THAT'S SO VERY_ _ **WRONG**_ _ON SO MANY_ _ **LEVELS**_ way, and the bacon and eggs began going into her _OH_ _ **GOD**_ _WHAT IS THAT_ _ **THING**_ _IS THAT EVEN A_ _ **MOUTH?!**_ at high speed. Accompanied by a noise that sounded like the organic version of a _WHAT THE ACTUAL_ _ **HELL**_ _IS THAT_ _ **NOISE?!**_ vacuum cleaner. Then, it was over, and she was belching softly, her mouth back to normal. "Excuse me," she said.

Harry looked down at his plate, and then gingerly cut up his meal. Oddly enough, what he just saw didn't affect his appetite. Well, not enough to deter him from eating it, anyway. Actually, he was quite ravenous.

"Sorry about that," Lily said, patting her **_HOW_** _IN THE WORLD IS_ _ **IT**_ _NOT_ _ **DISTENDED?!**_ belly. "I was just so hungry, and, well, I didn't have the patience to do it any other way. I'm sure this is a shock, that learning that Lovecraft was…somewhat right, in broad strokes…and that your mother is Nyarlathotep."

"I can believe you're…something," Harry said.

"Hmm, maybe I shouldn't tell you about your father yet," Lily mused. "That's only going to make things worse. Long story short, James Potter isn't your father, partly because James was shooting blanks. He didn't know it, and I didn't see fit to enlighten him. I just put a special glamour onto you so you'd look like him. I'll have to wait until you are used to things before I tell you who daddy really is."

Harry nodded, only for the door to open in the distance. "BOY! YOU'D BETTER NOT BE STEALING ANY OF OUR FOOD!" bellowed Vernon after a brief pause.

"You haven't been stealing enough," Lily muttered darkly. And as the Dursleys entered, and saw Lily, her eyes **_FLASHED_** _WARPED_ _ **SCINTILLATED**_ _GLOWED_ _ **PULSED**_ strobed all the colours of the **_WHAT_** _WAS THAT_ _ **COLOUR?!**_ rainbow. They instantly collapsed, convulsing briefly, before subsiding.

"…Why did everything taste purple just then?" Harry asked.

"Oh, it was basically the mental equivalent of a stun grenade," Lily said. "I think I overdid it with my brother-in-law and my nephew. I knew my sister would probably have just enough intelligence and willpower to overwhelm a more casual attack, but…" She sniffed the air, and scowled. "Hmm. Vernon and Dudley have shit themselves. Maybe I've given them a stroke."

With that rather dark pronouncement, Lily strutted over, and pulled Petunia off the floor by the throat with one hand, and her scowl deepened. "Oh, so you did it too? This is not the time to join the Brown Trousers Club, my dear sister. That comes later." She gestured, and the dark stain on Petunia's dress disappeared. She then pulled Petunia over to another chair at the dining room table, and snapped her fingers twice. The first time, ropes secured Petunia to the chair. The second time, Petunia woke up. Her eyes narrowed upon seeing Lily, only for her eyes to bulge, and she vomited onto the table.

"Side effects of having your mind flayed may include nausea, myalgia, neuralgia, nostalgia, general delirium, incontinence, constipation, gastric reflux, and halitosis. If symptoms persist, see your doctor," Lily said cheerfully. "Hello, Tuney. I thought we'd have a talk."

Petunia glared at Harry. "You…you ungrateful little idiot! You went into the attic! You don't know what you've unleashed upon the world!"

"My mother," Harry said coldly. While part of him felt uneasy at this, another part of him remembered that this was the woman who starved him, hit him, looked on smugly as Vernon and Dudley beat the shit out of him.

"T-T-T-T-T," Lily said, tutting to get Petunia's attention. "Eyes on me, Tuney. Well, unless you'd like to look my son in the eyes and apologise for what you did to him."

"I will never apologise. It's not a crime to imprison a monster," Petunia sneered. "And what you and the boy are…you're even worse than monsters."

"Oh? I thought you'd be grateful, given the fact that it's only thanks to me that you had a baby sister."

"You are not my sister! My sister was miscarried, and my parents turned to the likes of **_you_** in their desperation! They sacrificed their magic, MY magic, in exchange for bringing you back to life!"

"See, Harry?" Lily asked. "This is why Tuney hates us both. Not because Howard gave me a bad write-up, but because she lost her magic…and I still had some. All because our parents wanted me to live."

"You are NOT Lily! You're just a devil my parents were tricked into giving a body!" Petunia screeched.

"I'm partly Lily. You can't wear the flesh of a human without taking on some of it. Not that you'd know. You're barely even human. Now, I'll be the first to admit that I am a cruel bitch. The things I've done for the hell of it…well, Howard got some things right. But really, Tuney? You weren't so smart, coming to my coffin and gloating like you did."

"The old goat said you'd be imprisoned in there forever!" Petunia sneered. "Dumbledore promised! He promised you'd be there forever and ever and EVER!" She then turned to Harry, and her sneer worsened. "Well, until you **_died_**. Then, the prison would become permanent. Goes to show I shouldn't have trusted the old goat!"

Harry stared at Petunia. " _What_ ," he said flatly.

"Oh _yes_ ," Petunia sneered. She was all but foaming at the mouth. "The old goat left you here, as the bars to this _monster's_ prison! Obviously, he didn't do a good enough job if you managed to get out!"

"You're showing a lot of bravado for a woman who's dead, even if she hasn't stopped breathing yet," Lily said.

"Oh, Dumbledore will have all sorts of alarms and things! And he'll be here to put you back where you belong!"

"If he was going to come here, he'd have been here long ago. And there's a distinct lack of goats, I think. Speaking of which, I really DO need to give Shubby a call. She's probably worried." She sighed quietly. "Well, given that I have probably been crueller than you overall over my eons of existence, I'd be hypocritical if I chided you for your cruelty…but I never said I wasn't a hypocrite. Anyway, imprisoning me cannot go unpunished, Tuney. I'm an Outer God, not a bloody djinn in a bottle. Then I'd be a djinn and tonic." There was no laughter at the bad pun, albeit from an audience of two. "No? Tough crowd. You're worse than when I tried to make Howard laugh. It took me slipping on a dog crap in a park for him to even smirk. And by Azathoth, that was horrifying. Seriously, normally he can't smile, and when he does, you know why that is. That smile could make Hastur pee himself, so it's a good thing he's the King in Yellow. Anyway, my point is, Tuney, I actually _tried_ to be a good sister to you. I _wanted_ to make you happy. And while I can't please everyone…you showed a remarkable lack of gratitude in keeping me prisoner and treating my son, a prince amongst the Outer Gods, like a slave."

"And? You are a monster. No, worse than that," Petunia sneered. She opened her mouth to continue, only to be unable to talk.

"Bored now," Lily said in a singsong tone. "You know, I've had plenty of time to think about what sort of punishment you deserve, Tuney, you and your family. After all, one should repay hospitality in kind. I had plenty of time to think in that coffin. One thing you should remember is that I get bored easily, and when you spend over a decade in a coffin, unable to do pretty much anything about that boredom, it's rather unpleasant, to say the least. So, here's what I'm going to do. You and your family are going to be found dead some time tomorrow, going out on an outing. Maybe a picnic or something, I'll figure it out. Someone killed you, maybe I could fake a Death Eater attack. But the thing is, while your bodies will be dead…your souls will be bound to your dead bodies. You'll be able to feel them decaying as you rot within your coffins. You can't move, you can't do anything but wait until your souls are released from your bodies, which they won't do until your bones are dust. And that can take a very long time. Decades, centuries…well, it may not be proportionate, but damn if it won't satisfy me."

Harry saw that Petunia's eyes flickered over to him, wide with fear, pleading with him. For a moment, he was moved, and he very nearly asked this…thing that claimed to be his mother to stop this. But then, he remembered the pitiless, merciless beatings, the abuse, the claims that his parents were drunkards and as worthless as he was. And the fact that she had imprisoned his mother, though he was trying not to think about how Petunia claimed that Dumbledore was involved. He was too overwhelmed by this whole situation, that his mother was the Crawling Chaos, to even think of protesting.

"You might want to look away, sweetie," Lily said. "I'm going to use my powers again, and you might be a bit disturbed."

Harry looked away, and so only saw a brief strobe of what looked like something from a black light, like those used to make certain paints glow in the dark. Then, he looked back, and Petunia was no longer tied up, though she was staring rather vacantly at nothing.

"Okay. Now that I've set the garbage out for collection, it's about time we went home," Lily said. Her tone then became more solemn, more gentle. More _caring_. "Come on, Harry. Let's go home…"

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Lily's revenge has just started. But will Harry be a willing participant? And will he be willing to come into his own with his powers?**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	131. Spanner in the Works Chapter 2

**Welp, I'm gratified at the response for _It's the End of the World as We Know It_ , so for those of you who want to read the full story, check out my profile. In the meantime, here's the second chapter of _Spanner in the Works_...**

* * *

 _ **SPANNER IN THE WORKS**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **RELUCTANT ACCEPTANCE**

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose as they sat in a cubicle Moxxi led them to. "So, let me get this straight. It's the 56th Century(1), we're light-centuries from Earth, and I'm on a shithole of a planet that's groaning under the yoke of a corporate twat who happens to be your sperm donor. And we're amongst your father's enemies, who might decide to shoot us."

"If you're lucky, they may only decide to shoot me," Angel said, apparently not offended by Harry calling her father a sperm donor. "And why did you ask me about the year?"

"Because I'm from the 21st Century. I was born in 1980. Anyway, you're a human with powers called a Siren, a very rare type of human, and your special ability is basically technopathy."

"Yes. And from the 21st Century?" Angel peered at him sceptically. "Why are you wearing robes? Are you an academic? Or were you cosplaying?"

"Not exactly. It's a long story. You could say I'm a bit like you, only I'm sure I don't have blue tattoos all over me. The short version is, I'm a wizard. Or rather, that's what we called ourselves back home. I personally call them self-important lazy idiots."

Angel snorted. "Even so, a wizard? Okay, you've definitely got abilities, at least that teleportation thing. And there's something…well, Dad hooked me up to a feed of Eridium for…reasons. Long story short, Eridium boosts the powers of Sirens, but we become addicted to it. In massive doses over a long period of time, we become so dependent on it…well, Dad estimated I would die within a minute of my Eridium feeds shutting off. And yet, here I am. I'm feeling…a power from you. Something that's taking the place of Eridium, keeping me alive."

That had Harry pausing for thought. Anything to keep his mind off the fact that he was a long way from home, and three and a half millennia into the future…and that it may be a one-way trip. Was it his magic keeping her alive?

He didn't notice the man coming up to them until he heard the deep voice say, rather calmly, "So…this is what you look like in real life. And here we were thinking you were an AI, when you're actually a Siren."

Harry turned to find a man with dark skin, muscled, wearing a military uniform, looking at them. His expression was calm, but calculating. Angel, when she saw him, sighed. "Yeah. A pretty far cry from what I looked like over the ECHOnet, right?"

The man nodded. "Still recognisable, though. I have to admit, I didn't believe Moxxi when she said that the Guardian Angel was here, and with company. For the benefit of your friend, I am Roland, leader of the Crimson Raiders."

 **ROLAND AS**

 **LEADER OF THE CRIMSON RAIDERS**

 **Si vis pacem, para bellum(** **2)**

Harry looked the dark-skinned man up and down. "Huh. I didn't think you'd be this calm."

"I'm going to listen. That's all I can promise you." Roland sat down next to Harry, and looked at Angel. "So, you're a Siren. That explains some things. And Moxxi told me you claim to be Jack's daughter."

"Yes. I didn't exactly help my father willingly, not after you guys opened the first Vault. While I was forced to stick to the script and I couldn't warn you about the Destroyer, I genuinely tried my best to help you. Unfortunately, after what happened with Zarpedon, and what Lilith did to Dad…well, you know what happened next. I didn't want to do it, but Jack had control mechanisms. If I didn't obey him, he would cause me pain."

"I saw it for myself," Harry said. "That prick tortured Angel just because she swore."

Roland nodded, digesting the information. In a way, the man reminded Harry of Kingsley Shacklebolt, and not because of the skin colour and muscular body. There was a calm and collected nature to Roland that seemed reassuring, even if his next words weren't. "I see. That doesn't make me feel any better, even if you're telling the truth. Too many people died at New Haven."

"I'm sure it wasn't. I was made to bring down the defences myself. I was even made to control some of the Loaders. But I…oh no!" Angel seemed to come to a sudden realisation. "I was too busy thinking of escape, I…dammit!"

"What do you mean?" Roland asked.

"…Jack was using me to charge the Vault Key," Angel said. "Normally, it takes two centuries, but a Siren, pumped full of Eridium, can catalyse a much faster recharging. And you may know that he is drilling for another Vault, the Vault of the Warrior. Of course, with me gone, his plans have been delayed somewhat. Not by much. Instead of a few weeks, it's a few months. It…well, it wasn't right next to me, but it was nearby. I could have found a way to grab it while we escaped, but I was more focusing on escape."

"Can he use any Siren?" Roland asked.

"Theoretically, but they need to be exposed to Eridium for some time before they can be of any use. The only Siren I know of is a new Vault Hunter who just arrived on Pandora, Maya. Jack had me vetting a group of Vault Hunters he could con into helping destroy Sanctuary by having me pull their strings. They may even arrive soon. They're not actually working for Jack, though."

Roland nodded. "I see." He closed his eyes, and considered things carefully. Eventually, he said, "I'll be blunt, Angel. A lot of people are angry about what you did to New Haven. But I will be willing to give you a chance, in exchange for telling me everything you know about Jack's plans."

"That's fine," Angel said. "I figured that's what you wanted at a bare minimum. I want sanctuary here at, well, Sanctuary, for both myself and Harry. I can also help guide the new Vault Hunters here. You'll need all the help you can get. And Roland? Jack doesn't know that Lilith is still alive. I've managed to keep that from him. I know she's working for you as the Firehawk."

"And how do you know?" Roland asked sharply.

"I'm a technopath," Angel said. "I can hack most computer systems, given time, and even if I couldn't affect Sanctuary's most vital systems without some sort of hardware to bypass the systems, I managed to hack Lilith's computers by accident while nosing around for info on the Firehawk. It wasn't hard to figure out you were chatting with Lilith, even if you were careful to not mention each other by name."

"Sorry, who's Lilith?" Harry asked.

"Dr Lilith Cashlin. Another Siren, and one of the original Vault Hunters," Angel said. "And Roland's ex."

At this, Roland looked embarrassed. "That's private correspondence," he said with a small cough. "I doubt that Lilith will be pleased to meet you, though learning you are a Siren may have her hold off on killing you first. At least for a time. Commandant Steele was a Siren, and that didn't stop her from trying to kill Lilith, or any of us. In any case, I'll have to go on a mission to deal with the Bloodshots before long. I'll try to fit in an initial debriefing."

"Harry stays with me," Angel said. "He's a newcomer to Pandora, and if he's telling the truth…well, he's come from a very long way away."

"Fine, but no funny business, or I will take you both down, hard. I am responsible for the lives of every person here, Crimson Raiders or civilians, and I don't want to risk their lives more than I have to…"

* * *

Roland took them from Moxxi's bar (the buxom bartender promising them rooms at her establishment), and to a building that doubled as some sort of command centre. Harry couldn't fail to notice that Angel looked very uncomfortable, which was hardly surprising if she had been forced to attack this New Haven place. Thankfully, nobody seemed to recognise her.

Eventually, they were brought to a command room, with a table in the centre with a hologram projected in the middle, and Harry sat down as Roland and Angel discussed things, things he didn't really listen to. Half of the stuff he couldn't have followed anyway. He was new to this time, to this world.

And it began to hit him, then and there. Malfoy had sent him over three millennia into the future, and light-centuries to another world. Some of his friends had still been alive at the time…but they weren't now. And he had no way of heading back to that time or place that he knew of.

The enormity of such a concept began to overwhelm him, and he put his face in his hands, and began to sob quietly. He was stranded on a faraway planet in the future. Even if he could get back to Earth, what was there for him? Even if he could somehow find a Time Turner, the only one he knew of could take him back hours, not the centuries he needed.

He didn't realise Roland and Angel had stopped their debriefing until he felt a slender arm around his shoulders, and a large hand on one of them. "Homesick?" Roland asked kindly.

"My friends are dead," Harry sobbed.

Angel said, "I think he's been in cryostasis until shortly before saving me. He claims to be from the 21st Century. And he's surprisingly ignorant about a lot of things. I can see the confusion in his eyes about things. But he also saved me from Jack. I told you that he somehow teleported between my prison at Thousand Cuts and here, and he teleported right next to me when he first came here. He claims to be a wizard."

"A wizard, huh? Sad thing is, I've seen weirder," Roland said, before kneeling down in front of Harry. "Hey, Harry," he said quietly. "If what Angel told me is true, you did good. You have just thrown a major spanner into the works of Handsome Jack's plans, and you saved at least one young woman's life from misery and slavery. That's more than most people would do on Pandora."

Harry looked at Roland through teary eyes, and scoffed bitterly. "An old friend of mine once told me, rather exasperatedly, that I have a 'saving people thing'. And given how Jack treated her…well, she told me to take her away, even if it meant her dying. I'm glad it didn't end up with her dead. So far."

"Fair enough. I won't lie to you, Harry. Pandora's a hellhole of a world. Outside of these city walls, we have alien monsters, bandits who will rob, rape, and kill you, and not necessarily in that order, and you have Hyperion's forces, 'civilising' this world. This isn't a place for a hero. At best, the Crimson Raiders are trying to keep people safe from Jack and his underlings. We've done some rather dodgy things, as Angel may know."

Angel shot Roland a look. "It's not trying to kill him on Helios that I object to, Roland. He had already locked me up and tortured. It's nearly taking the other Vault Hunters down with him, and endangering innocents on Helios. Athena, Claptrap, and Timothy didn't deserve your betrayal."

"Timothy?" Roland asked.

"Jack's body double," Angel explained. "Dad may have already been evil, but what you guys did took him to the next level."

"Hey, do you think I enjoyed doing that? And I hoped that the workers would be fine. And while Athena, Claptrap and Timothy may have been inoffensive, what about Wilhelm, Nisha, or Lady Hammerlock?"

"You have a point. Even then they were bad. But _my_ point still stands. I'm staying here because, despite that, you're much better than Jack."

"Well," Harry snarked, looking at them with bloodshot eyes, "from what I've seen so far, he sets the bar pretty low."

The laughter that followed was a little forced, but still somewhat genuine. Harry's snark had helped break the ice a little. He didn't know everything about what was going on…but this situation was so familiar. A small group of rebels, going against a megalomaniac who would wipe out anyone he deemed unworthy? Yeah, he'd been here before…

* * *

 _And you believe her?_

Roland looked at the message from Lilith on the screen. He couldn't risk sending messages over the ECHOnet, so using a different communications system was better. He'd switched encryption since Angel's admission to having tapped the comms of Sanctuary, but hopefully, that would be enough to deter Jack, especially as he was without his pet Siren.

His daughter. His own goddamned daughter. Moxxi had been right to suspect Jack was rotten to the core, even before Jack's madness reached a new level after Elpis.

Eventually, Roland typed out, _I'm taking it with a pinch of salt. But what she says so far checks out, even if I don't like it, and I think she's telling us the whole truth. They've gone to Moxxi's to stay for the night. It's been a long day for both of them, and we can trust Moxxi to keep an eye on them_.

After a moment, Lilith's reply appeared. _Jesus. I mean, I still feel angry for what happened at New Haven, but…Jack's sent out a bounty over the ECHOnet, to the top hunters. The ones he can trust not to do anything stupid, including Wilhelm and Nisha. The bounty's ridiculously high. He wants both of them alive. I'm guessing he wants Angel for the Vault Key, and this Harry Potter to torture for abducting Angel. I don't like this. I'll trust your judgement as far as she is concerned for now, but I want her to look me in the eye and apologise for New Haven and everything else._

 _I'm a little wary of sending her out, especially if Jack's put a price on their heads_ , Roland typed out. _And I'd rather not have you abandon your post, given how well you've been keeping the Bloodshots in check, along with the other bandits. Not to mention risking exposing the fact that you're alive._

 _I'm not a bloody porcelain doll_ , Lilith typed back irritably. _Look, I'll Phasewalk as much as I can to the Fast Travel station, and I'll use that to head to Sanctuary tomorrow morning. At least we know where Jack took the Vault Key, so we can consider having Brick storm Angel's former cage to get it out_.

Roland sighed. He knew how stubborn his ex-flame was. It was part of the reason they had hooked up, and part of the reason they had broken up. He just hoped that she wouldn't put herself in danger doing this. Especially if Angel was telling the truth, and any Siren could potentially be used as a catalyst for the Vault Key…something Handsome Jack wouldn't hesitate to exploit…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Roland and Lilith have been brought up to speed, and the enormity of what has happened to Harry has hit home. These first few chapters are set shortly before the events of** ** _Borderlands 2_** **, by a couple of days. We'll have more Harry/Angel before long…and some Moxxi!**

 **1\. I don't know when Borderlands is set, but after punching in some keywords into TV Tropes, I came up with someone claiming a character to be in the 56** **th** **Century, and as that was as good a time as any to set it, I chose that. I don't know whether that's even remotely canon, but…well, we don't have anything else to base off, AFAIK.**

 **2.** ** _If you want peace, prepare for war_** **in Latin. I thought, given Roland being an ever-ready soldier who only fights when necessary, it was a good motto for him.**


	132. Hermione Bael Chapter 1

**My first foray into the world of _High School DxD_ crossovers was, admittedly, not one of my best. I think of _Fall to Zenith_ as being okay, but not great. I did better with my later crossover with _Final Fantasy IX, Black Mage of Kuoh_. And my attempt at a second crossover, _Sympathy for the Devil_ , faltered pretty badly, partly due to the reviews that had me realising the story's faults.**

 **whitetigerwolf recently posted a challenge, one of many Harry Potter/ _High School DxD_ challenges they have done recently, but this one got my attention more than any other: namely the 'Hogwarts Pieces' challenge, where either Harry or Hermione were Devils, recruiting members of their Peerage at Hogwarts. Having done Harry as a Pureblood Devil for _Fall to Zenith_ , I actually decided on Hermione, and given her brown hair of canon, I decided to make her a Bael, and thus the cousin of Rias Gremory and Sirzechs Lucifer, and as a nod to _Fall to Zenith_ , made her part-Fallen as well. _Hermione Bael_ is the working title of the story, but it may yet change.**

 **I also, after discussion with whitetigerwolf about the challenge, decided to give Harry the Boosted Gear. I originally considered Albion and having Vali killed off (sorry, Vali fans), but it was whitetigerwolf who suggested having Harry having the Boosted Gear and Issei having the Dividing Gear. Having Vali absent from this timeline also makes an interesting knock-on effect for his faction of the Khaos Brigade, as well as for other factions of the DxD-verse. Because of Hermione's mother being a Fallen and close to Raynare, Raynare is never a villain...though she's still snide towards Rias and her Peerage.**

 **As you may note below, quite a bit of this first chapter was copied and pasted from _Sympathy for the Devil_. Hope you enjoy.**

 **Incidentally, I've started a new poll on my profile for fresh franchises for me to do stories based on. While the most voted-for franchise won't necessarily get a story, it will give me an indication of what is more popular. Amongst the new options since the previous poll last year include _Is This a Zombie?_ and _The Saga of Tanya the Evil_.**

* * *

 _ **HERMIONE BAEL**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **BOOKWORM OF THE BAEL AND THE BOY WHO LIVED**

It's odd how fate works out at times. Some events can change things for better, or for worse. How that happens can be a matter of perspective.

Certainly, the death of Vali Lucifer, the half-human scion of the Lucifer line of Devils, as a young child was a tragedy, and the world was poorer for his absence, even if he would grow into a battle-hungry young man in other timelines, the destined wielder of the weapon known as the Dividing Gear, and the Heavenly Dragon sealed within it, Albion. In going too far with their abuse, his father and grandfather had robbed themselves of an opportunity to wield power by proxy, though they never would have succeeded, anyway. Vali died unmourned in a world that should have mourned his passing.

But the death of the boy who would become the latest White Dragon Emperor upset the order, for Albion's rival, Ddraig, the Heavenly Dragon sealed within the Boosted Gear, had yet to be given to a new master, one who would become the next Red Dragon Emperor. These two had a rivalry that spanned centuries, and the Dragon Emperors with opposing powers were destined to clash. Vali's demise also had an impact on the burgeoning organisation known as the Khaos Brigade.

Shortly after Vali's untimely death, Ddraig and Albion were soon given their new chance. But fate, it seemed, had a perverse sense of humour, as it often does. Ddraig was destined to become the Sacred Gear of Issei Hyoudou, an otherwise unremarkable Japanese boy who would grow up to become a pervert of prodigious proportions…well, prodigious in his perversion, anyway. But Vali's death upset things, and it was Albion who would become sealed within Issei.

As for the Boosted Gear, and with it, Ddraig? Well, as noted before, fate has a somewhat perverse sense of humour. Ddraig found himself sealed within a child who, frankly, needed his power, only for said power to be sealed for about fifteen of the first sixteen years of his life.

A power that was about to be unleashed thanks to the foolishness of the child's guardians…

* * *

Harry Potter woke up reluctantly. Not just reluctantly, but with a fog over his most recent memories, along with his mind. He wanted said fog to remain: something told him that amnesia was preferable to recollection. Sadly, memory is a treacherous and fickle bitch, not being there when we need it, and being there when we don't.

Soon, like water filling a glass, memory came back to him. The _joyful_ memories of the past year. The Tri-Wizard Tournament. A good chunk of the school turning its back on him, including his so-called best friend Ron, only to start praising him when he prevailed against a dragon. The graveyard. The death of Cedric. The resurrection of Voldemort. The duel. Crouch Junior disguised as Moody. The Minister not believing him. Then…going back home. He remembered dragging his trunk to the front door of the Dursley home…and then, darkness.

Then, in the depths of oblivion, he seemed to hear a tenebrous voice.

" ** _Harry Potter. RISE._** "

Leading to, it seemed, this. It took him a while to go from cataloguing his recollections to analysing sensations. And as he did so, he came to a number of conclusions, a couple of them rather alarming.

1\. He was in bed. Not an unreasonable state of affairs considering he had just been unconscious. But then, you came to the other points, like…

2\. He was naked. He NEVER slept naked. The Dursleys would have beaten him black and blue (not that they didn't anyway) if he had at 4 Privet Drive, while sharing a dorm room with others also would have put a stop to such activities, even if he wanted to. Which he didn't. Concerning though that was, it was compounded by…

3\. Someone else was sharing his bed with him, someone who was also naked, and, judging by the feeling of two fleshy orbs on his upper back, was of the female persuasion to boot. Said someone had him in a gentle embrace. That was one of the few things preventing him from panicking, if only to avoid waking his captor.

4\. He was in an unfamiliar bedroom. A rather luxurious one at that.

Deciding that he needed to extricate himself from his current situation before anything further could happen (as compromising as the situation was, he was sure he hadn't lost his virginity to his bedmate, unless she had been nasty enough to do it while he slept, or else used a Memory Charm), he slid out of his bedmate's embrace, and stood up, as calmly as he could.

As he looked around, he heard a gentle yawn behind him. Then, he heard a **_very_** familiar voice murmur, "Oh, is it morning already?" A little more clearly, she then said, "Harry…please don't panic. I brought you here after…what happened."

Harry turned to face her. This time, he had a clear view of the girl he had seen in glimpses. Too clear. As he had feared, she didn't have a single stitch on as she sat up, the action doing distracting things to her breasts. Her buxom body was something many a woman would envy having, even if she was about his age. Brown eyes flecked with violet looked at him with concern and amusement, and her hair was beautiful brown waves…framing a very familiar face.

It wasn't quite the same face. It was too beautiful to be the same face, not exactly. And yet, it was so familiar, and Harry was almost certain that it was the same person.

Which meant that he had been sleeping in bed with a naked Hermione Granger, and Hermione had become more beautiful somehow. He'd heard of beauty sleep, but this was ridiculous.

Harry stammered, blushing furiously, and feeling aroused, despite himself. Given that his dorm-mates had smuggled in adult magazines on occasion, he wasn't unware of what a nude girl looked like. But it was still embarrassing, all the same. "Umm, we didn't…you didn't…"

She rolled her eyes. "No, we didn't do anything, beyond sleeping together in the most literal sense. A couple of my cousin's quirks rubbed off on me. But you were badly injured, and I used strong healing magic to heal your body. It requires full body contact to be effective, though. Hence…"

Harry blinked. "And in what book did you find that, Hermione?!" he yelped.

"No book," Hermione said, getting off the bed, and walking over to some clothes on a chair, donning some underwear. "Sorry. Amusing though it is to see you flounder around trying not to look at my body, I know it's making you uncomfortable. I think it's better that we both get dressed before I explain further." She indicated another chair, where some clothes for him were folded up.

Harry did so quickly. Soon, they were both dressed, and Hermione indicated for him to sit down in one of the chairs. After he had sat down, Hermione looked pensive. "I…don't honestly know where to begin. I've…been hiding things from you, Harry. Hiding things for a long time. I've tried to think about the best way to broach the subject with you, and I couldn't."

"Hermione…you're my friend," Harry said, noting her distress. He was a little annoyed at her admission that she had been keeping secrets from him, but her obvious distress at doing so helped him. "I…I trust you."

"I'm not sure you will after what I have to tell you," Hermione said quietly. "Maybe I should start with the basics. I'm not human. I never was." On Harry's blank stare, she gestured towards her body. "I made my body look less desirable rather deliberately. It was part of going undercover at Hogwarts. In truth, I know probably more about magic than even adult wizards and witches, though there are some that I don't know about. That's one of the reasons I accepted the Time Turner back in Third Year."

"If you're not human, then what are you?" Harry asked, dreading the answer.

"A Cambion," Hermione said. "In other words, my father was a Devil. And my mother was a Fallen Angel." Suddenly, two pairs of wings seemed to sprout from her back, both as black as pitch. One was like a pair of bat wings. The other pair was like those of a raven.

Harry stared blankly. Hermione Granger, one of his best friends, was part-Devil. He couldn't even begin to think of a response to that. Well, until he asked, "Are we in Hell?"

"No, no…this is a different place entirely. This is the Underworld. Think of it as another dimension where Devils and the Fallen reside. Besides, many of the more malicious Devils perished in a number of wars. You'd be surprised, but many Devils are very like humans, mentally. One of my cousins, for example, is the current ruler of the Underworld, holding the title of Lucifer. But Sirzechs is a really nice guy. If anything, we're more hedonistic than humans. That's not to say that there aren't Devils like those you hear about: there's far too many of those. But we're as varied as humans in terms of temperament. I am of the Bael clan, and, well, they didn't take too kindly to my father falling in love with a Fallen Angel. My cousin Sairorg was treated dismally because he didn't manifest our trademark power. Though my aunt Venelana was treated better because she managed to marry Zeoticus Gremory. Anyway, long story short, we don't do the whole 'souls in exchange for power' thing. At least not unless they have something really worth it in mind."

"Why are you telling me this?" Harry asked.

"Because I didn't want there to be any more secrets between us. And before you ask, yes, the God of the Bible is real. Angels are real. Centuries ago, there was a devastating series of wars between the forces of Heaven and the Underworld. Even now, the three factions who took part are in a tenuous stalemate, more of a ceasefire than an actual peace. Of course, there are other factions involved: other deities exist, like those of Norse or Greco-Roman or Hindu mythology. Or Shinto. In fact, Japan is of considerable interest to all factions for various reasons. Plus, another of my cousins, Rias Gremory, she's a total Japanophile. Sorry, I'm getting off-topic. The wars between Angels, Fallen or not, and the Devils, left our peoples depleted, and a civil war within the Underworld depleted it further. You see, many of the old guard of the Devils, including the original Lucifer, Leviathan, Beezlebub and Asmodeus families, wanted to continue the war, even if it meant the end of our kind. But other families wanted to just live in peace and avoid the extinction of our people. My cousin Sirzechs was one of those who led the 'New Satan' faction, and they won."

"A civil war? Like that Voldemort caused?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. The Old Satan faction were very much like the Purebloods under Voldemort," Hermione said. "Though even now, there's still similar attitudes amongst the Devils. My being a Cambion isn't viewed that well by many, and it's really only Sirzech's influence that protects my family. That, and the protection of Azazel. He's the leader of the Grigori, the main organisation of the Fallen. He's very like Sirius, Harry. While many Fallen would attack Devils on sight, Azazel is another matter. Plus, my mother has a couple of friends that are like honorary aunts of mine: Raynare and Mittelt. And again, I'm getting off-topic. Okay…well, you want to know what you're doing here, in my house, and why you needed to be healed."

Harry blinked. "I…don't remember what happened. But I think my uncle did something to me."

"He did." Hermione pulled a crinkled, blood-spattered paper out of her jeans pocket, and handed it to Harry. It showed a magic circle, elaborate and complex and arcane, with the words 'Make Your Dreams Come True' below it. "This is a summoning circle, which Devils hand out to humans. We grant them wishes in exchange for, say, items of value, or a small portion of their lifeforce. I prefer the former, obviously. I actually had one of my familiars handing these out in Little Whinging while keeping an eye on the Dursleys. Vernon took one of them. To summon a Devil, you just think hard on your desire while using it. But Vernon also thought to be rid of you. He took you into the basement while you were unconscious, and stabbed you through the heart. The sigil activates when blood is spilled on it to, for reasons I will go into. When I came before him, he was, understandably, surprised. You see, he wanted magic for himself and his family in exchange for your life. He is being dealt with, along with your aunt and cousin. The neighbours think they've gone on holiday."

"Hang on a moment," Harry said, opening his shirt and touching his chest. "You said he stabbed me through the heart. But…I'm alive."

"Yes. And this is probably the part you'll hate me for," Hermione said quietly. She plucked a box from seemingly out of thin air, and opened it, showing a number of chess pieces within, all pawns, and all glowing red. "Evil Pieces," she explained. "The Underworld is obsessed with chess, and to replenish our numbers after the wars, we developed this. We recruit other beings, humans, Fallen, magical beings, and so on, to become part of what is known as a Peerage. When we merge these chess pieces with a being, they become a Devil. They can even resurrect the newly-dead. Too long dead, and they remain dead. So you were lucky that I managed to save you in time."

"Are you saying…?" Harry began, a chill running down his spine.

Hermione nodded solemnly. "Yes. You're a Devil now, Harry. You're now the Queen of my Peerage…"

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Well, there's a turn-up for the books. Hermione is a Cambion. And yes, I know that's technically a part-human, part-Devil. But I wanted to use Nephilim for half-Fallen, half-humans, despite it being used for half-Angel, half-Devils in** ** _DMC: Devil May Cry_** **.**

 **Followers of my previous work will note a lot that was copied and pasted from** ** _Sympathy for the Devil_** **. Hey, recycle what you can, right?**

 **Incidentally, this takes place in Year 5, but with the ages of the characters from the Potterverse shifted up a year, so students are 12 when they start at Hogwarts. It's also ten years ahead of canon, so instead of 1995, this story takes place in 2005.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	133. Hermione Bael Chapter 2

**I'm gratified at the mostly positive response to this story, and I personally feel it to be a superior work by far to _Fall to Zenith_ , a better fusion of the Potterverse and the world of _Highschool DxD_. It may be some time before it is posted as a full story, though, but I have finished the first four chapters. I just want to finish a few more so I can be sure this story has legs.**

 **On another note, I've updated my poll with more choices,. Oh, and incidentally, thanks to some inspiration from a challenge by Dis Lexic, I am strongly considering making my next story posted in _The Cauldron_ a crossover with _Is This a Zombie?_ Not a strong one: the only character from _Is This a Zombie?_ will be Eucliwood Hellscythe (though a Potterverse character WILL be a Magical Garment/Magikewl Girl), but I think it would work.**

* * *

 _ **HERMIONE BAEL**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **DDRAIG**

Hermione walked through the corridors of her family's home, weeping quietly. While not as huge as the main estate of the Bael family, let alone the residence of the Gremorys or Sirzech's manse, it was still very much a luxurious mansion by human standards. Still, she wasn't sure she could put enough distance between herself and her new Queen.

There had been an argument, of course. Hermione would have been surprised if there hadn't been. She had been expecting this the moment she was brought to the Dursleys' home and found Harry with a knife through his heart. But it still hurt all the same.

She understood his issues. He hadn't taken umbrage with her being a Cambion. No, it was being basically turned into a Devil against his will, and basically being her servant, after she had explained the whole servitude thing. Never mind that she would never treat him like the Dursleys did. Hell, as far as she was concerned, she took after her cousins in that regard, treating her Peerage like her friends, and extended family. But he wouldn't listen.

She just left the room, leaving Harry to his own devices, hoping that a bit of time would allow tempers to cool. In a way, though, it felt like running away from her problems. And yet, didn't the Sorting Hat put her into Gryffindor? The House of the brave and valorous?

"Hey, Hermione? What's the matter, _nyah?_ "

Hermione blinked away the tears to find that she nearly walked into one of her Bishops. The dark-haired young woman was tall, elegant, and voluptuous, her kimono seemingly perpetually on the verge of a wardrobe malfunction, showcasing her impressive breasts to the world. Her golden eyes, usually glittering with mischief and lust, looked at her King in concern. A pair of cat tails waved lazily from her rear, and a pair of cat ears twitched upon her head.

Kuroka was one of the first members of Hermione's Peerage. She was a type of magical being (particularly the Japanese variety known as Youkai) called a Nekomata, specifically a subtype of Nekomata called a Nekoshou. Hermione and her parents had stumbled across Kuroka when she was on the run for killing her original master. Oddly enough, Kuroka had been persuaded by the Baels to tell her side of the story: her master had experimented on her, trying to harness the _senjutsu_ powers Nekoshou could harness. Because said master had threatened to do the same to her little sister, Shirone, Kuroka murdered her master.

While Sirzechs listened to Kuroka's story and believed it, the court of public opinion was against her. Kuroka joined Hermione's Peerage as her Bishop, which was probably the only thing that saved her life. The same went for Shirone, who joined the Peerage of Rias Gremory as a Rook, albeit under the name of 'Koneko Toujou'. The two sisters did reconcile some time ago, but even now, Shirone was somewhat reserved and stoic, and reluctant to embrace her _senjutsu_ abilities.

Hermione viewed the flirty Nekoshou as a big sister. Embarrassing and overly flirtatious, true, but Kuroka also knew when to be serious and supportive. Then again, Hermione wasn't lacking in female role models in her life. They ranged from the relatively normal, like her mother, her aunt Venelana, and her cousin Rias and her friend Sona Sitri, to the stranger, like her aunts Raynare and Mittelt, Rias' Queen Akeno (who hid a massive sadomasochistic streak beneath her usually demure demeanour), and Sona's sister, Serafall Leviathan.

Hermione eventually said, "It's Harry. He…reacted badly to being told he was turned into a Devil for my Peerage, even if it was to save his life."

"Oh." The catwoman chewed her lip pensively. "Well, it was going to be a shock to the system, _nyah?_ You probably did your little whirlwind info-dump on him, even when breaking it to him gently. Or maybe you danced around the issue a bit too much. I know Luna wanted you to get to the point quicker, _nyah_. Did you tell him about the Sacred Gear I sensed within him?"

"How could I?!" she snapped, with more force than she meant. Subsiding a little, she said, "Kuroka, I had to admit to my best friend that I had been lying to him for the past…four years now. That he's basically bound to my service until he earns his freedom. Given how much I made a fuss about SPEW last year, he told me I was a hypocrite."

"Give him time," Kuroka said softly. "Then you can explain everything. D'you want me to go and see him, _nyah?_ "

"No, I don't think it'll help. Gasper wouldn't want to be anywhere near Harry if Harry's in a mood," Hermione said. "And I'm not sure I want the others to be there until he calms down a little. Kuroka, what do you think about the Sacred Gear you sensed?"

"Well, it was definitely draconic, and given the sheer amount of power I felt when I undid the seal, it's certainly upper-tier stuff. Maybe even a Longinus, _nyah_. Maybe you lucked out and got either Ddraig or Albion," Kuroka said.

"The fact that there was a seal on it in the first place disturbs me," Hermione mused, trying to distract herself from the argument she had with Harry with a bit of problem solving. "You said it felt old, like it's been there since his infancy."

"Of course. The question is, who put it there?" Kuroka asked. "And why?"

"There's a few possibilities, none of which are appealing," Hermione said. "I'm going to talk to Uncle Azazel about this later, see if he knows who knows how to seal a Sacred Gear, especially a draconic one."

"Maybe…but you're still going to have to go back and talk to Harry, _nyah_. The longer you leave it, the worse it's going to be."

"I know but…I've forced a change on him, without his permission. Okay, he was dead, so he couldn't give it, but even so…it's like this nonsense about being the Boy Who Lived, or being entered into the Tri-Wizard Tournament, or being sent back to the Dursleys after all they did to him…he gets dumped on from a great height, Kuroka, and I've only added to that…"

* * *

Harry knew, intellectually at least, that he should apologise. But he was still so angry at Hermione. He wasn't human anymore, he was a Devil, and her fucking _servant_. Never mind that she had saved his life, she had kept secrets from him, just like Dumbledore. And now…and now…

He brooded silently, tears running down his scowling face, not really noticing the voice at first. But then, over time, as it became more insistent, he realised he could hear it. A deep, tenebrous voice.

… ** _Partner. Partner! Yes, I am talking to you!_**

 _Oh great_ , Harry thought to himself. _I've got voices in my head. So, I've become a Devil, and I'm now schizophrenic._

 _…_ _ **I'm not going to dignify that with a response**_ , the voice said. **_If I had a penny for every time one of my hosts thought I was a sign of madness, I'd have enough for a decent hoard. Then again, I'm as surprised as you are that I can talk to you now. My hosts usually manifest the Boosted Gear and get powerful long before they actually can communicate with me_**.

"Uhh, what?" Harry asked out loud, rather stupidly.

 ** _Hmph. The Bael girl probably would have explained it if you hadn't had your argument. Not that I can blame you for being upset, even if your ire is misplaced_** , the voice said. **_She never got around to explaining the concept of a Sacred Gear to you, did she?_**

"No. She was just telling me that I was going to be her indentured servant. And I'm having a conversation with a voice in my head."

 ** _It'd say a lot about your state of mind if I was just a figment of your imagination_** , the voice said, a vague sense of amusement coming through. **_Well, allow me to explain if the Bael girl isn't here to. Sacred Gears are artifacts created by God, and granted to humans or part-humans. Many became figures of note in history. Others worked quietly behind the scenes. Some allow for extra strength. Others can heal or defend. Of those Sacred Gears, a number had Dragons sealed into them. Not the creatures you have encountered before, but beings of immense power_**.

"And let me guess, you're one of them?" Harry asked sarcastically.

 ** _Good, so my host is quick on the uptake_** , the voice said with an equally sarcastic lilt. **_And with a sharp tongue. If you want further proof, I can direct you to manifest my Sacred Gear form on your body. It is not unlike the means of summoning a Patronus charm, but instead of focusing on a happy memory, you must focus on a sense of power, summoning as much power as you can to your arm_**.

"Okay, creepy possibly schizophrenic voice, but if my arm gets taken over and tries to kill someone, I am going to find a chainsaw or an axe," Harry said.

 ** _My name is…_**

"Quiet, you," Harry snarked, before he decided, with an attitude of 'what the hell', to do what the voice said. After a moment, a crimson gauntlet with a green gem embedded in it former over his arm. He stared at it a moment, and then moved it. Well, it moved normally, with no signs that it was going to try and kill him or force him to kill others. "Huh."

 ** _Ahem. Allow me to introduce myself_**. Suddenly, Harry's vision seemed to be clouded by fire, and he was sitting on a vast, dark plain. Facing him on this plain was a massive, but magnificent-looking red dragon, its baleful eyes nonetheless peering down at him with intelligence.

 ** _I am Y Ddraig Goch, the Welsh Red Dragon, one of the two Heavenly Dragons!_** the dragon…no, _Dragon_ announced. **_My spirit and essence resides within the Sacred Gear you bear, the Boosted Gear, after the forces of God and Satan tore me and my rival to shreds and sealed me away. Which means, Harry Potter, that you are now my new host, the Red Dragon Emperor!_**

After a moment, Harry muttered, "Great. I've got a Dragon sealed within me, and he's got a flair for the dramatic."

The Dragon chuckled, as the vision dissolved, and he was back in the room. **_Many Dragons have a flair for the dramatic. If you wish to address me, do so as Ddraig_**. Harry noticed that the green gem on the gauntlet pulsed with each syllable of Ddraig's speech, like the lights on a Dalek.

"Okay, Ddraig. So…you're the power behind this Sacred Gear. What's the catch?"

 ** _Hmph. Cautious, aren't you? Then again, given your life, I can't blame you. I was an impotent voyeur during that time. The Boosted Gear allows you to double your power every ten seconds. For example, after, say, three Boosts, your power will have increased eightfold. However, it can only do so up to the limit your body can sustain. Given physical training, you can increase this limit. I don't know what that limit is yet, as I would have to start Boosting to find out, but given that you're now a Queen, with your physical strength, endurance, speed and magical power brought to its full potential, I think it will be higher than many starting off. Of course, there are some elements of the Boosted Gear's power you would do well to avoid, like the Juggernaut Drive, but you won't need to worry about that for now. There is no other catch. As long as we have a cordial relationship, you may access my power whenever you need it_**.

"That sounds like a 'too good to be true' thing," Harry said.

 ** _Your caution is commendable, but the Boosted Gear is yours to command_** , Ddraig said. **_In any case, we have other things to speak of. Namely the Bael girl_**.

"I don't think we have anything to discuss, especially to someone I only just met," Harry said archly.

 ** _I disagree vehemently. I have been a passenger in your head for a while, unable to do more than observe. And unlike that soul fragment of Voldemort, I had a right to be there_**.

"Wait, what?!"

 ** _We'll discuss that at a later time. The soul fragment was destroyed when you were turned into a Devil, for which you should be grateful to Hermione for. Which brings me neatly to my point. I am ancient, Harry Potter. I have been sealed within the Boosted Gear for centuries, seen through the eyes and listened through the ears of many hosts. And a number of said hosts have been brought into the Peerages of Devils. Sometimes, the Devils didn't know about my presence until afterwards. Other times, they brought my hosts into their Peerages because they were aware of my presence. I'd like to think that I am a fairly good reader of people, if only by dint of experience. And I know that Hermione did not make you part of her Peerage out of malevolent intentions towards you. She did so because she is your friend. And before you start going on a teenaged temper tantrum, be quiet and listen to me_**.

Harry, who had been about to argue with Ddraig (and NOT have a teenaged temper tantrum, no siree!), reluctantly obeyed.

 ** _Good. Devils create Peerages for various reasons. Officially, they are servants, but in reality, they can run the gamut of roles. Some create them to have a coterie of slaves or even a harem. I don't object to the latter myself, as long as it's consensual, but not all Devils feel that way. Others do it as a form of small private army, and indeed, all Peerages are expected to fight on their King's behalf. And others create a Peerage as a group of friends and even extended family. I know that the Gremorys, Hermione's relations, certainly fall into that category. What's more, your servitude, as Hermione pointed out to deaf ears, only lasts for as long as you stay in lower ranks. You can earn your way to higher ranks of Devilhood. And being a Devil does not automatically make you evil, if that's what concerns you. True, there are many even now who fit the Biblical perception, but many are like humans. Hermione did this to you primarily to save your life. She CARES about you_**.

"If she cared, she wouldn't have kept the secret from me," Harry said sullenly.

 ** _Harry, you don't realise that wizards have the ability to read minds, to simplify it_** , Ddraig said. **_This is called Legilimency. Teaching you Occlumency, a means of protecting your mind, may have aroused suspicion from the wrong corners. Had a Legilimens picked up on her nature, they may have tried to attack her, or else call in the Exorcists of the Church. Exorcists are capable of not merely killing a Devil, but erasing them entirely from existence. Plus…she was frightened. Frightened of something like this happening. I'm not saying she should have kept secrets from you, but I can understand it_**.

"Great, I'm taking relationship advice from a Dragon stuck in a gauntlet," Harry snarked wearily.

 ** _Then listen. There'll be no more secrets between you, not now. Be her Queen, for both your sakes, not because you're her servant. But because you are friends. She saved your life not to exploit you, but because you are friends. You killed the Basilisk that petrified her, you saved Sirius Black together, she helped you last year training when nobody else would. Your friendship was NOT A LIE! Ronald Weasley may be your first friend, but Hermione is your best! Now, go out there and apologise_**.

Harry rolled his eyes, but he decided the Dragon had a point. Plus…he hadn't wanted to make Hermione cry. He'd just been so angry, understandably so, and…he hadn't been thinking clearly.

Those were his thoughts as he left the room, the Boosted Gear going back wherever it came from, and looked up and down the corridor. He found a woman dressed in a maid's outfit walking elsewhere. "Umm, excuse me, miss?" he asked.

She turned around to look at him. Silver hair framed inhumanly beautiful, if somewhat impassive features. Her silver eyes, the colour of her hair, glittered with curiosity, the sole animation in her face. "Yes?"

"Umm, I was wondering if you knew where Hermione was? I need to apologise."

The woman pursed her lips in thought. "As it happens, I was sent to speak to her by my King. Please, come with me."

Harry hurried after her. "Sorry, do you work here?"

"No. My King is one of Hermione's relatives. However, we are frequent visitors here," the woman said. "My name is Grayfia Lucifuge. I presume you are Harry Potter. I have to admit, I'm surprised it took so long for Hermione to bring you into her Peerage. She speaks highly of you."

"Probably wouldn't now," Harry muttered morosely. "We had an argument. A bad one."

"And? My King and I were on opposing sides during the last war. I eventually defected, long before he made me his Queen. Hermione is certainly a forgiving soul, more than others would be in her state. Our people do not look kindly upon miscegenation, especially between Devils and the Fallen." They finally came to a room, and Grayfia rapped on the door.

"Yes?" came the strained voice of Hermione.

"Hermione, it's me, Grayfia," Grayfia said, her voice and expression softening. "I've come to discuss your Queen. And he's come to apologise."

"Why am I a Queen?" Harry muttered quietly. "I'm a guy." Ddraig snickered in his head.

The door opened, and Hermione stuck her head out, and looked at Harry, her face streaked with tears, her eyes bloodshot. Then, simultaneously, the two of them said, " _I'm sorry._ "

Hermione and Harry, after realising they had apologised simultaneously, devolved into nervous chuckles. It wasn't a great start to repairing their relationship, but it was a start all the same. And the real start of a venture into a new and different world…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Hermione and Kuroka have done some speculation, and Harry has learned of his partner. I wrote this brief frisson between Harry and Hermione in because Harry accepted his predicament a little too easily in** ** _Sympathy for the Devil_** **, as many reviewers of that work pointed out.**

 **Also, Ddraig speaking to Harry so soon is due to the seal placed on the Boosted Gear. Ddraig has been awake since, ooh, maybe Harry's first year at Hogwarts? But he couldn't speak to Harry due to the seal.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	134. Hadrian Kotomine Chapter 1 (Original)

**Now, I'm posting this simultaneously in _The Cauldron_ and _Zelretch's Collection of Alternates_. Having started watching both the original Studio Deen adaptation of _Fate/Stay Night_ and the Ufotable adaptation of _Unlimited Blade Works_ , I feel confident enough to return to it. Now, I made an attempt at a Harry/Sakura story fairly recently, with Shirou and Sakura as reincarnations of Harry and Ginny respectively, but I decided to ditch that story (though I may yet do a Harry-reincarnated-as-Shirou story closer to its inspiration, sakurademonalchemist's abortive story Rebirth of Phoenix, with her permission of course) in favour of another one.**

 **I considered having Harry end up in the Nasuverse after the TWT or going on what I recently coined in correspondence with Gabriel Herrol as a '** **Veil-assisted transdimensional pratfall', but I eventually decided on a similar route to my _RWBY_ crossover _Under the Light of the Shattered Moon_ , so Harry ends up in the Nasuverse long before the Harry Potter books take place, and, shortly before _Fate/Stay Night_ takes place, ends up being kidnapped by the Goblet of Fire, and makes it back to the Nasuverse mere weeks before the Fifth Holy Grail War takes place. But how to do things? Thanks to Arawn D Draven, we already have a couple of stories where Harry is adopted by...*shudder*...the Matous. There's one or two where he's adopted by Kiritsugu or even Medea...but none, to my knowledge, where he was adopted by Kirei Kotomine.  
**

 **This idea actually came from two fics by Satire Swift, one a pure _Fate/Stay Night_ fic, the other a _Sekirei_ crossover in the vein of gabriel blessing's famous _In Flight_. These two fics, _Birth by Fire_ and _A Soul of Fire_ , had Shirou adopted by Kirei, and becoming a somewhat unconventional Executor...and he summons a VERY different Saber...namely the Nero one from _Fate/Extra_ or _Fate/Extella_ , depending. I have told Satire Swift about my intentions, and they're fine with it. In any case, Hadrian Kotomine is somewhat different to the Shirou Kotomine of Satire Swift's fics.**

 **EDIT (MAY 13, 2018): I have begun posting a revised version of _Hadrian Kotomine_ in _The Cauldron_.**

* * *

 _ **HADRIAN KOTOMINE (ORIGINAL)  
**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **SCARS WITHIN AND WITHOUT**

It had been something of a minor scandal within Fuyuki. The ward of a local Christian priest and the adopted granddaughter of an old family with obscure Russian roots had disappeared. While the official story was that they had disappeared, possibly kidnapped, tongues had wagged, especially considering how close they had been. Many believed that an elopement of sorts had occurred. It had been at a scandalously young age too: they were fifteen, coming on sixteen. And you heard the rumours about the Matou family.

But then, the pair came back. The story they gave was that they were kidnapped by a group of obsessed cultists, and that they had taken this long to escape. Given the bizarre activities that happened in and around Fuyuki, a group of crazed cultists, sadly, was not wholly out of the question, especially in light of the serial killer and terrorist attacks that plagued the city nearly a decade ago.

However, the true story was very different. Ridiculous, unbelievable, but true. Though only a few would learn of that truth. And those few would be drawn into another battle beyond their imagining…

* * *

"…And that's when Zelretch finally deigned to get off his arse and take us home," the dark-haired European teenager said. Burn scars ran down one side of his face, not enough to disfigure it to a massive degree, but enough to mar and mark it. Another, lightning bolt-like scar snaked its way from under his fringe. Emerald eyes glinted sardonically from behind glasses.

His audience was of one, a red-haired teenager with hazel eyes staring out incredulously from Japanese features. Oh, there was another present, a girl of the same age as the European teen (about 16), buxom for her age, with dark purple hair and blue eyes, her features gentle and beautiful but lugubrious, but she wasn't part of the audience. She was one of the storytellers. "Zelretch took you home?" he asked.

"Eventually. I think he was too busy coughing up half a lung from laughing so hard to get us home sooner," the dark-haired boy said with a shrug. "Damned troll vampire. Lord El-Melloi II had to hold me back from sodomising Zelretch with a Black Key while he was talking to Sakura."

"Wow, that's…that's unbelievable. And considering what you guys and Rin have told me about…it's less believable than this stuff you said about the Grail War. Still, I'm glad you two are safe, all the same," the redhead said.

"We're home now, Shirou," the girl said with a smile. "And I'm glad our friends were concerned about us. Rin was…very vocal about her displeasure of our disappearance. She was even more displeased when she realised my relationship with Hadrian is stronger. Did you manage to make progress with your friendship with her?"

"Not much, Sakura. The Holy Grail War's all she's talking about lately," Shirou said, rubbing his head ruefully. "Oh, she's nicer now, once she got over the shock of you two disappearing. But she's still hung up on the fact that Structural Analysis, Reinforcement, and Projection is all I can really do as far as magecraft is concerned."

"Yeah, she's always been hypercritical, especially of herself, though don't let her know. Only trained personnel can risk setting off the Tsundere Missile at close quarters," Hadrian smirked. Sakura tittered, and Shirou smiled. As much as they were friends with Rin Tohsaka (and in Sakura's case, they were sisters, though their bond had been partly severed by their father adopting Sakura out), Rin also had something of a mercurial and haughty demeanour that made her prime teasing material. "But Rin's right. The Grail War is starting fifty years too early." He looked at a red, tattoo-like marking on his hand ruefully. Sakura had one too. "It'll probably be a few weeks before it starts in earnest, but even so, it seems like what your dad did at the end of the last one did something. Sakura and I are definitely participating together, and Rin's doing so too. Just watch out for something similar, Shirou, just in case. Given that the Grail managed to recruit a serial killer as a Master last time, not to mention my guardian, it's probably got a perverse sense of humour."

Shirou sighed at Hadrian's assessment of his guardian. Admittedly, Kirei Kotomine had raised Hadrian, once Harry Potter, rather well. But Kirei had a stoic, cold demeanour that hid a sadistic streak, and while he never actually abused Hadrian, Hadrian was also under few illusions as to his guardian. If anything, he suspected worse.

Hadrian would be the first to admit that, like his guardian (despite assuming the man's surname, he'd never call Kirei father), he had become something of a twisted soul. Hadrian had even gained some small notoriety as the Heretic Executioner, the Church's answer to the Magus Killer. Ironically, Hadrian was little like the Magus Killer, at least as far as collateral damage was concerned. But he shared Kiritsugu Emiya's more mercenary inclinations, as well as a disdain towards orthodoxy: despite often being retained by the Church to deal with rogue Magi and Dead Apostles (vampires to the average person), he publicly claimed he was an agnostic, even a misotheist. He had even been hired by Clock Tower on occasion: one of his last missions before those damned wizards on the world he left behind was to retrieve artifacts that could be used as catalysts for the next Holy Grail War, as there were already indications it might be starting early.

His lack of any formal affiliation with the Church, in spite of being the ward of Kirei Kotomine, meant that he could potentially be a Master without any trouble. Clock Tower and the Church hadn't managed to close that little loophole yet after Kirei himself participated as the Master of Assassin, which was odd. Then again, Tokiomi Tohsaka was colluding with the Church, and Zelretch seemed to think it entertaining.

"You two are the talk of the school, though," Shirou said. "People still think you two eloped, got married in Las Vegas or something. And I know you two are closer. Rin calls me clueless, but I can tell."

Sakura blushed slightly. Hadrian knew that Shirou didn't need to know quite how close they got. Not that they needed to get that close, despite her circumstances. His magic, a different kind to that Magi normally had, had a calming effect on the Crest Worms that Sakura had implanted by that monster of a grandfather of hers, something that normally required sexual activity to enact (something Zouken and Shinji Matou exploited until Hadrian's magic changed matters). But, well, after he pulled Sakura out of a damned near-frozen lake and emotions were running high…

Shirou accepted their relationship. Sakura was a good friend, and Hadrian, for all his frequent snarkiness and snideness, was a good friend too. But Hadrian and Sakura knew that he was also somewhat protective when it came to Sakura. So he didn't need to know for now.

"Well, can we stay here for the night?" Hadrian asked. "I've had enough of dealing with Kirei's questions for a while, and Rin doesn't feel like having a sleepover. And Sakura…well, Shinji damn near dislocated her shoulder when we were at the school. He has this notion that she's his."

Shirou nodded. "Of course," he said. He had once been friends with Shinji…until he learned what the boy had done to his own adoptive sister. But he was always there to help Sakura and Hadrian.

"Thanks," Hadrian said.

* * *

He couldn't sleep that night. Hadrian Kotomine stared at the ceiling, Sakura in another room, while lying on a futon. He'd just escaped one deathtrap of a magical tournament, only to be roped into one that was even more lethal.

Hadrian Kotomine wasn't born in this world. On another world, he was born Harry Potter, to James Potter and Lily Evans. They were murdered by a wizarding terrorist, and Harry was sent to live with magic-hating relatives who took every opportunity to abuse him. Nowhere near as bad as poor Sakura had it, but still…it spoke volumes when Kirei Kotomine, a hollow man who had a hidden sadistic streak, was a better guardian than they were. While he showed no actual love towards Harry, he could show pride when Harry achieved things.

Hadrian thought back to when he came to this world. He had been locked in his cupboard, and had wanted to get out. And he was out, but in the middle of a raging inferno. He wandered, alone, burns along his body, until he stumbled across a pair of men. A dark-haired priest, and a naked blonde man with crimson eyes. Ironically, these two turned out to be his saviours, the blonde, calling himself Gilgamesh (when he wasn't declaring himself to be the King of Heroes), noting his magic…of a vastly different kind to this world.

It was ironic, really. Kirei Kotomine and Gilgamesh saved him, while Kirei's enemy, Kiritsugu Emiya, the Magus Killer, had saved Shirou's life. Unlike Shirou, Hadrian didn't lose his memories. But the dark fires of the aftermath of the Fourth Holy Grail War has scoured Shirou clean, a fiery palimpsest.

Hadrian had met Kiritsugu a few times before the infamous assassin passed away. Hadrian had become friends with Shirou, but had aroused suspicion from the Magus Killer. Not without reason: Kiritsugu and Kirei were on opposing sides of the Grail War, though their enmity was particularly strong. However, Kiritsugu soon became satisfied that Hadrian, while every bit as acid-tongued and ruthless as his guardian, was genuine in his desire for friendship.

Hadrian never got to know the man that well, at least personally, but if one thing defined the ex-Magus Killer, it was that he was filled with regrets. Hadrian found himself envying Shirou, for the infamous mercenary and assassin seemed like a better father than Kirei ever acted like. Hell, during his Executor training, Hadrian ended up meeting Kirei's biological daughter, Caren Hortensia. That had been…interesting, to say the least.

He'd started training not long after the Magus Killer died, at eleven years of age. By thirteen, he was, albeit unofficially, an active Executor, though he tended to stay around Fuyuki most of the time, having most of his more mundane schooling here. By fifteen, he had some infamy for his unorthodox nature and his iconoclastic attitude (he was known to have a friendship of sorts with Arcueid Brunested, a True Ancestor or ultra-powerful vampire descended from the original vampire, Crimson Moon Brunested, and infamously known as the White Princess of the True Ancestors), and it was at this age he was abducted by that damned Goblet of Fire, while he was sitting on a park bench with Sakura.

And now, here he was, about to be a Master in the Fifth Holy Grail War. He lifted his hand, and looked at the murky Command Seals, the stigmata noting him as being chosen by the Grail. Kiritsugu had been tight-lipped about why he had his Saber Servant destroy the Grail that had manifested the one time Hadrian had asked: he didn't trust the ward of Kirei Kotomine enough, and Kirei, when asked about the subject, merely called Kiritsugu a coward.

The Holy Grail War…a conflict instituted just under two centuries ago by three powerful Magus families: the von Einzberns of Germany, the Makiris of Russia (before moving to Japan and becoming the Matous), and the Tohsakas of Japan. The Grail itself was not the drinking vessel of Jesus, but rather, a specially-engineered magical device that, when primed with enough mana, could work miracles. One of them was a limited form of the Third True Magic the von Einzberns desired to regain, the Heaven's Feel, allowing for Heroic Spirits, the souls of long-dead heroes from myth and history, to be revived as familiars known as Servants.

Each of the seven Servants would be summoned as a particular class. Sabers were swordfighters, masters of melee combat. Lancers were alacritous spearmen. Archers were those who used ranged weaponry from bows to guns, and even more exotic weapons. Riders were known for their mounts and vehicles. Berserkers traded sanity for raw strength and tenacity. Assassins were masters of stealth, killing swiftly and silently from the shadows. And Casters were masters of magic and changing reality around them, physically weak, but formidable within their own territories.

Once six of the seven Servants were slain, the Grail could be used as a means to fulfil any wish it could grant to the remaining Servant and their Magus Master. However, Kirei had stated that, in order to be used to its fullest potential, all seven Servants needed to die. Only then would it become a gateway to Akasha, the Root of All Things. The ultimate noosphere, containing knowledge from the past, present, and even the future.

Hadrian wondered why the Grail chose him. The only wishes he had were those he could achieve himself: to be with Sakura, and to help his friends. If he had another wish, one that would draw him into this conflict, it would be, why did Kiritsugu destroy the Grail? What possessed him to cause that calamity all those years ago by destroying the Grail? And why was his guardian so damned coy about things?

Even before he got abducted, he hadn't been living at the church where Kirei Kotomine resided for some time, using the monies he got from being an Executor to buy a house nearby. Even before then, he sometimes slept over at Rin's place. While the two annoyed each other, they also viewed each other as siblings…which would make Rin's reaction to his relationship with Sakura interesting. At least he'd managed to get the two sisters to patch up their relationship enough that they'd acknowledge each other as sisters in private: Rin had inherited a little too much of her father's detachment from normal human affection, and Sakura had been ordered by Zouken Matou to act as if she was never a Tohsaka.

No. There was one wish he could use. It was to purge those damned worms from Sakura's body, or at least change them into magic circuits completely. His magic kept them subdued, but it was a temporary fix, not a full one. Sakura felt repulsed at them being within her body, at what they had done to her from a very young age. To males, Crest Worms were bad enough, eating into bone marrow and nerves, but to females, they pretty much raped them. And Sakura had also been psychologically abused by Zouken, and sexually abused by her own adoptive brother.

Well, Hadrian intended for that shit to stop. Sakura was his friend. He'd only (barely) tolerated dealing with the Matous because if he wiped them out, Clock Tower would come down on his head for interfering with Magus affairs unduly (never mind the fact that Zouken made most of the more immoral Magi look like kittens). Though maybe he could get away with some collateral damage during the Grail War.

Then again, he had an issue with Shinji nearly dislocating Sakura's arm for, in his eyes, defying him. And he was going to deal with said issue before very long. Thanks to his time on that other world, he had just the right tools. He had told Sakura what he was planning. Now, people thought that Sakura was a demure, goody-two shoes, but in truth, she had a hidden darker side to her, born from years of abuse, physical, mental, and sexual. And she gave considerable approval to that plan.

Of course, if he gained the right Servant, he also had another avenue to try…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Hadrian Kotomine…aka Harry Potter raised by Kirei. Kickarse Executor and maverick…and Sakura's boyfriend. And soon to be Master of the Fifth Holy Grail War.**

 **Keep in mind, time runs a little differently in the Nasuverse compared to the Potterverse, at least for this fic. So Harry is 16 (as is Sakura), but he should have been 14 (well, nearly 15 after going through the TWT).**

 **His relationship with Kirei is…distant but cordial. Hell, Hadrian gets along better with Gilgamesh (and he thinks Gilgamesh is an arrogant fuck with a stick up his arse, while Gilgamesh thinks him an uncouth mongrel, though he thinks Hadrian amusing enough to be a court jester). But it's probably true that Kirei, if he didn't indulge his sadism, would make a better parents than the Dursleys. Sad, but true.**

 **This will involve some bashing, BTW. Hermione, Luna, Remus and Sirius will definitely be Harry's allies, but Dumbledore and Snape will not. They'll make appearances later…**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	135. Hadrian Kotomine Chapter 2 (Original)

**I'm gratified at the response this story garnered. So, here's the second one. This, hopefully, will be the beginning of a spate of more _Fate/Stay Night_ fics from me (as opposed to the _Fate/Zero_ ones I've done), and maybe a revival of _Perils of Magical Investigative Journalism_. Most of them will be Potterverse crossovers, but there may be other ones, depending.**

 **Incidentally, Sakura, as this chapter shows, will be the Master of Medea as Caster, while Hadrian will be the Master of Medusa as Rider. However, the main pairing will remain Hadrian/Sakura. Medea will get a certain dogfather, and Medusa will get a certain werewolf...**

* * *

 _ **HADRIAN KOTOMINE (ORIGINAL)  
**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **THE WIZARD, THE WITCH, AND THE MAGUS**

The first moment that they got tangled up with the latest Grail War, though, came not on purpose but by chance. Hadrian and Sakura had been going on a bit of a date, a lovely walk through the woods along Mount Ryuudou. There was something calm and peaceful about these woods, not like the park that had been established after the Fuyuki Fire, the conflagration that marked the end of the previous Holy Grail War. That park had a sickly, even malevolent sense to it, and few lingered within its bounds. But even in the rain, which Hadrian used an umbrella to keep from Sakura's head and his own, this forested area had a beauty all of its own.

It was the day after they explained their story to Shirou. To Taiga Fujimura, they stuck to their story, only with an added and somewhat inaccurate embellishment: they had been abducted by enemies of his guardian. And while Taiga was unaware of magic or magecraft, she was aware that Kiritsugu and Kirei had been involved in shady dealings. She couldn't be said to be unaware of such things: her grandfather was a Yakuza boss, after all, even if he was a more principled one. Hadrian actually liked old Raiga, and he enjoyed trolling Taiga. Indeed, he was probably the only person capable of getting away with calling her 'Tiger', though this was probably because he could kick her arse without magic…as long as he avoided her infamous _shinai_ or kendo practise sword.

Hadrian, when it came to physical combat, used a combination of his own guardian's variation on Bajiquan, as well as a style he had come across by chance. He found out, rather accidentally, that one of the teachers at their school, Souichirou Kuzuki, was a former assassin with an interesting style, dubbed 'Snake' style. Kuzuki, while not aware of magic before he met Hadrian, was nonetheless aware of secretive worlds beneath the surface, and Hadrian had managed to persuade the man to teach some elements of the style when he revealed what entities he had to fight. Although stoic, even empty inside in a way that made Kirei look like he was overflowing by comparison, Hadrian felt that Kuzuki had some satisfaction in knowing his techniques could be used for more than assassination, or at least for something greater than the assassin group he once belonged to.

Hadrian could not even be said to be a master of 'Snake'. If anything, he was an amateur, partly because Kuzuki was ridiculously disciplined, more so than Hadrian or Kirei. But knowing some of the 'Snake' style gave him more of a repertoire. He had surprised more than a few belligerent idiots during his time in the Tri-Wizard Tournament with his techniques.

Kuzuki, oddly enough, resided at Ryuudou Temple. Admittedly, so too did one of their fellow students, Issei Ryuudou, though he was the son of the head monk. Hadrian trusted Kuzuki: the man was simple. Not stupid, but his mindset was simple. He had been raised as a tool, a living weapon, and even retired, he still maintained this mindset, even if he was a teacher first, and an assassin second. If someone asked him to stay quiet about something, he would unless there was a reason not to. Magic surprised him, true, but Kuzuki didn't remain that way.

Hadrian bit back a chuckle at the thought of Kuzuki encountering those idiots back in his birth dimension. Sakura noticed, though. "Harry?" she asked. She was the only person who could call him that and he wouldn't correct her. As much as Shirou and Rin were his friends, Sakura was even more so. He got angry with those morons in the other world who kept calling him 'Harry'. At least the Hermione girl and that weird girl Luna got a clue, as did the werewolf and that lech who claimed to be his godfather. That redhead, while not a bad guy, was a bit clueless, unlike his twin brothers.

"Harry?" she asked again. "Why were you smiling like that?"

"Oh, I was just thinking of what would happen if those idiots in that other world encountered Mr Kuzuki and gave him grief for being a 'mere Muggle'."

Sakura giggled. "There'd be bodies everywhere if he decided to let loose. Not necessarily corpses, but I'm sure they'd wish they were dead." Sakura's patience with the wizards in that world had worn through pretty quickly, and considering how patient she was, that was saying something. Then again, between Snape's insults, the old goat's meddling, and those idiot Blood Purists (they didn't even have a justification for old families having better magic, as some quick research entailed: if anything, inbreeding had caused the opposite), well, they had tried to tear the two of them apart. And nobody took Hadrian away from Sakura Matou.

The wizards may have been less amoral than most Magi, true, but while many Magi were conservative and behind the times, the wizards were stuck in the Victorian era at the latest, a few innovations like a 'Wizarding Wireless' and the Knight Bus notwithstanding. Rin had trouble working a TV or a computer at home, but at least she was aware of what they were.

"So, what Servant do you think we'll get?" Hadrian asked. "I'd probably be of the type to suit a Caster or an Assassin. Then again, Kirei was Master of Assassin in the previous Grail War, so maybe I shouldn't get one."

"I don't really care which Servant we get, as long as our Servants help protect us and Shirou," Sakura mused. "I wouldn't mind a Saber, though. Especially one like Arturia."

"Hey, you've already got one knight in shining armour, do you really want another one?" Hadrian teased. "And as much as I don't subscribe to chivalry, I'd love to meet Arturia."

He actually felt something of a kinship, of sorts, with the famous Saber who was known to history as King Arthur. He had met with Waver Velvet a few times, who had inherited the title of Lord El-Melloi from his teacher, Kayneth Archibald. Okay, that wasn't by choice, more to avoid any disputes with the Archibalds after Waver stole Kayneth's summoning catalyst, and Kayneth, along with his fiancée, died during the Grail War, but still, he was curious. He had learned that Gilgamesh used to be Tokiomi's Servant, though given the man's alleged murder at the hands of Kariya Matou, Kirei probably took up the reins. Assuming the Gilgamesh Hadrian knew was a Servant (and frankly, Hadrian didn't know how that was possible outside of the Grail War), anyway.

Waver had spoken of his Servant, Iskandar, better known as Alexander the Great of Macedonia. A Rider in the previous Grail War, and a personal inspiration to Waver. Though Waver did agree with Hadrian in at least one regard that his Rider Servant had a flaw: Iskandar disputing Arturia's wish on the Grail.

Arturia wished to relive her rule. Iskandar disdained both that, and her self-martyring and alienating form of kingship, though Hadrian disagreed to a degree. True, Arturia could have ruled better, but wasn't that the point of her wanting a second chance? To learn from her mistakes and correct them?

In the unlikely event that she was ever summoned as a Saber for this Grail War, Hadrian wanted to give her a hug. As much of a twisted and massive troll he was, he'd also been in her shoes to a degree. Born to a destiny forced upon them? Fame stage-managed by a meddling old wizard (Hadrian only learned of Dumbledore's manipulations when he first met the man) who wanted a martyring leader? Shaped by circumstances into something set apart from the norm of humanity? Check, check, and check.

His thoughts on the matter were interrupted when he heard Sakura gasp in horror. His gaze was brought sharply to what she saw. They had emerged near the stairs leading up to Ryuudou Temple, to find a figure collapsed on the sodden ground. A robed figure, apparently that of a woman, her breath rasping with effort. She sounded like she was dying.

Hadrian took a moment to check carefully. While the robes weren't like those he had seen in that other universe, he knew that the wizards wanted him back. However, his senses, while screaming danger, didn't seem to indicate that this was a trap. The robed woman, while dangerous, was only dangerous in the way a dagger was: dangerous if mishandled.

After he indicated to Sakura that it should be safe, the pair of them scampered over and knelt down next to the woman. "Hey, are you okay?" Hadrian asked as he pulled back the hood covering the woman's face…and stared.

The woman was utterly beautiful, inhumanly so. While the hood would have given a more sinister set to her features, in truth, her beauty was a sorrowful one, framed by lavender locks, and streaked with tear marks. Her ears, oddly enough, were pointed, giving her the air of an elf from fantasy fiction.

Her eyes flickered open, and stared at them both blearily, glistening with tears. "Are you all right?" Hadrian repeated, as Sakura began getting to work, checking her body, ready to heal it.

"I've been better," the woman said, a sardonic smile touching her lips.

"Harry…" Sakura said quietly. "Despite appearances…she's not human. Ears notwithstanding." She looked the woman in the eye. "Are you a Servant?"

The woman's sardonic smile grew slightly. "Servant Caster, at your service."

"Then where's your Master?" Hadrian asked.

"Dead," Caster said. "So I am about to deplete my mana reserves, and with it, my existence. You two are Magi?"

"I am a Magus, and Hadrian here is…well, he's Magus-trained," Sakura said.

Hadrian, after some debate, took a vial from his jacket pocket, and handed it to Caster. On her suspicious look, Hadrian said, "It helps replenish mana. I don't know whether it'll help a Servant, but…"

Caster took it and downed it after a brief hesitation. She grimaced, but seemed to straighten. "Hmm. Not bad, boy. Hadrian, was it? And you, girl?"

"Sakura Matou."

* * *

After some debate, Hadrian and Sakura decided to take Caster to Ryuudou Temple for now. While Hadrian could Apparate home (well, that's what the wizards of that other Earth called his teleportation ability), he also knew the monks would be amenable to allowing a stranger to stay for a time. In addition, just as they began helping Caster up the stairs, Kuzuki showed up, and helped them.

Soon, they were in Kuzuki's room, Caster sitting, contemplating a cup of tea that Kuzuki had made. For all the man's stoicism and lack of emotion, he was a considerate host, even if that was done to camouflage his nature rather than out of true goodwill. Hadrian and Sakura had explained, albeit in brief, what Caster's appearance meant.

Kuzuki opted to leave them alone for now. And they were alone with a Servant. "Before either of us agree to make a contract with you," Hadrian said, "I want to know who you are and why your Master died."

"And what makes you think that I would tell you anything, boy?" Caster asked.

"Well, you're an honest and forthright soul, I would imagine," Hadrian joked. "And in any case, while I'm not a priest, I do work for the Church. Maybe this could be a confessional? A bit big for one, really, but still…"

"Oh? And if I say anything objectionable, how would you stop me? I may be low on mana, boy, but I am still a Servant."

"And?" Hadrian said. "Like I said, I work for the Church. I'm an exorcise machine. And a Heroic Spirit can be exorcised. If you're a threat to my friends, then I will deal with you, or die trying."

That was a bit of a bluff. True, the Executors of the Burial Agency could exorcise spirits, possibly even Heroic Spirits, but Hadrian didn't know how. But his magic was powerful enough to be mistaken for magic from the Age of the Gods.

Caster seemed to debate with herself, before she sighed. "I'll answer your questions in reverse order. I killed my Master myself, a foolish Magus by the name of Atrum Galliasta."

Hadrian knew that name. "That smug hack of an alchemist? I heard he was involved in kidnapping people for his experiments, and only got away with it because of his connections. Not to mention not getting caught. How did he get chosen as a Master?"

"So you seem not upset by my killing him?"

"Just elucidate, please. Why did you kill him?"

"Well, the method he used to harvest mana offended me, for one thing. Indeed, I set free his prisoners after I killed him," Caster said. "In addition, he took offence to my claim that my abilities were far superior to his own, and that I could obtain mana more efficiently. Not to mention that he considered me worthless when he thought I could use an ability that I did not possess, not in this form. He had used his Command Seal to prevent me from attacking him, as my legend has something of a reputation, but I had a means around that. My Noble Phantasm. It can sever contracts and negate magecraft. I was able to break our contract."

"Is Atrum Galliasta that bad, Harry?" Sakura asked.

"Not as bad as your grandfather, but that's not saying much. He was still heavily involved in human trafficking, even if nobody could prove it. Why Bazett tolerates him as a colleague is beyond me," Hadrian said. "Okay, so your Master wasn't the best. So, who are you? Well, were you, I mean."

Again, Caster seemed to debate with herself, before she admitted, "Medea of Colchis."

After a moment, Hadrian looked at Sakura, before remarking, "Well, Jason was definitely a fucking idiot. Then again, the Ancient Greeks were known for their misogyny, weren't they? Well, except for the Spartans, and even then, there was the whole Helot thing, and throwing babies off a cliff if they looked sickly. So, what do you reckon, Sakura?"

The two of them read up on history and myth, partly to know something about possible Heroic Spirits. And while Medea's tale painted her as the villain, she pretty much helped Jason get the damned Golden Fleece, betrayed her family for him…and she got screwed over. So while Hadrian would be cautious of her, he also knew better than to think of her as a pure villain.

Sakura, after a moment, made the decision. "I had better make the contract. Better not let your eyes stray, after all." Her tone was jesting, though. Although Sakura was wholly devoted to Hadrian, she was open to another relationship with the right girl or woman. Then again, they were too young to have a relationship with Medea. She was at least a decade their senior if not more.

"You are fine with being my Master?" Medea asked, curious. "Despite knowing who I am?"

"I know what it is like to be betrayed by those who should love me," Sakura said softly. "Or for a hero to fail me. Though Uncle Kariya at least tried. I have two heroes to look after me: Hadrian and Shirou. We will fight together until the final stages of the Grail War."

After a moment, Medea nodded. "You are a fool for believing in heroes, but I like your boyfriend already." She tittered. "I've never heard a single person say that Jason was a 'fucking idiot', and vulgar though that was, it was both amusing and gratifying."

"Sakura's the only person, apart from Shirou, who thinks I'm a hero," Hadrian said. "I'm just a half-baked trash collector who deals with rogue Magi and Dead Apostles. But I also try to consider both sides of the argument. That's why I'm giving you a chance, Medea. Even if I have another Servant, we can be allies until the final stages, and even then, I refuse to hurt Sakura."

"Hmm. Well, that's interesting. Your bonds aside, it's not unusual for Masters to target other Masters. But you have principles?"

"Let's just put it this way. I like pissing people off, but killing them? I only kill those who deserve it…or who need a merciful end. Though some I prolong the end of. If there's any other Masters like your former Master, I'd happily deal with them."

"You should see what he did to the man responsible for kidnapping us recently," Sakura said, before smiling. It was a somewhat dark smile. "He got… _creative_."

Medea raised an eyebrow, and smirked. "Did he? You know, I think this could be the start of a beautiful friendship, you two…"

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, there you have it. Sakura's got Medea, which means no 'gas leaks'. But who'll get the other Servants? More to the point, which one will Hadrian get?**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	136. Separated at Birth Prologue

**So, hot on the heels of _Hadrian Kotomine_ comes another _Fate/Stay Night_ crossover. This was actually a fusion of two ideas. I really, REALLY wanted to do a Harry/Medea story (and if Thunder Dragon is reading this, yes, I have long ago read the Shirou/Medea story _Path of the King_ , and it's in my favourites, and it is a mild inspiration for the story), and I had recently posted a challenge called 'Harry Tohsaka'. So, I thought, why not combine both? Harry is 20, admittedly, albeit through timey-wimey parallel world shenanigans, despite being Rin's twin (still makes Medea a cougar, though).**

 **Also, this story actually feels like it has a lot more potential than _Hadrian Kotomine_ (which will still be published eventually: there's already six completed chapters). Having started watching the _Unlimited Blade Works_ TV series (at long last), I actually like how much more character development it gave Rin, compared to the original _Fate/Stay Night_ anime. She was pretty unlikeable in the original anime, whereas she starts off much more likeable in _Unlimited Blade Works_. The UBW version of Rin is certainly one of the few _tsundere_ characters I actually like. Mela Lee's improved performance also helps. Anyway, I thought she'd make an interesting foil to Harry. She's a wannabe cold-hearted Magus, and he's a jaded, but still altruistic hero, something that'd also make him an interesting contrast to Shirou, Archer, and Arturia.**

 **Anyway, the prologue begins at the beginning of _Unlimited Blade Works_ (albeit with elements from the _Fate_ and _Heaven's Feel_ storylines being brought in). But the chapters after it will focus on Harry adjusting to a new life in the Nasuverse, and Rin (and Sakura) adjusting to having a brother come up out of nowhere, as well as how Harry gains Medea as a Servant.**

 **Oh, and finally, before I go, there is an EXCELLENT Abridged Series version of _Fate/Stay Night: Unlimited Blade Works_ by BlazingAzureCrow. If you want to hear Archer being called 'Actually Satan' by Rin, Shirou have an obsession with saving pipes, an even more murderous Archer, and what is probably the most heartwarming version of Arturia's summoning (and no, I am not making this up), watch it.**

* * *

 _ **SEPARATED AT BIRTH**_

 **PROLOGUE:**

 **AN ARCHER'S CONFUSION**

The Throne of Heroes. An abstract location located apart from known reality. Some thought of it as Valhalla. Others thought of it as something more abstract than a mere afterlife, like a noosphere, brought about by the collective consciousness of life in their need for heroes. Magi have spent centuries debating the true nature of the Throne, but the one thing that could not be disputed was the fact that it existed. The proof occurred every six decades in the Japanese city of Fuyuki, even if that was only known to the secretive Magi.

It held all manner of Heroic Spirits, even those that didn't seem that heroic. After all, one person's hero could be another's villain. And it even included rather unconventional beings to be called 'heroes'. Namely, the Counter-Guardians.

These were entities who had made deals with either the consciousness of Earth, Gaia, or the collective will of humanity, Alaya. Their mission was to stamp out any threats to the safety of the world, no matter what the cost. Many of them were damned souls tricked into Mephistophelean pacts.

One such Counter-Guardian was the entity known as EMIYA. While made of at least two souls with that damned name, the one we are looking at is the man once known as Shirou Emiya. A boy infected by the ideals his adoptive father once possessed, but had discarded to pursue the life of an assassin. That infection proved malignant, having taken root in rich soil, twisting and warping an already distorted, self-sacrificing personality.

He made a career out of being a hero…until circumstances forced him to make a deal with Alaya. It would have been better to make a deal with the Devil. At least the Devil was actually sadistic. But Alaya was utterly impersonal and indifferent to the suffering it caused Shirou. All it wanted was an attack hound it could point at people to kill, and those people would die. This was what his father did in life. So in a perverse manner, Shirou was continuing the family business in what passed for an afterlife.

But he had a potential opportunity to deal with this situation. EMIYA knew that he would be summoned to at least one iteration of the Fifth Holy Grail War, as the Archer Servant of his former friend Rin Tohsaka. If he could, he would take the opportunity to kill his past self before he could make the contract with Alaya. With luck, the time paradox that resulted would erase EMIYA from existence. If not…well, at least he tried.

Suddenly, he felt the pull, and smiled sardonically. He could hear her words as she chanted. " _For the origin, silver and steel. For the cornerstone, gem and the Archduke of Contracts. For the ancestor, my great master Schweinorg_. _The alighted wind becomes a wall. Close the gates in the four directions. From the crown, come forth. Trace the three-forked road leading to the kingdom. Fill, fill, fill, fill, fill. Repeat fivefold, and when each is filled, destroy it_."

 _Well, here goes nothing_ , EMIYA thought. No, Archer. He needed to think of himself as Archer. Emiya was the boy he wanted to destroy, the thoughtless boy who condemned himself to eternal suffering because of his damned ideals. Ideals he had drowned in, and become a monster.

Then, the pull intensified, and the climactic chant began. He felt himself falling through time and relative dimensions in space, while he heard her voice speak…

" _Heed my words. My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny. If you heed the Grail's call, and obey my will and reason, then answer my summoning! I hereby swear that I shall be all the good in the world, that I shall defeat all evil in the world! Seventh Heaven clad, and the great words of power, come forth from the circle of bindings, Guardian of the Scales!_ "

Everything dissolved into a flare of actinic light…

* * *

…And then, he was in freefall. There was something rather Pythonesque, he reflected, in what was about to happen. While he wanted to wreck people's shit in the Grail War, he didn't want to wreck Rin's house.

He didn't scream…though he was tempted to whoop and holler. Instead, he thought, _Trace On_. His Servant body could withstand the impact, true, but it didn't hurt to be careful when one was falling at terminal velocity. Reinforcement was just an insurance policy more than anything. He looked down, and noticed Tohsaka Manor coming up to meet him like a cream pie to the face in some slapstick routine. Yep, Alaya, along with just about every other fucker with a sliver of omnipotence and a bad sense of humour, had it out for him.

And then, with a great crash, he smashed through the roof of Tohsaka Manor, landing on his face. It didn't really hurt…well, his dignity got a little bruised, but it had suffered worse injuries than that. He'd live…well, at least until the time had come to sodomise causality more than Gáe Bolg did. Speaking of which, he was looking forward to trolling Cú Chulainn this time around. That bastard was going to get it for shoving that damned penis spear into his chest.

He got to his feet, and arranged himself on a nearby lounge, making it seemed like he landed on it. Yes, just like that. Look just the right kind of badass.

Archer frowned when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. This wouldn't be that problematic: he was expecting Rin to make an appearance. But his sharp ears picked up at least one other set of footsteps. And he was certain Rin was living alone at this juncture.

The door burst open, and Rin rushed in. Ah, seeing her was so nostalgic. The dark hair done up in twin pigtails, the aqua eyes…that ridiculously short skirt she wore when not at school…

But she was accompanied by someone else. Not Shirou, and not anyone he was familiar with from that life. In fact, he wasn't sure who the hell this was at all.

For one thing, he wasn't Japanese. He was European, with dark, messy hair, emerald eyes peering out from behind glasses. A lightning bolt-shaped scar zigzagged from beneath his fringe. He appeared to be a few years Rin's senior, maybe in his early twenties even.

And yet, despite the lack of oriental features, there was something about the young man's appearance that seemed very much like Rin's. The shape of the face, the intensity of the expression…and there was the way he kept close to Rin. Not a boyfriend…but a sibling? But Rin didn't have any siblings, barring Sakura, and she had been adopted out to the Matou family.

Then, the next surprise of the evening came. The young man spoke in English, rather than Japanese. "Is this really a Servant?"

"Of course he is. He must be," Rin declared. She then frowned. "But is he a Saber?"

 _No luck there_ , Archer thought. He gave them a wink and a cocky smirk.

"We told you about the clocks, remember?" the young man groaned, palming his face. "But no, once you get it into your head…I thought Hermione was stubborn at times. Have you been taking notes from her?"

"Oh, be quiet for a moment!" Rin snapped. Taking some deep, calming breaths, Rin seemed to resolve herself to make the best of a bad lot. "You there! What class of Servant are you meant to be?"

Archer scoffed. _Never change, Rin_ , he thought with a nostalgic pang in his chest. Out loud, he said, "And what kind of question is that? We've only just met. What an unusual little Master I've been summoned by. Then again, maybe I'm the one who got the short end of the stick."

"Oh great, you summoned the Troll class of Servant," the young man said with a flat look. "Call Zelretch, he's probably missing one of his apprentices."

Archer actually had to stop himself from chuckling. That was pretty funny. Rin, meanwhile, asked, "Are you my Servant? And nobody else's? I'm making sure we understand one another off the bat."

"Sure. But where is the evidence that you are my Master?"

Rin showed off her Command Seals. "Right here. That should be all you need to know."

Archer was about to retort, trolling Rin, before he heard a familiar, and unwelcome, voice intrude. " _Actually, aside from your Command Seals, I can tell that there is a mana flow between you two._ " A hooded, robed shape materialised next to the young man. A very familiar robed shape. "Your Servant is merely being insolent in the name of what he believes is humour. I don't know whether to applaud or rebuke him," purred the sultry voice of a too-familiar witch.

"Caster, poke not the Tsundere Missile, for it may go off in our faces," the young man sighed quietly.

 _Oh shit, oh shit, OH FUCK, what is_ _ **SHE**_ _doing here?!_ Archer yelled within the confines of his skull. He fought to keep as much surprise as possible off his face, only allowing the bare minimum to show. The sort of surprise at having another Servant present. "And what is another Servant doing here?" he asked, trying to keep as calm as he could. With mixed success. He wasn't actually scared of this witch, he could deal with her easily enough if he wanted to, but her being here presented a variable he hadn't accounted for, more so than this young man being here. He hadn't been in this time for five minutes, and already he was lost.

Was Rin under that witch's control? Was this young man controlling her through Caster?

"She's my brother's Servant. Well, she is now," Rin said. "Caster was summoned by another Magus, but they had…a falling out. Not that I'm happy allowing a stray in the house after betraying her Master, but..."

"You weren't complaining when I gave you pointers on working on that Mystic Code for that Dead Apostle with the appalling sense of humour," Caster remarked. "Or enhanced those faded Bounded Fields around your home. And I'm still formulating that ritual for those vile things in your sister."

The young man sighed. "Caster, Sis, play nice." He looked over at Archer, his emerald eyes meeting Archer's silver ones. Archer was struck by how much those emerald-coloured eyes reminded him of Saber's, of Arturia Pendragon, the young woman known to history as King Arthur. The love he had lost. Not quite the look of a king, but certainly the look of a seasoned warrior, and too young too. "My twin sister and I have an alliance, at least until the final stage of the Grail War."

"Your _twin_ sister? You don't look that much alike. You look Caucasian, and she looks Japanese. Not to mention she looks younger than you," Archer said.

"It's a very long story involving a kidnapping and a blood adoption in another world," the young man said. "Time flows between different universes are weird. I'm twenty, Rin's seventeen. All of which meant that she got the Magic Crest. I don't mind."

"Because you've got that stupid magic from that other world," Rin retorted. "That is so unfair."

"Should I get some popcorn?" Caster asked. "I get a craving for some while watching you two bicker. I wish we had that back in my time. You argue like an old married couple, only with the additional frisson of incest involved. Though given the blood adoption procedure, you're technically half-siblings now…"

"Caster. TMI," the young man said.

Archer looked askance at Rin. "And you trust your brother to fight alongside you, even though he is also an enemy Master?"

"He even signed a geas contract to that effect," Rin declared. "We both did. Until our Servants are the last ones standing, we cannot attack one another. We modified it so that we are in a coma for a month and we forfeit our privileges as Masters rather than losing our magic or our lives, but still…"

Archer wondered whether that was prudent or stupid. Still, two Masters and two Servants working together were better than one, though he had to wonder how trustworthy Caster was, given his prior experience.

The witch in question strutted over, and examined him critically, her eyes glinting out from beneath her hood. "Hmm…well, at least you're not my first husband. Alliance or not, I would have ended your existence forthwith if you were. You don't look like anyone I know either. Since there are only three classes left to draw, you're either a Saber, an Assassin, or an Archer. So, please answer Rin's question. Which class are you?"

"If you must know, I am an Archer. Though I have some tricks up my sleeve."

"I'm sure you do. I'd be interested to see them," Caster said with a smile.

Archer looked at the three of them. If it had only been Rin, he might have engaged in some ribbing, push her buttons and stoke her temper, make her remember how inexperienced she truly was. However, he didn't know how Caster or her Master would react, at least if he pushed her too far. With a weary sigh, he stood up. "Well, it seems like I am stuck with you, my Master. However, keep in mind that I will take the lead when it comes to tactics. Try not to get yourself killed."

"We watch each other's backs," the young man said. "Besides, magical tournament with possibly lethal consequences? Yeah, I've been there before. Not this Holy Grail War BS where we battle to the death for an overrated cup. But I've been there before. And in war."

He meant it. There was no lie in the boy's sardonic admission. Archer found himself feeling a little sorry. Another person who saw hell too young. "Incidentally, I'm curious. We Servants must conceal our name to conceal our weaknesses, but Masters are another matter. What's your name?"

"Harry. I thought my last name was Potter, but it was really Tohsaka. As I said, and hard thought it is to believe, I'm Rin's brother…"

 **PROLOGUE ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, there you have it. Harry's the brother of Rin Tohsaka, believe it or not, and he's the Master of Medea. Now, for the next few chapters, we'll have how Harry ended up at this point. In fairly abbreviated form, anyway.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	137. Separated at Birth Chapter 1

**Well, I'm gratified at the response my prologue chapter for _Separated at Birth_ has garnered. It's worth pointing out, though, that the full story won't be as humour-filled as that one. I thought about Archer and his character, and thought, instead of having angsty dialogue about his admittedly shitty situation, he would just snark at everything as a coping mechanism. Keep in mind, he does have some very dry snark at times. This story will still have some humour in it, mostly some snark. Hell, even Sakura gets in on it (calling Harry sick of living when he keeps calling Taiga 'Tiger', for example). And Harry will make some cynical observations of the various Servants. But this will be a mostly serious story.**

 **Incidentally, this chapter marks a few milestones. Over 400K words in _The Cauldron_ , over 900 reviews, over 380K views...**

* * *

 _ **SEPARATED AT BIRTH**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **REUNION**

 _About a year ago_ …

A young European man, maybe eighteen or nineteen, walked down the street in Fuyuki one cold Saturday. Beyond his apparently being a foreigner, there wasn't much remarkable about him. He was somewhat scrawny, with a shaggy mop of untameable black hair, from underneath a lightning-like scar snaked out, scarring his forehead.

Not for the first time, he cursed the spite of one man who had exposed a secret he hadn't known about, one that had severed ties that were already tenuous. At least one friendship had been thoughtlessly broken off before it could begin anew, the press, having lauded him as their saviour, had once more turned on him (big surprise there). And it was only through the friends that remained that he even had a chance to start anew.

He used to call himself Harry Potter. But thanks to that bastard Snape, he didn't even have that. His birth name was Risei Tohsaka(1). He was born Japanese, from another world. And as he found out from the letter Snape had published in _The Daily Prophet_. Well, it was a rather extended epistle. Whatever small goodwill Snape had garnered from Harry for his sacrifice and for showing him his love for Lily had been wiped away. Snape had probably known it would only come out after his death: his letter opened with Captain Ahab's dying words as he harpoons Moby Dick. _From hell's heart I stab at thee. For hate's sake, I spit my last breath at thee_.

Snape was no hero. He was just a spiteful man filled with self-interest, dying only because he hoped to take down Voldemort and Harry with him. And as he knew Harry had a chance of surviving due to that damned harebrained plan of Dumbledore, he set up this letter. He exposed a lot of Dumbledore's dirty laundry, stuff that even Rita Skeeter hadn't found out about for her sensationalist biography. Including Harry's true origins.

Apparently James had been sterile for some time, ever since a curse from Snape hit him. Concerned, Dumbledore decided to take matters into his own hands. Lily, at his behest, had faked a pregnancy, and he had found, it was claimed, an orphaned baby boy, one that they used a Blood Adoption ritual on. Snape later learned from Dumbledore (as late as Harry's Second Year) that Dumbledore had used a ritual and his Phoenix Fawkes to claim a child, one from another world. One with the magical potential to vanquish Voldemort. Someone Dumbledore could make into his protégé. Or puppet.

Harry hadn't been inclined to believe the words coming from Snape's poison pen at first, but too many were. There had been a lot of chaos, not least because Snape had exposed Voldemort's true heritage as a Halfblood too. Apparently Sirius and Remus had known, as Harry found out when he went back and found the Resurrection Stone to ask them, but they had been subject to Memory Charms from Dumbledore. Which meant the Blood Wards did sod all. Dumbledore had lied to justify Harry staying at the Dursleys.

For final confirmation, Harry went to Gringotts. The Goblins had fined him much of his money in response to that saga, and had only refrained from taking the rest of it because Harry explained about the Horcrux. Still, relations between Harry and the Goblins were fraught, and they had charged him far more than usual to do the inheritance test.

And there it was, the undeniable truth. Harry's birth name was Risei Tohsaka, blood adopted by the Potters. What was more, Snape's words of Harry coming from another world meant that he needed to find a way to get to that world. He had sacrificed so much to save this damned country from Voldemort, and for what? Ginny had, after some thoughts of getting back together, broken off with him in a thoughtless act, thinking he had lied to her. Ron had taken Harry's side, albeit for the reason that Snape was a spiteful bastard (though Ron's words were far stronger, to Molly's annoyance), though his relationship with Hermione broke down for unrelated purposes. Molly, thankfully, had been a comfort to Harry.

Into this appalling situation came an unlikely saviour. Luna Lovegood.

Luna Lovegood was, admittedly, a rather strange girl, but they began to realise she was very strange indeed. It became even more apparent when they met a man she called a grandfather, a tall, powerfully-built man by the name of Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg, better known and cursed as Zelretch. Despite looking old, he had a vitality and an impish sense of humour that clicked with George Weasley.

Oh, and he was a centuries-old vampire from another world.

Zelretch came from a world where magic, while hidden, was different in many regards. It was more rigidly structured in many regards, and its study was, much to Hermione's delight, more 'scientific', if such a word could be applied to magic, or rather, magecraft. Having heard of Harry's plight during a rare visit to Luna, he wanted to meet Harry. After all, he had connections with the Tohsaka family, with Harry's ancestor Nagato being one of Zelretch's most famous apprentices (and one of the few he hadn't broken). And Harry was pleased to learn that the sisters the inheritance test had indicated were still alive. Rin, and Sakura, though his birth parents were dead. Oh, and time passed weirdly between the two worlds: Harry was nineteen, but his twin sister was now sixteen.

It was months of preparation before Harry, along with his friends, took Zelretch up on his offer to shift to another world. Part of it was Hermione retrieving her parents and dealing with the fallout after restoring their memories. They reconciled, but relations were fraught for a time. There was also education in magecraft and the nature of the new world they were going to head to. The Lovegoods, Harry, the Grangers, George Weasley, Andromeda Tonks and Teddy Lupin. Outcasts and the broken. They left Magical Britain, though not before Harry left a letter of his own to be published in _The Daily Prophet_. It ended with Harry telling them that, if another Dark Lord arose, then they could save themselves. Fawkes had come with them, the Phoenix apparently wishing to make up for his crime in kidnapping Harry in the first place by becoming his familiar.

This world was, if anything, even harsher than the one he left behind. Older magic families held sway again, though at least this time, there was some small justification. Older families had more of a connection to magic. Magecraft was developed through research. And, ironically, the more people who could use it, the less effective it was, partly thanks to Gaia, the consciousness of the world. Not that it effected magic from his former world, but Harry found himself able to use both, amazingly, something only the others could only match with difficulty and transplanted magic circuits.

Okay, learning magecraft was hard as hell, and having to shift gears from what he thought of as magic to a different form was jarring. But he managed to cram the basics in. He was appalled at the amoral attitude of many Magi, and he knew that Clock Tower was not for him. Hermione became the research assistant to Waver Velvet, Lord El-Melloi II, a young man of considerable note, and one of the few higher-ups in Clock Tower without a major stick up his arse. George became Zelretch's protégé, not in magic, but in pranking, though Luna became an apprentice for magic.

But Harry wanted to reconnect with his family. And after learning the translation charms needed to speak Japanese, as well as material needed for him to learn the language properly, he set out for Japan, and to Fuyuki. Beforehand, Zelretch engaged with Rin in correspondence, letting her know about her long lost relative. She was sceptical for various reasons (not least of which was Zelretch's reputation for being a troll), but eventually agreed to see him.

There was a possible reason for her recalcitrance, Harry knew. Magi's magic research was engraved within the magic circuits within their body, as a semi-biological component. This could be transplanted upon death into a relative or even an heir not of their blood. These were known as Magic Crests, and were valuable beyond belief. As they could only be granted to a single heir, multiple children could lead to an inheritance dispute. Well, unless you had the Ore Scales sorcery trait of the Edelfelt family. Rin may have been worried that, as priority was given to male heirs normally, and Harry was, despite being her twin, technically older.

It was why his youngest sister, Sakura, had been adopted out. Apparently she was now the heiress to the Matou family, formerly the Makiris of Russia. He thought that rather callous, but Zelretch had sadly relayed to him that this was not uncommon, and the Matous were lately producing the Magi equivalent of Squibs.

As his thoughts came to an end, so did his journey. He found himself in front of an old, dilapidated estate. Grand, yes, but with ivy crawling all over the house, and the gardens unkempt. Still, there was an intercom next to the gate, and he pressed the button. After a moment, the speaker crackled, and he was greeted in Japanese.

In English, he asked, "Rin Tohsaka?"

" _Yes? Who is this?_ " the girl replied in quite good English.

"It's Harry. Zelretch mentioned I was coming here."

After a moment, he heard her reply, her voice filled with irritation and wariness, " _Come in. But no funny stuff._ "

* * *

He was greeted at the door by a suspicious Rin. It was startling how much he resembled her, her oriental features notwithstanding. True, her eyes were more aqua, and her hair wasn't as messy, but the shape of the face and the colour of the hair were similar. She wore a red shirt with a white cross-like symbol stitched into it, and a black skirt that was rather scandalously short. A silence fell, before Harry said, rather awkwardly, "Hi."

"Hello," Rin said stiffly, shaking his proffered hand warily after he entered. "You're the one who is supposed to be my twin brother."

"If it makes you feel any better, it was very much a surprise to me too," Harry said.

"It doesn't. I wouldn't have even given it credit if it weren't for Zelretch, and even then, that damned Dead Apostle is infamous for his practical jokes," Rin said. "Which is why I have prepared a certain ritual in advance. It allows me to determine whether you are my brother or not, as well as whether you are a Homunculus. More than a few Magi family have fallen prey to a lost heir turning out to be a Homunculus, planted by another family. The von Einzberns did that more than once."

Ah, yes. The von Einzberns. Zelretch gave him a crash course on Fuyuki, and the event it was most famous for, the Holy Grail War. An event that was founded not only by Zelretch himself, but by three prominent Magus families: the von Einzberns, the Tohsakas, and the Matous, back when they were the Makiris. He found that hard to believe, what happened in these bloody tournaments, but he was glad he probably wouldn't have to see it: they only occurred every sixty years, and the last one was nine years ago.

"Well, would it make you feel any better if I said I had no desire for the Magic Crest?"

"No."

"…What about if I brought along some money, tomes, and magical artifacts…sorry, you call them Mystic Codes, don't you? Jeez, I keep messing up with the terminology."

"…Did you happen to bring any jewels?" Rin asked, her attitude going from suspicious to tentatively hopeful.

Harry grinned. Zelretch had mentioned that the Tohsakas had an affinity with Jewelcraft, infusing jewels with magical properties. He pulled out of his pocket his shrunken trunk, and placed it on the floor. He touched a special switch, then opened up the trunk, revealing the compartment that held the precious jewels he had taken from the Potter vault. Her eyes glittered with avarice, not for their monetary worth, but something else. She walked over, and gently scooped out a few. "These are of excellent quality. They are perfect for Jewelcraft. Do you know how to use that?"

"Only what Zelretch managed to teach me, based on our ancestor's notes," Harry said. "I've managed some of the basics, but I've only been doing this for a few weeks." He pulled out a bag in the same compartment, sitting on top of the jewels, and tipped out about half a dozen jewels, and handed them to Rin.

She examined them critically, and remarked, "Sloppy. Not bad, but sloppy work. Then again, for someone who has been doing it for only a few weeks, I'm actually impressed. If you really were raised on another world using another form of magic, then this is surprisingly good."

"Thank you," Harry remarked, a little acidly at her blunt assessment. "So…this ritual?"

"Oh, yes. Right. Come with me, please."

As they walked through the house, Harry said, "Your English is very good."

"Thank you. Between our high school English teacher and tuition from my guardian, I'd like to think I'm rather good at it. I speak German as well: I use it for my incantations."

"Yeah, your guardian. Where are they, anyway?" Harry asked.

Rin scowled. "He's at the church he runs. Kirei Kotomine. A priest and a Magus. I don't think you'll like him, though."

"And Sakura?"

"…That's complicated," Rin said after a brief pause. "My father told me to treat her like she is a Matou now, before he died. And I think Zouken told her to treat me the same way. We're on good enough terms, but we haven't called each other sister for years now. It's for the best."

"Bollocks," Harry said succinctly. "I came here to meet my family, and that's what I'm going to do. Anyway, let's get on with this ritual first. Just leave me enough blood to write my will with, okay?"

"Ha ha," Rin said flatly.

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry has met his twin sister. Now, events will skip around a little until the events of** ** _Fate/Stay Night_** **. You have been warned.**

 **1\. Thinking of a Japanese name for Harry was actually a little tough to decide. But given the respect Tokiomi shows Risei Kotomine, even treating him like a surrogate father or grandfather in some regards, it would not be out of the question, I think, for Tokiomi to name his first son after him.**


	138. Pulvis et Umbra Sumus Chapter 1

**So, yet again, we have another _RWBY_ crossover. This one is based somewhat on whitetigerwolf's _Letter Challenge 1_ , as well as some discussion of story elements with whitetigerwolf. This will be a Harry/Neo story, eventually, but there will be some preamble. Harry won't be going to Beacon, due to a certain ability you will see below, but he will still play a part in the _RWBY_ story. This begins about three years prior to _RWBY_ canon.**

 **The title, rather appropriately, means, 'We are dust and shadow'...**

* * *

 _ **PULVIS ET UMBRA SUMUS**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **THE BRANWENS**

The bar was dingy and of considerable ill-repute. Just the way Qrow Branwen liked it. As much as he had turned his back on the tribe he had been born into (and didn't Raven love pointing that fact out, not caring that their tribe were a bunch of thieves, rapists and murderers?), he enjoyed roughing it somewhat. As much as he cared about his nieces, not to mention his brother-in-law Taiyang, sometimes, he just wanted to get the hell away from civilisation sometimes, even from a quiet place like Patch.

It was painful to see Ruby, at times. She looked up to him, adored him. She reminded him painfully of her mother, Summer…and of his own paramour. Of a young woman taken from him too soon. Of a camaraderie that had turned to bitter rancour with his lover's brother. Not that the brother had known they were lovers. Hazel Rainart reacted badly enough to Gretchen's death…had he known that she had been sleeping with Qrow, Hazel would have done more than swear bloody vengeance against Ozpin. And Hazel was one scary motherfucker. And that was without going into the rumours that he may have joined forces with Salem.

Salem…to know that a being like that, no, a monster, existed in the world, and had done so for millennia, well, that was cause enough for Qrow to be a dipsomaniac…not that he needed more of an excuse.

Ozpin had sent him on another fact-finding mission to Mistral, mostly to look into the activities of the White Fang, the Faunus civil rights group that seemed to be spiralling into becoming a terrorist group. Qrow sighed to himself, thinking of what Ghira Belladonna would think of what Sienna Khan was doing to the organisation he had led until handing it to the tiger Faunus. Sienna wasn't actually that bad per se, she was quite intelligent, and was more fixated on securing Faunus rights at any cost than actually wanting to usurp humanity…but her hardline stance and willingness to condone violent means had attracted a number of fanatics to the White Fang. And those nutjobs had started to wear Grimm masks, just like a few members of his old tribe.

A bartender came up to him, and said, "Some woman came in and paid for your booze. Probably just as well, you've been knockin' 'em back like there's no tomorrow."

 _Speak of the devil, and she shall appear_ , Qrow thought, before he asked, "Where is she?"

The bartender pointed towards a secluded corner, and sure enough, there she was, waiting for him patiently. With a sigh of annoyance, Qrow took his drink, and walked over to the woman who shared his dark hair and crimson eyes, and the face and hair length of his oldest niece, Yang Xiao Long. His sister, Raven Branwen.

"So," he slurred as he slumped into a chair opposite Raven, "what can I do for you?"

Well, her smirking wasn't a good sign. "I was going to say the same thing. No hello, brother?"

"Save it, sis. You've tracked me down for a reason, and it's not gonna be about how you've finally decided to say hello to Taiyang, Yang and Ruby after all this time. We've had this argument before, so cut to the chase."

Raven bristled somewhat, before she said, "Well, we'll skip the pleasantries. Though family is part of it. The tribe has nothing to do with it either. You are aware of how my Semblance works?"

Qrow nodded, though he wasn't sure what the point was. A Semblance was a unique ability, tied into the Aura (or manifested soul) of a person. Not everyone manifested a Semblance, only those with awakened Auras. His Semblance, sadly, couldn't be activated (or more to the point, deactivated) at will: he was basically an epicentre for bad luck.

Raven's Semblance, however, was an ability to manifest portals, that she could use to go to people she made connections with. In theory, she could use them to visit not only Qrow, but Taiyang and Yang, as he knew she had those connections. Not that she ever availed herself of that, save to watch them, he was sure, in her raven form.

"So, your point is?" Qrow asked.

"Well, Qrow, it might interest you to know that, while I need to make a conscious connection for someone unrelated by blood…it is somewhat automatic for someone of my blood. What's more, it's not confined to Remnant. I could, if I wished to, visit another world, assuming I had someone of my blood or someone I had made a connection to there."

"I fail to see your point."

"Partly because you're drunk."

"And you're a bitch, but tomorrow, I'll be sober(1)."

Raven snorted. "You haven't been sober since our second year at Beacon. It's a wonder your liver's lasted this long, even with your Aura regenerating it. My point is, there's a blood relation of ours that I have only recently discovered. I have made discreet trips to observe him. About the only thing he shares with us is our hair. He's thirteen, only a few months away from fourteen. And he's gained some sort of infamy."

Qrow nodded, before something about what his sister said got through his alcohol-addled mind. "Nearly fourteen?" he slurred. "But…"

"I did some research during my visits. He was born about nine months after Gretchen disappeared. What's more, I found this in his possession. One of his teachers knew his adoptive parents, and had kept this letter. I took it from him while as a raven."

Qrow took the proffered piece of paper, his hand trembling not from the DTs but with anxiety. He unfolded the letter, and started reading.

 _Dearest Harry,_

 _As I write this letter, you are asleep in your crib. That said, it is my deepest hope that you never see this letter, that we can tell you this in person. If we're not, both your father and I are dead._

 _Before I go any further, you need to know, James and I love you with all our hearts. Regardless of how you feel after reading this letter, to us you are our son._

 _That last bit may have confused you, and that is where we get into the important part of this letter. While you are our son, I did not give birth to you._

 _Shortly before your birth, your father and I found a woman in our backyard. She was injured, and obviously pregnant. I don't know if you will know this, but I worked as a healer. I did my best to stabilize the woman and save her life...but it was for naught. She died but her child...you,_ _ **lived**_ _. That alone was a miracle, especially as your birth mother had been poisoned, and you were still within her womb. To this day, I am unaware of what exactly the poison that killed her was. Nothing I did was able to stop it, and how you survived it, I have no clue._

 _Your father and I have no idea of your mother's identity. She was, at her best, incoherent and mumbling. She mumbled two words, over and over. I don't if they'll be any help if you ever decide to try and find where you come from, but they were "Crow" and "Salem"._

 _We tried to find out more about her, but we never found anything. Even a blood-test on you was inconclusive, perhaps due to the poison that had run through you and your mother's veins, perhaps for some other reason._

 _When we were unable to find out who your mother was, and hence her family or your father, James and I decided to blood-adopt you as our own. Considering our own problems conceiving, you were a blessing to us, despite the tragic way you came into the world._

 _As I said at the beginning of this letter, I had hoped your father and I would be able to tell you ourselves when you were old enough. But if you are reading this, we obviously weren't. That said, James and I love you, and we always will. Regardless of how you came to us, at this point, you are our son, our little miracle. Never believe that you are not a true Potter._

 _With all my Love,_

 _Your Mother,_

 _Lily Potter_

Qrow stared at the letter in shock. While the contents of the letter were mostly strange to him, one thing came to him. "This…this…this was Gretchen."

Raven nodded. "Given how she spoke of Salem as often as she mentioned you, it would be a fair assumption that Salem captured her. Salem must have found a way to counter that teleportation Semblance of hers, until she found a means to escape…only she ended up a long way from home."

"What do you mean?" Qrow asked.

Raven rolled her eyes. "Keep up, Qrow. It seems that, like my own Semblance, Gretchen's Semblance is capable of crossing over to another world."

"…You're joking."

"Do I look like I'm in a joking mood?" Raven asked.

"You always had a better poker face than me, how the fuck am I supposed to know?" Qrow was babbling a little. Raven had fired a couple of broadsides with those revelations. One was that Gretchen had been pregnant, with his child, and had been captured by Salem. Another was that Gretchen had managed to escape, and gave birth to his child. His child was alive and well…apparently.

As if sensing his thoughts, Raven said, quietly, "Qrow, it's not as simple as that. The kid's very scrawny and short for his age. I think he was suffering from malnutrition for a time. I think he's been abused by his guardians, as his adoptive parents, including that Lily woman who wrote the letter, were apparently murdered when he was one. What's more, he's a wizard. He's going to a school like Beacon, only it's for magic users. I wish I was making this up, before you ask. And for all Ozpin's faults, he at least has a sense of style, not like the headmaster of that school." She shuddered. "It was like a rainbow had dysentery. Apparently there's some fugitive after him too. Some escaped murderer called Sirius Black or something. And before you ask, I've seen pictures of him, and he looks nothing like Marcus Black. And there's soul-eating creatures roaming the grounds of the school. Anyway, I thought I'd bring this to your attention."

"Why?" Qrow asked, trying to keep his emotions in check. "I'm surprised you didn't take him yourself."

Raven scoffed. "We may have had our disagreements, Qrow, on what we think family is, but I thought you'd deserve a chance to meet your son. Maybe even persuade him to come back with us. I'm sure Ruby would love to have an older brother figure…other than a drunken uncle, anyway." She then gave a slight sardonic smirk. "Besides, consider this doing you a favour that I will collect on some time."

Qrow scowled. So that was her angle. Still, Raven, for all her hypocrisy and ruthlessness as a bandit leader, knew better than to betray him about something like that. "So…let's go and see him, shall we?"

* * *

Of course, it wasn't as simple as that. Raven further briefed him on what she had seen. He had to admit to being impressed by how long she spent performing recon, albeit on relatively short jaunts over a number of months. She wanted to be sure that she had the right child, as well as to determine a few things about the territory they were going through.

Qrow was grateful for that: as big a bitch as she was, Raven was smart, and it seemed she retained enough compassion for her brother to actually give this boy, Harry (bit of a boring name, really), to him rather than take her for herself. Given her antagonism towards him or anyone connected to Beacon and Ozpin (hidden behind a mask of calm politeness), he wouldn't have been surprised if Raven didn't kidnap him herself and raise him as her own child, poisoning him against his father and his relatives. Oh, she had the favour to hold over his head, which was still very Raven, but she was giving him a chance.

Then again, would this kid accept them? Would he want to come with them? Okay, Harry had, apparently (according to some pilfered books and overheard conversations), been the target of some terrorist wizard for some time, and said wizard still had lackeys running around, like a wizard version of the White Fang, only it was a privileged minority as terrorists rather than an oppressed one. But still, would Harry agree to come with them?

At the very least, Qrow wanted to talk to him. If the kid had seen the letter, he already knew he had been adopted. And while Qrow would be the first to admit he wasn't the most responsible of people (unless fighting the Grimm and Salem counted, which it sort of did), he wanted to take responsibility here, if only for Gretchen's sake. If the kid didn't want to leave, that was his lookout.

It was a weird experience, travelling through one of Raven's portals. He didn't know whether that was an innate property, or else just the effects of travelling between worlds. Still, it was disconcerting.

The first true sign that Raven was telling the truth was seeing a full moon in the sky…completely and utterly intact, unlike the semi-shattered ruin of Remnant's moon. There was also an ancient castle in the distance, silhouetted against the night sky. Qrow would have been more awed…had he not heard the howl of something that sounded too much like a Beowolf for his liking. Raven had told him there were no Grimm on this world, though.

What he heard next, though, sent even more chills down his spine. A warped, flanging voice cackling in the distance, before saying, " _You wanna play, mutt? Okay…PLAY DEAD!_ "

A sound like a dog's yelp cut off suddenly, and suddenly, something flew over a nearby hillock, and landed heavily near their feet. The resemblance to a Beowulf was uncanny, if it looked more like an animal than a Grimm. Ragged fur, vaguely humanoid shape…and thankfully for them, out cold.

"Harry! You didn't…" yelled a girl's voice.

" _Calm down, Hermione_ ," spoke the same warped voice. " _It was just a lovetap. If Moony's dead from something like that, I'd be surprised. The greasy haired bastard, though, may have been another matter…_ "

After a moment, an older man's voice spoke. "Dammit, Peter's gone! And Ron's out cold!"

Qrow and Raven approached, carefully, and found themselves cresting the hillock to find a strange trio. Well, a quintet, but two of their number, a readheaded boy in his early teens and a rather unpleasant-looking greasy-haired man were out cold. There was a bushy-haired girl of about the same age, clutching at a bleeding arm, and a man wearing rags and with matted, tangled hair.

But what drew the Branwen siblings' attention was the figure dressed in the same robes as the teenagers. Qrow felt another chill run down his spine, when he saw it…no, him. The left half of his face seemed to be covered by what looked like a Grimm's skull, from which an eye peered out, red iris on sclerae as black as pitch…so much like the images Ozpin had shared of Salem. So too was the deathly pale skin, marred by pitch black veins, and bone white hair on the exposed side of his face, the eye on that side covered by what looked like the lens from a pair of glasses. The face was filled with madness and hostility, the mouth twisted into a bloodthirsty smirk. He looked like some unholy hybrid of Grimm and human.

" _Ooh, do I have more toys?_ " the apparition said, before he flinched. The skull seemed to dissolve into dust, and his appearance changed. His skin, while still pale, became less pallid, his hair became a messy thatch of black, and his eyes became an emerald colour…flecked with silver, Qrow noted, even in the night. He became, well, normal. Even frightened a little.

"And who the hell are you two?!" the man demanded. "Were you sent to apprehend me?"

"Perish the thought," Raven said. "We're here for the boy. To talk, more than anything else."

A retort died on the lips of the boy, when those present to feel the temperature of the surrounding area drop rapidly. And with it, a surprising feeling of dread and fear and sheer unhappiness seemed to fill the two Hunters. "Dementors!" the man hissed, as cloaked shapes began flying out of the darkness at them.

"Qrow! Dust rounds!" Raven snapped, before drawing her own sword and slashing at the cloaked shapes. Qrow changed Harbinger into its shotgun mode, and began firing.

But the creatures began to overwhelm them, even as Raven hacked them apart with her sword, and Qrow shot them with Dust rounds. One began to clasp the man's face in its corpse-like hands, like the tender caress of a lover. Qrow could feel these creatures ramp up their aura, and felt despair.

But then, the boy said, "Sirius…Hermione…no! Stop…I SAID STOOOOOP!"

This last word was drawn out into a wail as his eyes began to glow…before that glow suddenly burst into streams of brilliant light, like molten silver formed into wings. Wings that smote every one of these vile monsters in their path. The Dementors screeched, and tried to get away…but the light struck them down. Every last one was annihilated by the blast of energy that had blasted forth from the boy's eyes.

As the light faded, Qrow blinked away the afterimage, to find the boy swaying on his feet. For a moment, his irises were wholly silver, before they changed back to the mostly-emerald colour they were before…and then flickered shut, before the boy sagged to the ground, caught by Qrow.

"He has the Silver Eyes," Raven murmured, before adding as the understatement of the century, "Well…this complicates things…"

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Yep. That it does. There'll be a bit of a timeskip to the next chapter, when Harry wakes up…only, it's not in the Hogwarts infirmary…**

 **Now, what Harry's powers were came about with considerable discussion with whitetigerwolf, whose challenge (** ** _Letter Challenge 1_** **) this was based on (the letter Qrow reads is a slightly modified version of the one from the challenge). I had considered controlling Grimm as in** ** _HVNL_** **by Hellfire17, or even a full-on Grimm transformation as in** ** _The Grimm Huntsman_** **by TheSilverboar. whitetigerwolf was supportive of Harry having the Silver Eyes, but not if it went along with controlling Grimm. If that makes him too OP, especially with the were-Grimm transformation, keep the following in mind.**

 **Firstly, the only two times Ruby uses her eyes in canon (so far) have been under extreme emotional stress. So it has been with Harry (who, as you will discover, has actually used them before, which we will explore later, though anyone who has seen Dis Lexic's own attempt at answering this challenge), and he won't be learning how to master them quickly.**

 **Secondly, giving Harry the part-Grimm form was partly a derivation of the letter, where Lily mentions a poison running through Gretchen's body that didn't affect him. We'll go into further detail later, but let's just say that Salem was involved in an experiment that will backfire. I also wanted to give Harry something that would mean that he'd have to stay away from Magical Britain…and would mean that he doesn't get involved with Beacon as well. As tempted as I was to have Harry attend Beacon, I felt it might seem like an also-ran of** ** _Under the Light of the Shattered Moon_** **. Harry will still get involved in many of the events of** ** _RWBY_** **, but as an independent agent of Ozpin's.**

 **Now, onto Harry's parentage. The idea that eventually spawned this, believe it or not, had Roman as Harry's father (it was derived from whitetigerwolf's attempt at a story where Balalaika from** ** _Black Lagoon_** **was Harry's mother). I had thought of an OC Huntress as his mother, only to hit upon Hazel Rainart's sister, Gretchen. We know so little about her, save that she died young during a mission for Ozpin, so she was fixed as Harry's mother fairly early on. But because of how the story in my mind was turning out, Harry's father eventually changed into Qrow Branwen. This actually offered a neat solution as to how to get Harry to Remnant, too: just make Raven's portal ability stronger than in canon. This saved having to use some magic BS or a Portkey gone wrong or a Veil-assisted transdimensional pratfall.**

 **Now, why does Harry have the Silver Eyes? I'd like to think that, while Gretchen Rainart didn't actually have them, the whole Silver Eyes thing can, potentially, pop up as the result of either the usual mixing up of genes from offspring, or else through a point mutation or two. A bit like, say, how a Muggleborn is born to Muggles. Harry's eyes were changed from their silver colour thanks to the blood-adoption by the Potters, but he's still got them. Making Gretchen the mother of Harry was better than having Summer being Harry's mother. It also sets things up for an interesting conflict between Harry and his uncle.**

 **And the Grimm form? I thought of it as being basically like a more benign version of Ichigo Kurosaki's part-Hollow form from** ** _Bleach_** **. Harry becomes violent and bloodthirsty and a little sadistic, but he's not a danger to his allies or to innocents. He's not quite a split personality, either. Long term readers of my fanfics may remember my** ** _Borderlands_** **fics, with an OC called Richard Snyder, who basically had a condition that was somewhere between the Spark from** ** _Girl Genius_** **and the 'Jack the Ripper' personality of Raiden from** ** _Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance_** **. While it seems like a split personality, it actually isn't, just another facet of the same personality, with less morality and more bloodthirstiness. Harry's used it a couple of times before.**

 **Keep in mind that this is also something of an AU of the Potterverse after the end of Book 1, due to Harry unlocking the Silver Eyes.**

 **1\. Raven and Qrow are paraphrasing an argument between Bessie Braddock and Winston Churchill, though Churchill called Braddock 'ugly'.**


	139. Pulvis et Umbra Sumus Chapter 2

**Well, I'm gratified at the response to the first chapter of _Pulvis et Umbra Sumus_. I will be glossing over a few things, admittedly to get to the point more quickly. Harry is not going to be happy with either Qrow or Raven for a while, as you'll see in this chapter. Taiyang and his children are another matter, though. Indeed, while Yang and Ruby are technically Harry's cousins, he will have more of a sibling relationship with them (and no, I am not following the fanon that Qrow is Ruby's father...unless it's confirmed by Rooster Teeth).**

 **Now, a guest has asked a number of questions, which I will try to answer in brief before the story goes on. Firstly, the story is strictly Harry/Neo, and a pre-Torchwick Neo will appear for the first time, I hope, in Chapter 4. Secondly, the poison/venom/toxin (or whatever pedantic hazardous material term is needed) Salem used is actually the essence of Grimm material, so while it was harming Gretchen, it became integrated with Harry, basically acting as a partial, mostly benign teratogen (the nearest analogy I can think of, offhand, are Element Zero from the _Mass Effect_ games, though I'm sure there are other possible fictional substances that would be a better fit). Because Harry destroyed the Horcruxes with the effects of the Silver Eyes on Quirrelmort (I took a leaf from Dis Lexic's attempt at whitetigerwolf's challenge), the Chamber of Secrets saga never took place, and the worst that happened to Harry was having his Parselmouth abilities exposed (and that was bad enough). Sadly, this also means poor Dobby was never freed from the Malfoys, and the Basilisk still lives, albeit in slumber.**

 **The chapter title, for those paying attention, is a reference to the lyrics of the title song of Volume 1, _This Will Be The Day_.**

* * *

 _ **PULVIS ET UMBRA SUMUS**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **WELCOME TO A WORLD OF NEW SOLUTIONS,**

 **WELCOME TO A WORLD OF BLOODY EVOLUTION**

Harry didn't know what he was expecting when he woke up, save for maybe the Hogwarts infirmary. That had become something of a habit for him ever since he started learning magic there. But he felt like something the cat dragged in and pissed all over. Then again, this whole past year had been somewhat crappy. Between the Dementors, that letter Professor Lupin got him telling him that he had been adopted, Snape being more of an arse than usual, and the escaped fugitive who he thought was a traitor was actually innocent…well, Harry could be forgiven for feeling like life had a desire to shit all over him.

In any case, as his eyes flickered open, he found himself in some sort of bedroom, in a house. And sitting nearby was a dark-haired woman of an indeterminate age, with crimson eyes, and dressed in red and black. He remembered her from earlier, the woman who had come shortly before the Dementors did. There was something dangerous about this woman that he could sense, something lethal.

"So, you're awake," she said in a soft, calm voice. "Good. The girl, Hermione I think her name was…she was getting hysterical. She's talking to my daughter and stepdaughter. The other two are speaking to my brother and my ex. So, I have been left to explain things."

"…Who are you?"

"My name is Raven Branwen," the woman said. "And I am your aunt."

Harry's first reaction was to laugh quietly in a mixture of disbelief and just sheer shock from the disparity between this woman and his supposed Aunt Petunia. "My aunt," he said flatly.

"Yes. The man you met shortly before we fought those abominations was your biological father, my brother Qrow. Q-R-O-W. Your adoptive mother made the understandable mistake of thinking it began with a 'C'."

"…How do you know this?" Harry asked. "It was in that letter that damned raven snatched…"

Raven scoffed quietly, before fishing said letter from her jacket, and placing it on him. "I don't have much time to waste explaining things to you. I found out about your existence not long ago, and kept you under surveillance for a few months until I could be sure you were who I was looking for. I brought your father to Hogwarts to see you, but, well, you know how well that went down. I won't waste time discussing that. What happened afterwards, though, was interesting. That greasy-haired man, Snape, I believe he was called, regained consciousness, and attempted to attack us. I disarmed him, and he fled. Dumbledore came, and helped us, along with that man Lupin, who had changed back, to the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts. We gave something of an explanation of our presence, and I learned that the girl was infected by the attack by Lupin. Shortly after the explanation, while we were arguing about what to do next, Snape barged in, along with a man calling himself Fudge, and a group of people called Aurors."

"Aurors? But why?" Harry asked.

"Snape seemed to be filled with spite about what happened. He claimed you to be a monster, a werewolf that had attacked and injured him, and that you had destroyed the Dementors. They kept talking about the Kiss or the Veil or something. Dumbledore tried to defuse the situation, but Snape attacked Hermione when she protested, calling her werewolf spawn. I cut him in half. Things got…interesting by that point. I knocked out Dumbledore so that he'd have an excuse not to fight. I'm not usually that kind, especially to someone of his fashion sense. I fought those pitiful Aurors after summoning a portal, and had Qrow take you away. Given the threats against them, I took Lupin and Hermione, while Black ran through. Once they were gone, I left, but not before sealing the portal against any pursuers."

"…You kidnapped me?"

"I _rescued_ you. The authorities of your home seemed set on executing you for the 'crime' of destroying a bunch of monsters who shouldn't exist. I doubt you could go home again."

"I could fly back, take a plane or something, wherever you've…taken…me…" Harry trailed off into silence as he looked out the window. And stared.

It was night, just as it was before. But there was something very different in the sky. The stars were in different patterns…and the moon hung overhead…shattered, partly reduced to pieces.

"You're no longer on Earth, Harry," Raven said quietly. "You're on the world where your parents were born: Remnant. As far as I understand it, Remnant is in a parallel universe to Earth. I'm sorry, Harry…but you can't go back home again."

* * *

Raven winced in pain as she walked into the room where Hermione, Ruby and Yang were talking. She didn't feel up to talking to her brother or her ex, or the werewolf and the lech. The bushy-haired Hermione looked up as Raven entered. "He didn't take it well?"

"He told me to get out of the room, and when I refused…well, his magic slammed me into the wall hard enough for it to leave a bruise, even with Aura," Raven said.

"We heard the bang," Ruby said. "We thought it was him slamming the door when he left."

Raven sat down next to her daughter, though not without a moment's hesitation. "He's got Gretchen's temper. Gretchen and her brother were not pleasant when their anger were aroused. Personally, I've done what I can for him. Qrow and Taiyang can deal with him now. I have other things to deal with."

"What things?" Yang asked. "Why did you leave us? Why did you leave Dad?"

"…Because we had differences of opinion, Yang," Raven said quietly, not wanting to go into detail about her falling out with her brother and Ozpin, of the arguments she had with Taiyang, arguments that had threatened to blow up once more when she brought them here. Yang was too young to understand it, Ruby even more so. "And at the time, I thought Summer would do a better job raising the pair of you." A half-truth. "I have duties outside of Patch. I'm sorry. Where I live, you'll be in danger from more than the Grimm, so I can't take you with me. Besides, Taiyang has done a good job of raising you both."

"But will you come back?" Yang asked.

Raven shook her head. "I can't promise that. But…you've now got a cousin. He's going to be confused and angry…but he will need your help. I've given him what help I can." She then stood. Yang got to her own feet, and Raven hugged her, a little hesitantly, but…well, she needed to make up a little for the years of her absence. "Be strong, Yang. For your father, for Ruby, and for Harry. And remember…don't take the words of Ozpin as gospel."

"Please, don't leave," Yang said quietly. But Raven gently pushed her away, and gave her a sad smile, before looking over at Ruby.

"And Ruby…you're so much like your mother." It was painful, really, to see how much of Summer was in the silver-eyed girl…so revoltingly naïve, and yet, there was something about that naïveté that was refreshing too. She reached over and ruffled the girl's dark hair, tipped with red at the fringes. "Do her proud," she said quietly, with a sentiment that she didn't quite feel.

Hermione looked morose, and Raven knew why. Earlier, the girl had begged Raven to take her back, if only to try and retrieve her parents. But Raven had told her, bluntly, that she needed to make a portal to somewhere near someone she had a connection to. A bit of a lie, but in truth, she doubted she could go back without someone she was connected to in that world.

With a nod to her daughter and stepdaughter, she left the room, only to find Qrow present. "Leaving so soon?" Qrow asked, leaning against the wall.

"The boy is awake…and annoyed. I am not in the mood to deal with teenage temper tantrums," Raven said. "I've said my piece to Yang and Ruby. I know you're going to bring him to Ozpin. Make sure that that manipulative old revenant tells him everything. Better at least he learns now what his mother died for than him learning about Salem the way we did. And make sure Ozpin understands that it's his choice to fight Salem or to stay here."

"You're not even going to try to stay? To help the kid? He's been torn away from everyone and everything he knows, pretty much," Qrow pointed out. "We did this to him."

"And I was never that good with dealing with people, brother," Raven said. "You have your son back now. Make him something to be proud of. You've done that much for Yang and Ruby, at least." With that, she formed a portal, and walked through it, back home…

* * *

Of course, things didn't really get better through that night. Harry repulsed Qrow when he tried to speak to him, and Taiyang was busy tending to Black and Lupin. Harry was angry with the Branwen siblings for taking him away from Hogwarts, and he eventually fell into an exhausted, fitful sleep, angry at the world.

He was woken, eventually, by the smell of breakfast, as the door was opened, and a pair of girls came in, followed by an anxious-looking Hermione, who seemed to have dark circles under her eyes. Harry gave his bushy-haired friend a reassuring smile, albeit a painful one. "Hey, Hermione," he said.

"Hi, Harry," Hermione said. "You feeling all right?"

"No. I'm still angry. Not at you, but at those two…I mean, Qrow and Raven," he hastily amended, looking at the two girls.

The one carrying the breakfast tray was about his age or Hermione's, maybe thirteen or fourteen, but already with a pretty well-developed figure for her age. Her face and mane of hair reminded him of Raven, though her eyes were lilac, and her hair was blonde. Her expression was also more cheerful, which already endeared her to him more than the woman who claimed to be his aunt.

The girl peering at him curiously, by contrast, was maybe eleven or twelve, with short black hair that seemed to become red at her fringes. Her eyes, wide with curiosity and a little apprehension, were silver. She reminded him a little of himself, for some reason.

"Well, introductions, then," the blonde said, with a smile, putting the tray down on Harry's lap. "The name's Yang Xiao Long. Raven's my mother, though, well, it's complicated. You're not the only one with issues about her. This here's my little sister, Ruby Rose."

On Harry's confused look, Hermione clarified, "Half-sister, Harry. Yang and Ruby share the same father, Taiyang Xiao Long, but different mothers."

"Oh," Harry said, before he smiled as reassuringly as he could at Ruby, who seemed a little nervous. "Hey."

"Hi," Ruby said. "So…you're our cousin?"

"…I guess so, if they were telling the truth," Harry said. "It's just…I'm so bloody angry."

"Hey, I don't blame you," Yang said, patting his hand. "Hermione here told us something of what happened on this other world. Unbelievable though a lot of it was, well…yeah. I can understand why you're pissed off at Uncle Qrow and my mother."

"Language!" Hermione said.

"Swear!" Ruby said almost simultaneously.

Harry chuckled a little, as he began to have his food. "So…we're on another world."

"Yes, Remnant," Hermione said. "After everyone else went to sleep, I read the books they had, an atlas and an encyclopaedia…Harry, this world is very different from ours. While magic is still a rarity, special abilities aren't. Certain people are able to manifest their soul as a protective barrier called an Aura. What's more, they can use a special, unique ability called a Semblance."

Ruby nodded eagerly. "I can go really, really fast, and Yang…any damage she takes makes her stronger. They're both very useful when you're gonna be the best Huntresses in the world!"

"…Huntresses?" Harry asked, around a mouthful of hash brown.

"Yes…Huntsmen and Huntresses are the protectors of this world, against these monsters called the Grimm," Hermione said. "They're monsters that seemingly come out of nowhere, but they're attracted to humans and civilisation…and are particularly attracted to negative emotion. Hunters go after them, clearing up any attacks by Grimm, using Dust. Dust is like a magical crystalline substance that has elemental properties. It's all very fascinating, really. They use it instead of gunpowder, fuel for airships and cars, it's key to many electronics…"

"Breathe, Hermione," Harry snarked.

"Yeah, she went blue in the face, asking all those questions last night," Yang chortled. "She's like Ruby when she geeks out over weapons."

"Yaaaang!" Ruby wailed in embarrassment, and Harry couldn't help but laugh. As much as he despised this situation, being trapped on another world, at least these two were trying to make him feel welcome. Like part of the family.

Family…when he got that letter from Lupin, he thought he knew about his family. Then again, that wasn't the last time he was proven wrong, when Hagrid turned up and tore down the lies the Dursleys told about his family…but then, he learned they weren't his blood relations at all, save by blood-adoption rituals. And yet, if what he heard was true, these two actually were family. Yang was his cousin, and Ruby her stepsister.

He just had to wonder, though, how would they react when they learned about what he did when he got angry? Of the times when he got vicious and brutal? Of the times when he became a monster?

The first time had been when they tried to save Hermione from the troll. Ron had been knocked out, and Hermione had a broken arm, and Harry…he had changed. He had caught a glimpse of himself in the mirrors, and thankfully, the transformation had dispelled before the teachers arrived…though explaining how a troll had its head torn to bloody ribbons was a saga.

How would these two feel if they knew it? Hermione knew, and she kept the secret…but how would they feel?

* * *

Just outside the house on Patch, Qrow was walking away from the house, punching a number into his Scroll, a number few would know. A priority number to the headmaster of Beacon Academy. Ozpin was going to be disappointed that he dropped an admittedly low-priority mission to check on the White Fang, but then again, considering what happened, he needed to do this. Besides, Ozpin would be better at explaining the important stuff to Harry than he was.

After the dial tone, the voice of Ozpin came through. " _Good morning, Qrow. What can I do for you?_ "

"Professor Ozpin…I'm currently at Patch. Listen…we've found something." His voice caught in his throat, before he said, "We've found Gretchen's kid. My kid. He's still alive."

After a pause, Ozpin said, "… _I presume there's more to this story than just finding Gretchen's child, and yours, as wonderful news as that is._ "

"There is. Firstly, he has the Silver Eyes, or can at least manifest the ability. And secondly…I think Salem experimented on him while he was in the womb. He's able to become part-Grimm." He then told him, in brief, what happened.

"… _I see. I'll be on the next Bullhead I can wrangle to Patch. I could do with a break from paperwork, after all_ …"

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry's struggling to cope with coming to another world, Yang and Ruby get to know their cousin, and the Wizard of Oz is off to see the Wizard of England.**

 **I summarised what happened before the escape because, frankly, I couldn't be arsed writing it out, and wanted to get to Remnant. Don't worry, Hermione's parents won't be left in the lurch. We'll use Fawkes to do some transdimensional ferrying of people and letters later.**

 **Now, Harry's going to be in a bit of a mood with Raven and Qrow, and considering they all but kidnapped him, that's not surprising. He'll bond much more easily with Ruby and Yang, as you saw, and with Taiyang.**

 **Lupin was found and taken back to Hogwarts by Dumbledore, where he reverted to human, in case you're wondering.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	140. Hollow Heroes Chapter 1

**When I publish my 100th story, I wanted to make it a special one. I wanted to do it as a Potterverse crossover with either _Final Fantasy VII_ (in honour of my first fanfic published here, _Harry Potter and the Cetra Heritage_ ), or the _Final Fantasy_ webcomic _8-Bit Theater_ (which is still on the cards, by the way). But then, inspiration struck. I am yet to really do a _Kingdom Hearts_ fic in any way, so it was about time I did so. Hopefully, this will get enough chapters written so I can publish it as my 100th story.**

 **This is actually not my first attempt at a Potterverse/ _Kingdom Hearts_ story, but my first attempt didn't make it beyond the first chapter, and by the time I considered doing it, sakurademonalchemist came out with _Memories of Nobody_. Plus, there's trying to do something moderately novel. Eventually, I decided, what the hell, and wrote this up. The original story had Harry, Hermione, the Weasley Twins, Luna, and a couple of others shoved through the Veil, becoming Nobodies and ending up eventually working with DiZ. That...didn't go too well. This story focuses more on Harry doing impossible things because, well, he's Harry Potter. Which means that a few of your favourite Nobodies don't suffer the same fate they did in canon.**

 **Plus, this story is Harry/Yuffie. That was the pairing I intended for my _Final Fantasy VII_ crossover, before I decided I had done that too many times before...**

 **Enjoy...**

* * *

 _ **HOLLOW HEROES**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **THE NOBODY WHO LIVED**

 _He remembered the battle mostly within his nightmares now. Of spells whizzing past him, of his friends being attacked. Of his godfather being hit by a curse from his godfather's deranged cousin, stumbling towards an archway. He managed to break free from the werewolf's grasp, and save his godfather…but at the cost of falling through the archway, through the Veil, himself._

 _The last thing he remembered of that time with any great clarity was the screams of his allies, screaming out his name, and the high cackling of the deranged witch. Then, a great pain in his chest, like something being torn out. It left an icy cold in its wake._

 _Then, oblivion._

 _He woke up standing on a mysterious stained glass image, showing himself, his friends and enemies, a mysterious, deep voice guiding him through a new life. Then, as if from a dream, he woke up…_

* * *

 _"Oh, he's waking up!" The voice of a woman, not much older than he was._

 _"Be careful, Aerith. Merlin says he's a Nobody, like those creeps the King warned us about." The gruff voice of an older, middle-aged man._

 _"Even if he wasn't a Nobody, he's an interloper here." A younger man's voice, somewhat cold and clinical._

 _"And he practically fell out of the sky onto me!" This was a girl about his age._

 _"Which means we need to be cautious, if nothing else," the younger man was saying, as the teenager opened his eyes, and saw who was speaking, a brown-haired young man with a handsome, if rather stoic, features, a scar running across his face. He seemed to be in some sort of house, with magical paraphernalia on one side, and on the other, what looked like a massive computer terminal. So, not Hogwarts or the Ministry…though his memories of those were admittedly a little hazy._

 _"Leon, he isn't even wearing a dark hoodie like the Organization does," the older girl, who had brown hair, gentle and demure features, and stunning green eyes, so much like his own, pointed out, though the teenager was a bit baffled as to what she meant._

 _"That means little," the scarred young man called Leon said._

 _"Excuse me, but isn't it rude to talk about someone while they're right here?" the teenager asked, rubbing his head, and wondering why his scar felt so sore, like it was bruised. "Anyway, who are you guys, and where am I?"_

 _The quartet looked at each other, before finally, Leon shrugged. "I am Leon. This is Aerith Gainsborough, that is Cid Highwind, and that is Yuffie Kisaragi." Leon indicated the brown-haired young woman, the older man, and then the girl about his age, who had short dark hair, and Asiatic-looking features, on which a cocky-looking smirk was plastered, respectively. "We comprise most of the Hollow Bastion Restoration Committee."_

 _"Hollow Bastion? Where is that? Britain? America? You sound American," the teenager said._

 _After a moment, Cid pinched the bridge of his nose. "Damn. Well, we know one thing. He's definitely not from this world. Merlin's yammered on about how he helped teach and advise the King of Britain."_

 _The teenager frowned. "Wait, Merlin? But Merlin died years ago! I mean…"_

 _"Rumours of my death, my dear boy, have been greatly exaggerated," came an ancient voice, and someone who looked too much like Dumbledore, albeit in far less eye-gouging robes, walked in. Long white beard, sky blue robes, dotty and eccentric-looking…yeah, too much of a resemblance for his liking. "Still, I have to say, it's rare that someone from Lost Avalon(_ _1)_ _ends up in another world, given that the Keyhole there should be firmly shut." He moved close, and peered into the teenager's eyes. "Though I do keep an eye on events there. Dear oh dear, this is troublesome. I know who you are…and you have my sympathies for being roped into becoming their saviour."_

 _"You know this guy, Merlin?" Yuffie asked._

 _"Indeed I do. His name is…"_

* * *

"…M-I-C, K-E-Y, M-O-U-S-E(2)!"

"Please stop that," the diminutive, big-eared figure in the dark hooded coat next to him said with a wince in his falsetto voice as they walked through the main railway station of Twilight Town. "Leaving aside the fact that I'm meant to be incognito, that song has gotten annoying the more times you sing it."

"Hey, in the unlikely event that I ever meet anyone from home, who would believe that I have trolled Mickey Mouse himself, huh? Anyway, blame Walt Disney for the Mouseketeers. Seriously, Merlin's explanation as to how Disney came to be…if I hear terms like 'recursive memetic resonance' and 'the Universal Egregore' once more, I will shave his beard off. Again."

"I once tried doing that to Master Yen Sid," Mickey Mouse remarked wistfully, before chuckling. "It did not end well."

"I'm sure it didn't. Still, at least Yen Sid and Merlin aren't as stubborn about Nobodies as DiZ was," the green-eyed teenager remarked, before adopting as deep a voice as he could, mocking with a bitter tone. " _Nobodies do not have a right to know, nor do they have a right to_ _ **be**_ _._ " Scoffing quietly, he muttered, "Wanker. Ansem the Wise my arse."

"Mind your language," Mickey chided gently. "But you are right…my old friend has fallen far, thanks to the betrayal of Xehanort and his apprentices. If he had stayed around after you rescued the others, I would be having words with him."

"So would I," said a third member of their party, a boy with light brown, spiky hair, and deep blue eyes. A scowl marred his features.

"We all have our issues with DiZ," a blonde-haired, rather waif-like girl said. "Well, save for Xion."

The fifth member of their party, a dark-haired girl, looked down ruefully at her own clothes. "I'm not sure how I even exist anymore. Not that I'm complaining."

"Don't ask me, Xion," the green-eyed teen said. "I'm sure Hermione would know…" Then, his face fell. "If she's still even…"

"Your friend will still be alive," Mickey said, with a gentle tone that was nonetheless filled with utter conviction, and the green-eyed teen was reminded of why Mickey Mouse, contrary to what he usually was in the cartoons Disney pumped out, was both a leader and a warrior. "All your friends will be."

That was a pretty empty platitude, but the green-eyed teenager liked Mickey Mouse more than the other mentor figures he had in his life, so he didn't comment on it, any further than a disgruntled huff. At least Mickey Mouse cared. And he wouldn't ask his subordinates to do something he wouldn't do himself, like get his hands dirty, even if it was mostly towards Heartless and Nobodies.

"In any case," Mickey said, "we need to send Sora, Donald, and Goofy to Master Yen Sid's tower via the special train. With them just awoken…"

"I'm glad it's finally over," the blonde girl said quietly. "My debt to Sora is now paid."

"Organization XIII took advantage of you, Naminé," Mickey declared. "You desired a connection to others, and they exploited that. What you did was wrong, but that you recognise it and attempt to redeem yourself for it goes a long way."

"I know, it's just…" Naminé's eyes widened. "Nobodies, a swarm of them outside the station! And Sora and the others are being attacked!"

"Right. Xion, look after Naminé!" the green-eyed teenager barked. Then, he, along with the brown-haired boy and Mickey, sped out of the station…

* * *

Sora grimaced as exhaustion took its toll. These weird things in silver bodysuits (or were they the actual bodies of the creatures?) were dancing around him, Donald, and Goofy, moving in weird, unpredictable ways, their humanoid bodies warping and stretching in an unnatural manner. There were so many of them, he and his friends were being overwhelmed.

It was partly being asleep for a whole year that did it, he reckoned. He didn't know why, or how he ended up in that weird pod underneath the abandoned mansion. A mansion on the outskirts of a place called Twilight Town. And it was weird, the sense of déjà vu he had felt on emerging, to find that he had grown, that his voice was breaking. And the only clue was a mysterious note Jiminy Cricket couldn't remember writing in his journal: _Thank Naminé_.

The King had been spotted, searching for Sora, though Pence and Olette, the two kids their age they had met (a third, Hayner, had gone off in a sullen huff, for them intruding on their 'secret spot'), had told them that four others accompanied the King. None matched the descriptions of Riku. One seemed to sound a bit like Kairi, but why would she be accompanying King Mickey?

As the creatures closed in, Sora raised his Keyblade, ready to defend himself against the inevitable onslaught, only for a trio of figures to burst out of the train station they were fighting in, all dressed in dark, hooded cloaks. One was short, diminutive, with the distinctive large round ears Sora had glimpsed what felt like a fresh memory, and yet also felt like an eternity ago. The other two were…odd.

One of them seemed vaguely familiar, with the light brown hair and the deep blue eyes, fighting determinedly, using two Keyblades, of all things! One light, the other dark. The other had a messy thatch of black hair with a white streak through it, emerald eyes flashing behind glasses, a year or so older than Sora. A faded scar snaked its way from beneath his fringe, like a lightning bolt. He raised his Keyblade and snarled, "REDUCTO!" A jet of light smashed into one of the creatures, and punched a hole through it, causing it to dissipate. The Keyblade was red and gold in colour, with a feather-shaped part protruding from the blade.

Between the three newcomers, they decimated the remaining creatures fairly quickly. "The Organization is moving fast," the dark-haired teenager remarked, as he cast healing magic at Sora, Donald, and Goofy, handing the belligerent duck mage an Ether to replenish his MP. "They sent these Dusks and Creepers to attack them, hoping to catch them off-guard while they were still recovering from their little nap. What do you reckon, Roxas?"

"They're testing Sora," the brown-haired boy said. "If they really wanted him dead that badly, they'd send higher-level Nobodies. Or send one of the Organization proper."

"We're running out of time," King Mickey said, before he looked over to Sora, Donald, and Goofy. "Guys, I know you're pleased to see me, and you have a lot of questions, but time's of the essence. You've gotta board the train and leave town. It knows the way. These two will help you, as will the girls." He then chucked a pouch to Sora, who caught it.

"Hey, isn't that…?!" the brown-haired boy yelped.

"Yeah, that's the one the emo nicked off you, Roxas," the dark-haired boy said. "Mickey, you've got my number. Call if something goes wrong."

Mickey nodded, and then said to the others, "See ya!" He then hurried away.

"But Your Majesty…!" Donald complained in his raspy voice.

"Hey, he's doing some stuff of his own," the dark-haired teenager said. "Official King Mickey business. Look, there's a lot to take in, I understand that. But we're on the clock. The train is taking you to the tower of Yen Sid, but we'll be briefing you along the way. It's a very long story, even abridged. And for what it's worth, Sora, you have my sympathies. I know what it's like to be dropped in the deep end, left to sink or swim."

Sora, after a moment, looked at Donald and Goofy. "Can we trust these guys?" he asked.

"Well, the King was with 'em," Goofy mused. "And Master Yen Sid was the tutor of the King."

"Yeah, but those outfits look suspicious," Donald grumbled.

"Not surprising," the dark-haired teen remarked. "Leaving aside the colour scheme, there really are some rather nasty guys going around wearing these coats. They're a bit of a necessary evil when you're in realms of darkness for a while. And if you had all your memories, well, let's just say you'd find it harder to trust us. You haven't actually met Roxas and I before, though you've met one of our number, Naminé. Not that you'd remember her."

"Naminé?" Sora asked. "Jiminy said there was a message in his journal to thank Naminé."

"Yeah. It's a long story, like I said, and we don't have much time. Our other party member is Xion. Xion, Roxas, and Naminé all have a connection to you, Sora."

"And what about you?" Donald asked querulously. "Who are you?"

"I was…well, I am a wizard from another world. What's left of him, anyway. I doubt you've been to my world. Merlin called it Lost Avalon. And I doubt you know my name. Unlike most Nobodies, I'm not doing the whole 'anagram plus an X' thing they seem to be doing. I think that's what Yuffie calls a ' _chunibyou_ ' phase, really(3). My name's Harry Potter. And it's good to meet you three at long last…"

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry's a Nobody, and for some reason, Roxas, Xion and Naminé are accompanying him. So, what does this mean for the Boy Who Lived?**

 **1\. This is what sakurademonalchemist called the Potterverse in her story** ** _Memories of Nobody_** **.**

 **2\. Harry is, of course, singing the Mickey Mouse Club March. To troll Mickey Mouse.**

 **3\. A** ** _chunibyou_** **(well, properly transliterated to** ** _chuunibyou_** **) is basically, well, an overly dramatic adolescent phase, or something like it (as it can be said to affect adults). Basically, being pretentious and dark, thinking one is cool.**


	141. Hollow Heroes Chapter 2

**I'm gratified at the response this has gotten. It'll be a while before it's published (assuming it gets that far), but it's looking pretty good.**

 **Anyway, before we get onto the next chapter, I'd like to say that I've posted a new poll on my profile. Once more, it's one trying to see which franchise people would like to see me do a fic for next, either pure or crossover. While the winner won't necessarily be the one that gets it, it'll help me determine which franchises are more popular. It's also worth pointing out that there's nearly 40 options to vote for, and you can vote up to four times. So...go nuts. But vote on the profile, and don't bother telling me what you voted for in reviews, okay?**

 **Anyway, enjoy.**

* * *

 _ **HOLLOW HEROES**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **TWO DIFFERENT CHOSEN ONES**

Sora stared at Harry, who was sitting across from him as they travelled on the train out of Twilight Town. "Let me get this straight. You guys are all what they call Nobodies, beings without a Heart, but you're on our side, and three of you can wield Keyblades. Some Nobodies, part of this Organization XIII, trapped me in a castle, tampered with my memories with Naminé's help, and when they were defeated, Naminé wanted to restore our memories back to the way they were."

Harry nodded. "That's about the size of it."

"You made the choice to discard your memories of what happened in Castle Oblivion, to retain your old memories," Naminé said quietly.

"And you're a Nobody of Kairi?" Sora asked. And then he pointed to Roxas and Xion. "And you're my Nobodies?"

Roxas nodded wearily. "It's a very long and complicated story. I wouldn't even be here as my own person if it weren't for Harry. Same for Xion. We'll probably have to go our separate ways after we return to Hollow Bastion. Organization XIII will be trying to eliminate both of us. I'm a traitor to them, and Xion outlived her usefulness."

"Gawrsh, it's very tricky. And I didn't even think that the Ansem we met had stolen the name of the real Ansem!" Goofy remarked.

"The real Ansem is only our ally insomuch as he wants to see the Organization taken down," Harry said. "But he wants to destroy all Nobodies. Guilt by association, mixed in with revulsion at our very existence. He doesn't even want to believe that we can regain our Hearts, after a fashion. It took a while for the guys at Hollow Bastion to get used to me, never mind Yen Sid, but DiZ, he's so rabidly anti-Nobody…he wanted Naminé dead once her use was ended."

"And Riku?" Sora asked.

"He's against Organization XIII, not Nobodies," Harry said. "He's still alive, but he's working with the King behind the scenes. He made Mickey promise to not tell you what happened to him. Let's just say he looks different. Very different. He was in Castle Oblivion at the same time as you, apparently, and things went wrong. Anyway, Roxas, while he knows the identities of the members of Organization XIII, doesn't know what their plans are."

"About that, how did Roxas survive when his memories were grafted back onto Sora?" Donald asked.

"I don't know, exactly," Harry said, summoning his Keyblade to his hand. "But my Keyblade, Phoenix Rebirth, might have had something to do with it. All I know is, Roxas and Xion, for now at least, effectively count as familiars to me, my magic is keeping them in existence, a bit like the summon magic of these worlds. So does Naminé, but she doesn't need as strong an anchor to keep her in existence. Just enough so that, once we see Kairi, she doesn't merge with her. Anyway, I'm not complaining about a best case scenario happening. Or at least close enough."

"Are you gonna be helpin' us on our journey?" Goofy asked.

"Not directly. Once we're back at Hollow Bastion and I've left Naminé in the care of Leon and the others, Roxas, Xion and I are going to take the fight to Organization XIII. While going into the World that Never Was will be risky, there are other places affected by the Organization. Your task is to concentrate on the Heartless incursions, while we're dealing with whatever Organization XIII is cooking up, as well as investigating the labs Ansem the Wise used, seeing if there's any useful data he left behind, or his impostor. We'll probably encounter each other a few times, though."

Roxas nodded. "Our first port of call is to the Beast's Castle. I know Xaldin had plans involving the Beast."

Sora shook his head. "This is a lot to take in. And you said you were famous on your own world? What was that like?"

"Like shit," Harry said bluntly. "Imagine only learning you're famous at the age of eleven, and having people turn on you just as much as they'd want to praise you. And having no parents. I mean, I'd go back if I can, but…only long enough to stop Voldemort…"

* * *

Not long afterwards, they ended up at Yen Sid's tower. To their shock, one of Maleficent's minions, Pete, was there. They disposed of the Heartless Pete summoned, and then, entered the tower, going up.

They eventually reached the top of the tower, and found themselves in the presence of Yen Sid. Harry remembered this wizened old wizard as being the one from _The Sorcerer's Apprentice_ segment of _Fantasia_. Yen Sid had taken time to warm up to Harry, what with Harry being a Nobody, but he came round in time.

After briefing Sora, Donald, and Goofy on what Harry and the others hadn't covered, he sent them through to another room, to get new clothes. Harry knew that the fairy godmothers from _Sleeping Beauty_ were there. He then turned his attention to Harry. "What am I to do with you?" he remarked. "You go to Twilight Town to find out what this DiZ is up to, only to come back with three more Nobodies, including two ex-members of Organization XIII."

"DiZ was going to force the erasure of Roxas, and ordered Naminé's execution," Harry said. "Xion coming back into existence was a happy accident. I'm not sure what happened, only that my Keyblade and my magic were involved."

Yen Sid nodded sagely, even as they heard the fairies bickering in the other room. "As I discussed with you before, I have heard rumours that each of the members of Organization XIII have an attribute, an element if you will, attached to them. With Roxas here, I can tell his element is Light. Yours, Harry, appears to be Life/Death, symbolised by the Phoenix Rebirth Keyblade, the one that formed from your former wand. You have given life to these Nobodies beyond when their time was due to pass. Not quite resurrection, but rather, a sustainment. Still, the fact remains that Organization XIII will be tracking down Roxas to eliminate him, and I doubt that Xion or Naminé are free from danger."

"I've agreed to stay at Hollow Bastion once we reach there," Naminé said. "My abilities in combat are close to nothing. My power is through changing the links of memories."

"It's still a potent power, especially if not confined to Sora," Yen Sid said. "Roxas, Xion, are you willing to face your former allies?"

"They're no allies of mine," Roxas said grimly. "I'd try to get Axel to our side, and maybe Demyx, but everyone else, well…"

Naminé nodded. "Of the thirteen members, five of them are dead: Number 4, Vexen, Number 5, Lexaeus, Number 6, Zexion, Number 11, Marluxia, and Number 12, Larxene. That means there are seven left, not counting Roxas. Or Xion."

"And you do not know of the Organization's main plan?" Yen Sid asked Roxas.

"Only that it involves Sora, the Keyblade, and Kingdom Hearts," Roxas said. "I was pretty low on the pecking order in Organization XIII."

"Indeed." Yen Sid smiled sadly. "Did my former student ever tell you you resembled someone I've met?"

"Yes, he said something about me looking like someone called Ventus," Roxas said.

"Indeed. Ventus was the ward and student of Master Eraqus, one of the finest Keyblade Masters to ever live, even if he was somewhat quixotic, and obsessed with darkness needing to be eradicated. It is true that the darkness is harmful, but to completely eliminate darkness is to eliminate the light as well. Ventus…lost his Heart after a gruelling battle. Eraqus himself perished not long beforehand, and his students have all disappeared too."

"Mickey said he met Aqua while travelling through the Realms of Darkness," Harry said. "She saved him and Riku from a bunch of ornery Heartless."

"Then that is some good news, at least," Yen Sid said. "I feared the worst when Aqua disappeared..."

* * *

Not long afterwards, Sora emerged. Harry had to admit, his new outfit was pretty snazzy, even if it had way too many belts and buckles. Then again, that seemed to be the norm in this universe he had ended up in.

Yen Sid gestured them over, and pointed out the window. The distinctive colourful blocky shape of a Gummi Ship rose up nearby. He then explained how Sora, Donald and Goofy would be able to travel between worlds.

"Hang on a moment," Goofy mused, tapping the side of his head. "The Gummi Ship held the three of us no problem. But what about Harry, Roxas, Naminé, and Xion?"

"Nobodies can utilise Corridors of Darkness with ease," Harry said. "Well, with relative ease. Mickey and Riku know how to use them, but they're dangerous. Nobodies have less of a problem usually, but we wear these coats to protect us from the worst effects of the darkness within these corridors."

"And Naminé?" Sora asked.

"I'll be fine," Naminé said with a smile. "I'm only making the one trip with them…"

* * *

The trip through the Corridor of Darkness was, thankfully, uneventful, though Harry, Roxas, and Xion made sure they kept Naminé between the three of them. Harry had passed through the Corridors of Darkness enough times to know that Heartless and Nobodies had a tendency to attack. And that was without going into the corrosive nature of the darkness within these domains.

Harry had travelled these realms more than a few times. It had become, rather disturbingly, second-nature to him. Then again, becoming a Nobody meant he was caught between the darkness and the light. A twilight existence where he was a hollow man, stuffed with straw. Ironic that a Heartless was actually a Heart, consumed by darkness and malevolence, while a Nobody had a body, but no Heart.

It was even more of a surprise when his emotions seemed to come back to him…and naturally, at that. It felt less like he was imitating emotions, and more like he was expressing them again.

Of course, with that came the guilt. It had been several months since he fell through the Veil, and Merlin had been unable to witness more than fragments of events back home (this had been a problem since a number of his magical items had been stolen by Heartless years ago). Merlin had no idea of how the war against Voldemort was going, and they had no idea how Harry could get back. The Keyhole for Lost Avalon had been locked long ago, with Heartless incursions rare on that world. But it meant he had no way of knowing what had happened to the Weasleys, Hermione, Luna, Sirius and Remus, Tonks, Neville and his other friends and allies. The last time he saw Ron, he was being molested by those weird brain things, and Hermione had gone down with a curse to her torso.

It had taken the cavalry long enough to get there. Snape must have taken his sweet time. But the anger he felt towards Snape and Umbridge (and Dumbledore, for that matter, for being at his most ineffectual that year) was almost matched by Harry's own guilt and self-reproach. He should have realised that it was a trap, one he had waltzed right into.

Still, there had been plenty who helped him work through the pain and misery as he regained his memories. The Hollow Bastion Restoration Committee were his key helpers in that regard. Well, Cid was a bit gruff, and Leon, whose real name was apparently Squall, was a bit hands-off, even if he was genuinely compassionate. And there was the somewhat sparing sympathy of Cloud Strife, an acquaintance of theirs who was something of a loner, obsessed with his own inner darkness. Merlin and Aerith helped counsel Harry more, Merlin drawing on his experience of counselling people like King Arthur, while Aerith just had a generally kind nature.

Probably one of his biggest helps, though, was Yuffie. After a rocky beginning, the two developed a friendship of sorts, initially based around mutual snark, but eventually growing into something more. Yuffie reminded him a little of Ginny, albeit without the fangirl tendencies. She had the same spunk and fire, though she also liked to refer to herself as 'the Great Ninja Yuffie'. Then, a couple of months ago, they started dating, going out for dinner, walking around Hollow Bastion, and killing Heartless that decided to play gooseberry.

Still, it was interesting having a ninja as a girlfriend. And they had admitted recently that they actually were boyfriend and girlfriend. Aerith had been ecstatic, while Leon and Cid had taken Harry aside and threatened him with a shallow grave if he ever hurt Yuffie. Leon effectively was her adoptive big brother, and Cid her adoptive father, when they all fled Hollow Bastion for Traverse Town years ago.

As he exited the Corridor of Darkness, Harry found Cid typing at his computer terminal, while Aerith and Leon looked on. "Hey," Harry called out. "Where's Yuffie?"

"She's out on patrol. There's increased Heartless activity throughout the town. It's been setting off the automated defence systems," Leon said, looking over to them, and noting the new arrivals. "Care to explain these three?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Long story. Short version? Sora's awake. And Roxas and Xion are basically his Nobodies. Naminé is Kairi's. It's a very long story, but Mickey and Yen Sid have vouched for them. Roxas and Xion are defectors from Organization XIII. Anyway, Sora, Donald and Goofy should be here soon by Gummi Ship. Any luck on accessing Ansem's lab?"

"Workin' on it," Cid said. "Ansem was pretty paranoid, locking everything up. Even a Keyblade can't unlock it, and that's pretty impressive. And annoying. It'll take a week longer. Maybe less if we're lucky."

"I ran into the real Ansem, not that impostor Sora defeated," Harry said. "He's fallen pretty far."

"Sounds like quite the story," Leon said. "I'll want to hear it later."

"What actually happened to Ansem?" Aerith asked.

"He hates Nobodies," Roxas said with a shrug. "Even if they don't want anything to do with Organization XIII."

"Anyway, we were going to leave Naminé here for safekeeping, and then head out to try and find out more about the activities of Organization XIII," Harry said. Then, a smirk touched his lips. "And trolling them. I nearly got caught the last time I was in the World that Never Was, but it was worth it."

"…Wait…were you the one who knocked out Saïx, glued werewolf prosthetics to his face, and left…some sort of medicine by his bedside?"

Xion snickered. "It was medicine for relieving _period pain_ , Roxas."

Aerith looked at Harry, raising an eyebrow, and looking torn between laughing and being put off. Aerith, for all her demure nature, had an impish streak a mile wide. "Rather crude of you, Harry, even by your standards."

"Hey, that idiot pissed me off by harassing me, trying to conscript me into Organization XIII while I was trying to have a date with Yuffie on the beach near Twilight Town," Harry said. "I told him to put that damned war hammer where the sun didn't shine, and he took issue with that." His smirk widened into a vicious grin. "Say what you like about the spells of my world, with the mangled Latin, but he wasn't expecting a quick Apparition and a Stunner. I used a Memory Charm or two as well, to make him forget about coming after me, given how he threatened Yuffie. I wish I used more, so he forgot other things. Like his toilet training."

"And what you did to DiZ?" Naminé asked, a wry smirk touching her own features.

"Hey, he sounded like Christopher Lee, he deserves looking like some ripoff of Dracula," Harry snarked(1). "And to have bowel troubles for the next couple of weeks. Given that he tried to kill you and Roxas, and seemed to consider doing so to me, despite my being Mickey's ally, it's more than he deserved. I only went easy on him to teach him a lesson, and because he was once Mickey's friend. Next time, I'm dragging him through that Corridor of Darkness Cloud showed me to Olympus Colosseum, and having him do the Phil Workout Special(2). And THAT'S if I'm feeling merciful. Speaking of which, Hades is well overdue for having another bucket of ice water poured over that burning scalp of his."

"Didn't you say your school motto translates to 'never tickle a sleeping dragon'?" Leon asked.

"I've never been one to take good advice," Harry remarked.

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry and the others have filled in Sora, Donald and Goofy, and are back in Hollow Bastion.**

 **1\. Considering that the late, great Christopher Lee did voice DiZ in** ** _Kingdom Hearts II_** **and** ** _358/2 Days_** **, I thought I'd make a reference to that.**

 **2\. Something Aqua and Xion/Tania did to many students, especially Ron Weasley, in sakurademonalchemist's** ** _Memories of Nobody_** **.**


	142. Freelancer, Medic, Mage Chapter 1

**So, this is an idea that I've been kicking around for some months now. You see, there seems to be a distinct lack of crossovers between the Potterverse and _Red vs Blue_. I've already made one sojourn into the latter with an _Overlord_ crossover, _Xenagogy for Belligerent AIs and Dungeon Denizens_ , where Church (the Alpha) takes the place of Momonga, but this will be my first Potterverse crossover, based to quite a degree on my 'Church's Child' challenge, whereby Harry, having made his way to the _Red vs Blue_ universe as a pre-Hogwarts kid, ends up being adopted by the Churchs. Be warned that, while he isn't actually related to Carolina, she was, for a time, his sister by adoption, and they entered into a romantic relationship after the Director revealed Harry's adoption in a pretty dickish way, so if any kind of incest makes you feel uncomfortable, even between non-related siblings, then this isn't the story for you, as Harry and Carolina will be paired. I'm also taking some elements from _Under the Light of the Shattered Moon_ (namely, the post-Tri-Wizard Tournament setting) and _Harry Potter and the Blue-Haired Angel_ (the flashbacks taking place at the beginning of each chapter).  
**

 **The second chapter will probably be posted in the next big update, alongside, amongst other things, _Hollow Heroes_ , later in April. And no, this isn't an April Fool's joke.**

 **Enjoy...**

* * *

 _ **FREELANCER, MEDIC, MAGE**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **CAROLINA AND VIRGINIA**

 _The tension in the bedroom was palpable. The red-haired young woman in the cyan armour, now stripping it down to a figure-hugging undersuit, had a stormy expression on her face, her green eyes simmering with fury. She tried, unsuccessfully, to calm herself down. Here she was, in an unfamiliar situation, far from home, abducted by idiots, and forced to stay here. She wanted to punch or shoot someone so bad, it wasn't funny._

 _Soon, though, the anger sublimated into sorrow, and her eyes glistened. So caught up in her thoughts was she, that she barely heard her comrade and lover step out of the bathroom. "The shower's free, Carrie."_

 _She barely responded, so he sat down next to her, only a towel around his waist. There had been times when she shrugged off the arm around her shoulder from him, with varying degrees of aggression. But she didn't refuse the gesture now. She leaned into him, in fact. "Virg…how the hell are we going to get back home?" she asked quietly._

 _"I dunno, Carrie. And we're stuck here. Well, I'm stuck here, according to those idiots," he said. "If there was a means to send you back, I'd do it in a shot."_

 _"I'm not leaving you behind, Virg. I know, I know, lately, I've been…distant, thanks to_ _ **her**_ _. But…after what you took from Price's head…Jesus, what the fuck is our father doing?!"_

 _"He's not our father, Carrie. He adopted me, remember? And he's little more than a sperm donor for you. Should've confronted him earlier. I'm more worried about the Alpha, and the others. Wash, Maine, York, the twins…hell, even Connie and Tex are victims."_

 _"Yeah. Still slugging Tex in the face if we ever see her again," the woman said. "And that's a big if. Seriously, what the hell are we doing back in the late 20_ _th_ _Century?! And what's with these idiots in robes? I mean, I knew you had abilities, but we just thought you were some esper or something. Wizards…" She spat out the last word like it was a curse. "And that old fool with the beard…I want to shoot him."_

 _"Get in line. After he confessed he left me with those…people…I'm glad I barely remember them. But I remember the cupboard. I'll never forget that."_

 _After a moment, the redhaired woman stood, beginning to strip off her undersuit. "I'm going to need a long shower. I want you with me tonight. Please, stay with me."_

 _"As always, Carolina…as always…"_

* * *

Aiden Price was not exactly a man troubled by qualms or conscience. He was a calm, collected, stoic man. But he was also a cautious one, and this was part of the discontent he had with his boss, Director Leonard Church of Project Freelancer. Most of Project Freelancer had imploded, with two of its best agents going AWOL shortly after the execution of CT (formerly known as Agent Connecticut), and then some attempting to break out the Alpha AI, led by Agent Tex. Price placed the blame on Church's reckless desire to recreate his dead wife, as well as trying to create an elite group of soldiers he could use as his own private army.

Admittedly, Charon Industries needed to be stopped. Unbeknownst to the public and most of the UNSC, it was being run by Malcolm Hargrove, a man with enough influence to prevent any accusations from being applied to him. But the Director had made Hargrove into his personal nemesis, and used Project Freelancer recklessly to try and undermine Hargrove. The Director would even go as far as to use his own children, Agent Carolina and Agent Virginia. Virginia was an adopted child, found by the Church family a couple of years before Allison Church died fighting the Covenant. Indeed, Price had been tasked to confront the two over them being lovers, despite the fact that they weren't genetically related.

After Project Freelancer mostly imploded, Price stayed on as counsellor, particularly for the Recovery section. Agent Washington was being sent back into the field, mostly to try and find the deranged Meta, formerly Agent Maine. Price's loyalty to the Director was on the wane, admittedly for more pragmatic reasons than anything else: Hargrove was itching for an excuse to arrest everyone associated with Project Freelancer, or at least those high up in the organisation, even if the AWOL agents were being made scapegoats.

And now, Hargrove was beginning to breathe down the Director's neck. The catalyst had been the attack on the sim-trooper outpost at Valhalla, an attack that started with a crash of a spaceship, one they believed to be Agent Texas' ship, the one marked as destroyed after those incidents at the Blood Gulch outpost. Given the initial, albeit fragmented reports, Price suspected Omega was to blame for part of the damage, and the Meta swooped in like a vulture afterwards. After thwarting the former Agent Maine from retrieving any AIs since Agent Texas' attempt to retrieve the Alpha, they had managed to keep the Meta from obtaining any more…until now.

The three surviving members of Recovery's Freelancers were watching as the sole survivor of the outpost gave his report. He could tell South Dakota was barely restraining herself from interjecting. Her loyalties were the most in question, but the disappearance of Virginia and Carolina seemed to get her to stay loyal. She had Delta, though their partnership was shaky, to say the least.

Her twin brother, North Dakota, was more of a stabilising influence on her, thank whatever deity existed. He was certainly the most loyal of the Recovery Freelancers, though given his assistance of Texas during her attempt to free the Alpha, there was still a question mark next to said loyalties.

And then, finally, Washington. He of the failed Epsilon transplant. Professional, but cagey about anything to do with his experiences with Epsilon, and refusing another AI. Not that they could have, but Washington needed to be watched.

Price frowned when Henderson said something, something that gained not only his attention, but also that of the three Freelancers. "I beg your pardon, Walter, but would you kindly repeat that?"

"Well, we witnessed two people…seemingly in the same getup as those three. One was in cyan, a mixture of Rogue and Recon armour, and the other seemed to be in white modified Hayabusa armour with red parts. They took the body from the Blue's base, and vanished, though not before the one in white healed the Blues of their injuries."

"It's _them_ ," growled South.

As Henderson turned to look at them, Price said, "Please pay Agent South Dakota no attention, Walter. Are there any further details you can furnish us with regarding those two?"

"Not really. We found later a couple of our guys who had been injured pretty badly had been healed overnight, and a sticky note had been left on them saying 'You're Welcome', as well as a warning to disable our radios. They seemed to vanish. And then, well, shortly afterwards, that's when IT came…"

The rest of the questioning went on, before Henderson was led away. Price fought the urge to rub his head. It seemed that Agent Virginia and Agent Carolina were back. And given that they had been declared AWOL, and made as scapegoats for the worst of what happened at Project Freelancer, along with CT, they would not be happy, to say the least.

After Henderson finished, and was escorted away, pending whether Director Church would send him off with a generous pension, incarcerate him, or imprison him, Price turned his attention to the Freelancers. "So, what do you make of all this?"

It was North who spoke first. "It sounds like what we encountered. That…thing that used to be Agent Maine. It's probably looted other Freelancer caches, given how they spoke of it having cloaking capabilities. The Meta probably just needed more AIs to run it. And given the report about how Gamma and Omega were on the ship with Agent Texas…"

"Shit, so the Meta now has five AIs," growled South. "Sigma, Eta, Iota, Gamma and Omega…and it was Omega doing all the body-hopping driving these mooks nuts."

"South," Washington said, his voice firmly rebuking her. "Sim-troopers or not, they deserve a little more respect."

"Bite me, Wash," South retorted.

"I presume the prospect of facing the Meta again concerns you all?" Price asked.

"I think I can safely speak for all of us when I say it doesn't make me excited," Washington said.

"You got that right," South grumbled. "And what about those two the mook spotted? That has to be Carolina and the Virgin."

"While we cannot confirm that for certain, there have been a spate of sightings of Agents Carolina and Virginia in the past few weeks," Price said. "Agent North, Agent South, I will assign you to try and track down the rogue agents. They are to be brought into custody, both alive for preference, along with the body of Agent Texas." He shot South a particularly strong look. "As for you, Agent Washington, I think you should start by going back over the trail of Omega. There are a number of soldiers from Blood Gulch who have considerable experience with it."

"I see. So, I should contact these experts…"

"We do not like the term… _experts_ ," Price intervened.

South snorted. "They're sim-troopers, right? I heard Blood Gulch was where they posted some of the more idiotic ones. So calling them 'experts' is too nice."

Price shot South another glare, before saying, "Agent South is correct, albeit in her usual crude, unrefined manner…"

"Fuck you, asshole."

"The term 'experts' is too…complimentary," Price concluded. He knew Washington would be in for something of a snipe hunt: many of the soldiers had been transferred, save for a few stubborn souls. Price hadn't been kept in the loop, and while he could get the information easily enough, he needed to test Washington's loyalties. Still, they needed to deal with this situation soon…

* * *

Tex wasn't expecting to wake up. Well, unless it was in one of Project Freelancer's capture units, or trapped within the armour of that monster Maine had been twisted into by Sigma. She was lucky to escape that fucker now known as the Meta…but her luck was sure to run out some time.

And yet, when she did wake up, she was on a bed, stripped of her armour, down to her gynoid body, she realised, and basic fatigues. She rarely took off her armour, almost never needing it. After all, she wasn't human, and in any case, the Director didn't like people seeing her face. He modelled her gynoid body on Allison, his wife, and the woman she was based on, and he didn't want anyone to put two and two together. She wondered why he didn't just use a different appearance for her gynoid body, before realising, that missed the point of having a new version of his dead wife.

Sitting nearby was a girl in her mid to late teens with bushy brown hair, and rather prominent teeth. Tex would have started threatening her, but her movements were sluggish. "Don't move," the girl said quietly. "Your body was pretty banged up during the crash, and we don't know whether we managed to repair everything properly. You're Agent Texas, right?"

"Right," Tex said, nodding. "Who are you? Who do you work for? I didn't think the UNSC hired you this young, unless you're part of the SPARTAN program."

"Oh, no, I'm not with them, or Project Freelancer," the girl said hurriedly. "Call me Athena. We retrieved you from the Valhalla base you crashed near. Well, I say we, but I'm more mission control here. I was brought here from…back home. There wasn't anything really left for me. My parents were murdered." Her face fell, and Tex found herself actually feeling sorry. "Anyway, a couple of old comrades of yours wanted me to come with them. I've been learning about the technology of this time ever since. Anyway, they heard about your crash at Valhalla, and came to pick you up. They couldn't find Omega or O'Malley, though, or Gamma, and they didn't want to stick around for Project Freelancer to find them. Anyway, I'd better go get them, let them know you're awake."

Athena scurried out of the room, a rather luxurious room, like a proper house, Tex noted. Then, the door slid open, admitting a pair of very familiar figures. Ones that Tex wasn't sure she was glad to see again. Both dressed in rather casual clothes, compared to what she usually saw them in. The woman was red-haired with green eyes, glinting at Tex dangerously. The man had a messy thatch of black hair, emerald eyes peering out at her rather more calmly.

"Carolina…Virginia…" Tex said, getting uneasily to her feet. "Should I be glad to see you two, or worried?"

"It depends," Carolina said. "And in private, I call him Harry." Then, coldly, she dropped the bombshell she had apparently been waiting to drop for a very long time. "Then again, you should know that. Shouldn't you, _Mother?_ "

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry and Carolina have hooked up (despite Harry being adopted by the Church family…we'll deal with that later), and have caused more than a few butterfly wings to affect Season 6. No prizes for guessing who Athena is, of course.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	143. Freelancer, Medic, Mage Chapter 2

**So, here's the second chapter of my _Red vs Blue_ crossover _Freelancer, Medic, Mage_. As it turns out, I now have another sample chapter to post here come the big update, so this story will actually be published, alongside _Hollow Heroes_ , as a full story come the next big update.**

 **Oh, and...this compilation now has over a thousand reviews. Booyah.**

* * *

 _ **FREELANCER, MEDIC, MAGE**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **UP TO SPEED**

 _Agent Virginia, aka Harry Church, rushed to Maine's side as they got him into the Pelican. Only two things had saved the hulking Freelancer's life: the sheer muscle mass of the man, and the armour. True, it was far weaker at the neck, but it was better than nothing, and by sheer luck, the man wasn't dead yet._

 _But unless Harry got a move-on, that state of affairs wouldn't last long._

 _Harry grimaced as he began working on the man, using his medical scanner to check Maine's injuries_. Nearly hit the carotid artery, his larynx is virtually annihilated, and while those rounds didn't hit his spine or any major blood vessels, it's a near thing, and he's still in danger of drowning in his own blood. Shit, Maine, that fucker did a real number on you.

 _He knew what happened. He'd been standing by in the dropship, the spare the_ Mother of Invention _had sent to collect the other Freelancers once all was said and done. Harry clenched his fist at the thought of the Director sending in Tex, without notifying anyone else, and effectively interfering with the mission. The Insurgent may have pulled the trigger, but Maine's injuries, Harry blamed on the Director for going off-script. Harry hadn't thought of the man as his father for some time, not since before Project Freelancer. It was since the argument when Harry and Carolina were still in high school, when he had sneered at Harry, calling him a cuckoo in the nest, and calling Carolina a traitor for siding with Harry._

 _It was that incident, Harry knew, that had led to their current relationship. Oh, they had to be careful, given UNSC regulations on fraternisation in the ranks, and despite not being actually related, a few people still looked askance at it as incest. At least York didn't find it weird, or at least repulsive, and Harry and Carolina had known him since they were teens. York was a good friend. Harry knew that he held a torch for Carolina, but at least respected Harry and Carolina enough to keep his distance._

 _Harry had to admit, he had a few friends in Project Freelancer at least, even if he only knew them by codenames. North Dakota, for example (though his sister was another matter, uppity little bitch), Washington, Connie (who had recently insisted she be called CT…though she didn't seem to mind Harry still calling her Connie)…hell, even Maine. The hulking Freelancer was a man of few words, and he loved violence, but he was still a friend as much as he was a comrade._

 _Even if Maine did survive, Harry knew it was unlikely he would be able to speak again. His larynx was a mangled mess of meat, and Harry was struggling to keep his airways clear. He felt the ship he was on shudder as it lifted off._

 _He wasn't aware of the others appearing until he heard Carolina ask, "Is he going to be okay?"_

 _"I don't know," Harry said, truthfully. "Try taking nine bullets to the throat and living through it. I can help him, but he needs a fucking hospital to survive."_

 _"We're on our way, Virg, don't worry," York said. "Maine's tough, he'll pull through this."_

 _"Toughness has nothing to do with it. I need to work as hard as I can to keep him alive until we get to hospital. I need space to work, please. York…Carrie…"_

 _The two other Freelancers nodded. Strong though their friendship was, Harry had a tendency to get snippy under pressure, and they knew when to get out of his space. Then again, a lot of the Freelancers were like that, including Carolina._

 _Eventually, too slowly, they reached the hospital ship, and he exchanged notes with the emergency doctors who came to relieve him. "You did the best you could," the man said quietly. "We'll take it from here. Good job."_

 _Good job…no, it wasn't. He wished he could have healed Maine's damaged larynx. He'd even tried to use his abilities, as discreetly as possible, but it didn't work. Maine was a mute now, and he couldn't stop that. Assuming, of course, Maine survived this._

 _He barely registered the feeling of his lover's hand on his shoulder. "Virg," she said quietly. "Once we're done with the debriefing, we're going to go and get some drinks. I think we need it. I don't like this any more than you do. I saw it happen."_

 _"Did you get the bastard who did it to him?" Harry asked, tears running from his eyes._

 _"Not yet. But we will."_

 _Harry, eventually, nodded, turning with Carolina to rejoin his comrades. He wasn't looking forward to the debrief of this little clusterfuck, but he was looking forward to getting plastered afterwards. He doubted he could drink enough to drown the guilt, but he was going to give it a damned good shot…_

* * *

Harry had to admit, the look of astonishment on Tex's face made going to the trouble of retrieving her and repairing her worth it. But the surprise wasn't at them calling her mother, but rather, at the fact that they knew this.

After a moment, Tex scowled. Her face wasn't exactly like Allison Church's, but it was very close, a more idealised form of the woman Harry had called Mum. "I'm not your mother, as much as the Director would love me to be." She looked down at her hand. "I'm just a ghost, a memory of a memory. So, where the hell am I?"

"In our base," Harry said. "We have a lair now. And it's far enough away from Valhalla, where you crashed, to escape notice."

"Am I supposed to be grateful? If I recall correctly, Carolina here has a major chip on her shoulder about me. A bit like an Electra Complex(1), even if you didn't know I was a Xerox of your mother."

Carolina gritted her teeth. "Maybe, but you have every reason to go against the Director as we do. We heard about you trying to retrieve the Alpha on the _Mother of Invention_. We know the truth about the Alpha, how it was tortured to split off the fragments like Delta, Sigma, and Theta."

"And how do you know about that?"

"I…invaded Price's mind shortly before we were kidnapped," Harry said. "I later found out it's called Legilimency. I was getting pissed at his refusal to answer my questions and going on about my anger issues, and, well…yeah. I only just told Carrie shortly before we got kidnapped. And we've been out of the loop for years. Hell, we were very surprised that, not only were we declared AWOL, but we'd been framed as double agents feeding information to the Covenant."

"Nobody in Project Freelancer bought that shit," Tex said. "But that was the official story. After CT's defection, your disappearance meant that the Director could hang all sorts of charges on you. Not that he cared about your relation to him."

"Neither do I, not anymore," Carolina said. Then, after a moment, she asked, her features softening, "Are you all right, Tex?"

Tex laughed bitterly. "Concern? For me? I don't deserve it. I may not have deliberately encouraged your rivalry, but I didn't exactly discourage it. The Director even wanted me to do so, thinking it'd make you or break you. Cockbite. I feel fine enough, though."

"Good. We'll be working on a way to deal with that monster Maine's become," Harry said. "We heard he attacked Valhalla and decimated the sim-troopers there, looking for Omega and Gamma, no doubt. We couldn't find either of them, and we couldn't linger with the large Recovery force heading there, so we decided to bring you back. Wish I stayed, in hindsight, with the Meta coming."

"What, the Meta was following me?!" Tex yelled. "Shit, I cut it close. If you guys hadn't retrieved me…I guess I owe you guys one. But if he's been there..." Tex blinked. "Wait…what's the date?"

"Let me save you the trouble," Carolina said. "It's been over a year since you left Blood Gulch. We did the research shortly after we got back, hacking into files. We brought Wyoming's helmet with us. Probably just as well, given the temporal distortion device. Then again, we found reports that the Meta broke into other Freelancer facilities and stole equipment."

"Great," Tex said. "Listen, when you were researching, did you find out what happened to the soldiers at Blood Gulch?"

"Well, we found transfer paperwork," Harry said. "Apparently one of the Reds, someone who calls himself 'Sarge', and his pet robot Lopez have stayed at the Red Base, while someone called Kaikaina Grif has stayed at the Blue Base. Michael Caboose was relocated to the Blue Base at Rat's Nest, and Dexter Grif and Richard Simmons were transferred to the red Base there. Apparently those aliens reunited with someone called Lavernius Tucker, who has become an ambassador to the Sangheili. And Franklin Donut…"

"Never mind Donut," Tex said. "What about Church?"

"Why?" Carolina asked. "I thought it weird that there was a sim-trooper with his name on those records we pulled."

"It isn't weird. I'm almost certain he's the Alpha."

Well, that bombshell wasn't…wholly unexpected. Oh, it was a possibility that they had mostly dismissed while trying to figure out what to do, but they didn't know what to believe. It may have been that their father had been double-bluffing about his location, or that he had placed a decoy there to try and direct attention away from himself. Still, it was a major surprise.

After getting over it, Harry said, "Well, he's at Outpost 48-A, not far from where we are, actually."

"Then we need to get there ASAP. If the Meta's in the area, he's in danger. And while we haven't seen eye to eye lately, and we parted on bad terms, he needs to know what's coming. I doubt the Meta will recognise him for what he is, but if he does…" Tex shook her head. "And if Recovery has been dispatched to Valhalla, they'll probably come across him while they're trying to track down those who know of Omega and Gamma. As far as I know, the only Freelancers in Recovery are Wash, and the twins."

"And York?" Carolina asked quietly. "We know he's dead, but we didn't learn how."

Tex closed her eyes. "I'm sorry. It was my fault. I got him to help me to try and track down Omega and Wyoming, but…it went badly, to say the least. York died, and Delta remained with him out of loyalty. He may speak like a computer, but he's one of the more human AI fragments, and I mean that in a good way. I know York was friends with both of you. He helped me out when I tried to free the Alpha. He didn't deserve what happened to him."

Carolina advanced on her. "Goddammit, Tex!" she snarled. "You take my position, you threw that damned flag at that sim-trooper Biff, you killed CT when I was trying to capture her, and now York's dead thanks to you. Finishing what you started in that damned training room."

"I saved York's life by using those armour-lock rounds, Carolina!" Tex snapped back. "If you want to blame anyone, blame Wyoming and Maine for using live rounds, including a live grenade, all for your father's gratification! He wouldn't have given two shits if Maine, Wyoming or York died in that training exercise, only if I was! But while I may not have given you the respect you think you deserved, I still thought of you as a comrade, as a human being! I actually asked about what to do about you during the heist of the Sarcophagus. And he told me to let nobody stand in my way. I don't think he really cared if you died."

"You don't think I've realised that?" Carolina growled. "And I noticed that you didn't mention Biff or CT."

"CT was a traitor, and I dealt with her as the Director ordered. If I had known what she did, though…I may have acted differently. As for Biff…I was being heavily influenced by Omega," Tex said. She looked over at Harry. "And at least you were on hand to save him."

"Luckily," Harry said acidly, thinking back to the massive row he had with Carolina about that little incident. While he was angry that Texas was responsible, even if indirectly, for York's death, he was a bit more calm about it. Carolina still had lingering anger issues about Tex, and needed to vent them…at least without it degenerating into a brawl.

After a moment of glaring at Tex, Carolina eventually subsided. "Then you're going to pay off your debt to him. Though I'm sure you want to do the same thing. We're going to head after the Director, once we've put Maine to rest."

"For revenge?" Tex asked. A sardonic smirk touched her lips. "Then why didn't you say so? I've just got one question, though."

"Ask away," Harry said, guessing what it would be. And he wasn't disappointed.

"Where the fuck have you been all these years?"

Carolina and Harry shared a look, before Harry said, "Short version? We got kidnapped by an ancient magical artifact and taken back in time to the late 20th Century by a bunch of wizards who thought I was their messiah for surviving an attempt on my life from a wizarding terrorist."

Tex stared at them, her mouth gaping, and Carolina fought to keep the smirk off her face. Eventually, the blonde gynoid said, "You know what? Fuck it. That sounds crazier than half the scenarios they put us through in the sim-trooper bases, and I think I'm going to need a strong drink while I hear the long version…"

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry and Carolina have been having a heart-to-heart with Tex.**

 **1\. An Electra Complex is basically the female equivalent of an Oedipus Complex, where a daughter competes with a mother figure for a father figure's attention. It derives from the legend of Electra, who, with her brother Orestes, plotted to kill their mother Clytemnestra and their stepfather Aegisthus for the murder of Agamemnon.**


	144. A Union of Dragons Chapter 1

**Well, here's something I wasn't considering doing until recently. Until now, my only dalliance with _A Song of Ice and Fire_ or its TV adaptation _Game of Thrones_ was a one-shot crossover with _Black Lagoon_ , called _Roanapur's Imp_. However, I realised that, with some tinkering, I could have at least one character from the series end up in the Potterverse, though it requires some rather convoluted stuff to happen. Namely, Daenerys Targaryen, prior to the start of the series.**

 **I also chose to cross this over with _Game of Thrones_ deliberately for two reasons. Firstly, I hadn't done a crossover with _Game of Thrones_ before (my one-shot is marked as a crossover with _A Song of Ice and Fire_ ). Secondly, and more importantly, Dany is 16 at the beginning of the TV series according to research, as opposed to her age of 13 in the books, meaning less squick involved. She, and Harry, will be about 15 at the start of this (it's another Year 4 book, once they get back to the Potterverse, with the ages bumped up a year), and the story will be finished in time for Dany and Harry to get involved with the events of Game of Thrones, should I decided to do a sequel...and assuming this gets published as a story at all.**

 **This is actually mostly based on my 'Misery Loves Company' challenge, mixed in with a partial response to whitetigerwolf's 'Animagus Lover' challenge. Anyway, enjoy.**

* * *

 _ **A UNION OF DRAGONS**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **A MEETING OF DRAGONS**

It took all of Illyrio Mopatis' not-inconsiderable influence to prevent the rumours from spreading too far. While he was in alliance with the infamous Master of Whispers of Westeros, the eunuch Lord Varys, he knew better than to allow information to spread without his leave. Varys was one of the few who knew outside of Pentos, and even within Pentos itself, the amount of people who knew about the secret within his manse was a small amount.

Still, rumours were hard to quash, and indeed, the very act of quashing them was akin to popping a pimple on the face, likely to cause the rumours to spread and multiply. Thankfully, the rumours were not enough to cause certain opportunists to come out of the shadows. What Illyrio had in a special room, deep beneath his mansion, was worth a king's ransom many times over. But he knew that he needed to save it for some very special guests who had been invited to stay with him.

Namely, two of the last remaining Targaryens.

After Robert's Rebellion, the surviving Targaryens could now be counted on a single hand. Aside from the two who were coming to see him, he knew, through Varys, that a third worked as a Maester for the Night's Watch at the Wall in the North of Westeros. If any others were left in existence, then they had the good sense to hide far better than these two did: Robert Baratheon's sheer hatred of anyone with Targaryen blood was stronger even than the man's taste for hunting and hedonism. Illyrio couldn't exactly judge the man on hedonism, but Robert was infamous for his lack of good grace and elegance.

Then again, it wasn't like these last remnants of the Targaryens were any better, according to his sources. The girl, Daenerys, was something of a non-entity, apparently, due to the overbearing influence of her brother Viserys. Beautiful, but rather passive.

Viserys was another matter. Unlike Daenerys, who had been born on the run from Robert's wrath, Viserys was old enough to remember what being part of royalty was like, and his anger and resentment had festered over the years. He was mocked throughout the Free Cities as the 'Beggar King', due to having to live off the goodwill of those in power. Unfortunately, he also seemed to have something of his father Aerys' madness and cruelty, being aggressive, haughty, and impulsive, forgetting that a prince without a throne had little authority, if at all. That he hadn't been murdered by now was a miracle in of itself, though not necessarily a good one.

Still, Viserys had responded to his invitation, sending back a haughty and, frankly, condescending missive that was nonetheless well-written, with the Beggar King deigning to accept Illyrio's invitation. They were due later today. And when Viserys saw the gift he intended to give to him, Illyrio knew he would have the spoilt royal brat hooked.

Which was why he entered the room where he kept his secret gift, one he had found a few months ago not far outside the city, one he had managed to get to secretly before anyone else. A creature not seen for over a century. It had been unconscious, exhausted. He still kept it confined, not willing to take any chances. But Illyrio was certain that the creature was intelligent. He sometimes spoke to it. Like he was now. Not willing to speak all secrets to it, but still, he felt like it was a confidante of sorts.

He sat down on a stone bench, to the side of the chained beast, and remarked, "Your new master arrives later today."

A slit-pupiled eye opened, and glared at him balefully. The one with the peculiar scar above it. It was a most brilliant emerald colour. The lips of the beast drew back over vicious, sharp fangs, and a low, quiet, but menacing growl echoed around the underground chamber.

"Now, now, none of that," Illyrio chided gently. "Your restraints are a regrettable necessity. Personally, I would prefer you to not be kept underground like this. A magnificent beast like yourself deserves to be shown to the world as the wonder you are, to be treated in accordance with your majesty. Sadly, reality is a cruel mistress, and I am forced to retain you as a bargaining chip of sorts. Your destiny is now to bring glory back to a diminished line, to be their steed as they burn through their enemies."

There were times when Illyrio imagined that the beast could speak, the last couple of times he had visited. But what he heard next was no imagination. It was hard to discern, partly due to the band of metal keeping its jaws mostly closed (leaving enough only for it to be fed with extreme care), and partly due to the inhuman shape of the mouth…but he heard words now, spoken in a deep, bass rumble. And what they said shocked him. Not surprised him, but he was shocked that the beast could truly speak…and that could think.

" ** _I…am…nobody's…pet_** …" The emerald eye focused on Illyrio. " ** _But I…WILL…burn…my enemies_** …" The intensity of its gaze as it focused on Illyrio meant that the Magister was one of this creature's targets.

Illyrio fought down the urge to gulp nervously. Instead, he said, "That would not be wise. You forget who holds the keys to your release. You will be obedient, or perish should your value prove less than the trouble you cause. You may be powerful, but you are far from invulnerable."

A series of huffs emerged from the creature's restrained mouth. Illyrio realised, with a start, that the creature was _laughing_ at him. It was part-mockery, and part-weariness. He knew the creature had to be young, given its size, and yet, there was something old, or at least experienced about it. "… ** _If HE…couldn't do it…what makes you…think YOU can?_** " it growled. " ** _I will…escape…Illyrio Mopatis._** "

Illyrio scoffed with a confidence he didn't truly feel. "I have every confidence in my blacksmith and lockmaker. And I find you to be a rather dull conversationalist anyway."

Once more, the huffs echoed around the underground room, and Mopatis decided to leave. NOT retreat, no matter how hurried his walk up the stairs was. The laughter, however, followed him up the stairs…

* * *

It was later that afternoon that Illyrio had welcomed his new guests. They certainly had the silvery blonde hair and violet eyes that marked the Valyrian blood the Targaryens had. They were very different, though, and not just in terms of gender. The reports Illyrio had about their respective temperaments, sadly, seemed to be accurate, and he knew he would have to draw on his diplomatic skills to keep Viserys from having a hissy fit every time something didn't go his way. He was a spoilt child whose hardships hadn't tempered his character, but worsened it. And Daenerys was a timid mouse. A beauty, and an excellent bargaining chip to be married off. Maybe to that Dothraki warlord Khal Drogo, which would satisfy Viserys' desire for an army to conquer Westeros with, but still, she had less fire and steel in her than a Targaryen should.

Still, he knew that Viserys would be potentially pleased with the gift he had been given, though he felt some trepidation about the matter. After all, if the beast proved recalcitrant, it may either harm Viserys, or Viserys would kill it in a fit of pique. Either scenario was immensely irritating, to say the least.

"And why has a gift for me been consigned to such a dreary and dull cellar in an outbuilding?" Viserys demanded imperiously as they descended the steps.

"A precaution for various reasons," Illyrio said smoothly. "Two are of considerable and equal importance. The first is that I do not want any damage done to my residence should something happen. The second was more of a matter of secrecy. I have managed to prevent rumours from spreading, but they may yet spread, and that would complicate matters."

Viserys emitted a rather disgruntled noise, but accepted it. Illyrio had even ensured that they were the only ones there, to ensure Viserys couldn't accuse them of attempting to murder them. "And what is this gift?"

"You will see, Your Grace," Illyrio answered, for what had to be the tenth time in half as many minutes. He kept his exasperation off his mien and out of his voice, though.

But they came to the room, and they saw what was chained and bound to the floor. The two Targaryens gasped in shock and surprise. But then, that was perfectly understandable.

After all, they were seeing a dragon for the first time in their lives.

The scales of the beast were pitch black, save for a jagged white scar above its right eye, looking like a thunderbolt. It was a little smaller than a horse, wings aside, and looked rather scrawny. Chains and bands of metal held it down, and a metal band around its mouth acted as a muzzle of sorts. It opened the eye facing them, the emerald orb peering at them balefully…though Illyrio seemed to note a brief moment of surprise when it saw Daenerys, a minute widening of the eye. Maybe struck by her beauty? Perhaps there was some truth to the old fairytales of dragons abducting beautiful princesses.

Once Viserys had recovered his wits, he turned to Illyrio, a pleased smirk on his face. "A very fine gift indeed, Illyrio. I presume the chains are a precaution?"

"Indeed, Your Grace," Illyrio said, thankful that the Beggar King didn't protest their usage. "We came across the dragon just outside of Pentos. Mercenaries loyal to me found it, comatose but alive. I had been negotiating for the purchase of fossilised dragons' eggs from the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai as a gift, but this rather serendipitously came to us."

Viserys nodded, and then approached the dragon. Despite his arrogance, he did so with considerable caution. "Strange," he mused. "I had dreamed all my life of obtaining a dragon. But the reality does not quite meet the dream. Was it like this when you found it?"

"Yes. By what accounts we have found, the dragon is an adolescent, or at least the equivalent. I should also warn you, Your Grace, that the dragon is intelligent."

Viserys scoffed. "Intelligent? As in able to think and speak? Don't be absurd. They're beasts."

" ** _If I…am a beast…what does that…make you?_** "

Viserys all but leapt back. "It spoke!"

" ** _Yes, I spoke. And so…did you._** " The dragon glared at Viserys. " ** _And I will…not be…your pet._** "

Viserys, true to form, sneered. "How dare you speak back to me?! Even if you are capable of speech, your place is as my mount, as I take back the throne that is rightfully mine! You have no say in the matter!"

* * *

Daenerys watched as the dragon…well, awoke the dragon, as her brother put it so often. She feared it, and yet, this bound dragon with those emerald eyes was baiting him! She knew he would punish the dragon mocking him, just as he punished her for slights both real and imagined.

She wished that her friend was here. True, said friend was imaginary, coming to her only in her dreams. A baseborn boy, black of hair and green of eye, wearing glass lenses on frames. A boy who learned he was a wizard, so he claimed. He had been a major comfort to her during the Targaryen children's hard times on the run. The stories he told of his life had helped give her some peace.

But no, he was a figment of Dany's imagination, one that came and went like the wind. He would never be able to save her from her brother and his ambitions. She knew now what kind of person he was, that the brother she loved and who loved her in his turn had died in increments, leaving a sleeping dragon that did not love, just rage and hate.

The dragon lying here was magnificent, though to hear it speak was a surprise. They never did in the histories. Fairytales were another matter, of course, but this one could. And it hated her brother.

" ** _Oh? I don't have…a say?_** " the dragon rumbled. " ** _Let me guess…you will say…something like…hmm, 'just wait till my father…hears about this'? Oh, wait. Your father's dead…Viserys Targaryen. And you are…your father's son._** "

"Silence!" screamed her brother. "I will not hear another world from you, beast, unless I order it!"

" ** _Too bad…because I have…another word…ALOHAMORA._** "

The word was alien to Dany's ears, and yet, suddenly, locks suddenly sprang loose. The dragon shrugged off the chains and metal bars, shaking them off like a dog shaking off water from its fur. As it rose, it said, " ** _It took me…months…to remember…myself. I will not…be your pet. Now…GO!_** " A brief blast of flame that singed her brother's hair punctuated this.

Viserys immediately fled, pushing Dany behind him to act as a human shield, causing her to stumble and fall near the dragon. The Magister seemed more inclined to try and help her, until the dragon reached over with a clawed hand, and grabbed her leg, pulling her towards it. " ** _Dany is MINE!_** " it snarled.

Dany was confused. The dragon had called her brother by name, now that she came to think about it, but maybe Mopatis had mentioned their names before. But how could it know her nickname?

The Magister fled up the stairs, though not before saying, "I doubt you can escape yet, even with fire and flight." Then, he left.

At that, the dragon closed its eyes, and then gently let Dany go. For some reason, though, she didn't scramble away. Perhaps it was because the expression on the dragon's face was no longer fierce and furious, but rather, tired and regretful. " ** _I'm sorry, Dany_** ," it said. " ** _I didn't want…to hurt you. But after…what you told me…of your brother…I thought you…were a dream_** …"

Suddenly, the dragon began to shrink, the scales changing to pale skin and dark, tattered robes, the figure becoming that of a boy of about her age, fifteen. The wings receded, as did the tail. The eyes remained the same, more or less, having the distinctive slit pupils of a dragon, though they were behind askew lenses. A mop of messy black hair sat on his head. His face looked haggard and drawn.

Dany, however, knew his face. It had been somewhat less haggard, true, but she knew it. Especially the scar that snaked its way out from beneath his hair. But it was impossible. He couldn't be here.

"…Harry?" she asked, scarcely daring to dream that it was real. "Is that truly you I see before me?"

He nodded, and held out his hand. "We've got to get out of here. I'll explain what I can later…though I don't know half of what's going on myself. Please, Dany…trust me."

After a moment, Dany took his hand. She was surprised at how readily she made the decision, considering she was running from her brother, from comfort and safety…but she knew that Viserys would be back soon. And despite him only existing in her dreams until now, Dany realised she could trust Harry more than she could trust her own brother.

And she thought something that she would hold as a standard in another time: _If I look back, I am lost_.

"Hold tight," Harry said. "I can't remember the last time I managed this."

Dany wondered what he meant, before she felt a strange sensation, as if she was being squeezed through a tube, taking her away from that outhouse basement in Pentos…and into something new…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So…Harry's a dragon, and Daenerys Targaryen was his imaginary friend. And vice versa. Don't worry, more will be revealed in due time. And they'll be heading back to the Potterverse before long, which is where most of this story will take place.**

 **Now, Dany's character: she may seem OOC, but keep in mind that there's two main factors involved. The first and most important is that this is Dany before she toughened up after being married to Khal Drogo. But on the other hand, she's had Harry as an imaginary friend, and that has changed her character a little. Don't worry, we will see a version of the Khaleesi emerge.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	145. A Union of Dragons Chapter 2

**I have to admit, I was astonished at the response to the first chapter of _A Union of Dragons_. Hopefully, it'll become a full fic. And as this chapter shows, Dany isn't the only character to make the trip from Planetos to the Potterverse...**

* * *

 _ **A UNION OF DRAGONS**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **DANY AND HARRY**

They spent the first night on the run in a seemingly abandoned farmhouse in the Flatlands after Harry Apparated out of the city. This one, thankfully, had a few fruit trees they could get some food from, and while Harry found that, even when human, he wanted more meat, he couldn't exactly go to the local McDonalds. No, he'd already gathered that this place was another world, or else Earth during medieval times. So he gathered some fruit, some salted meat, found a well and a few plates and cups left behind, and he and Dany had a rather rustic meal. However, it was still better than nothing. Though both of them noticed that the farmhouse had been used recently. There was less dust and neglect than they expected.

After they finished their furtive meal, Harry looked at his fellow fugitive. Merlin, she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, he thought. There was something admittedly unearthly about that beauty, with the silvery-blonde hair and the violet eyes, and Harry had not really paid much attention to the female students at Hogwarts, save for Hermione (and he saw her more like a sister) and Cho Chang (and that was, well, he didn't think Dany was real), so Harry didn't have many people to compare her too.

But she had been there for him since a young age, when he met her in his dreams, while sleeping in the cupboard under the stairs. Daenerys Stormborn, one of the last of her line, the House of Targaryen, a girl who should be a princess, but whose line had been overthrown. So she claimed. Certainly what that fat bastard Mopatis said confirmed that…and claimed her father, Aerys, had been a madman, while he soliloquised to Harry while he was captive.

Dany, as she had insisted he call her after a certain point, had been the literal girl of his dreams, and his oldest friend, a friend who was now very real. She was shivering, not from the cold, but from anxiety.

"I'm sorry for taking you away from there," Harry said. "I just didn't want to leave you with that thing you call a brother."

Dany's lips thinned, but eventually, she nodded. "They will send people after us. I don't know where we can go. Other cities are too far unescorted, especially with us both on the run. Unless…can you change back to a dragon?"

"I dunno. I mean, I changed in the first place, and I forgot who I was. That's why Mopatis captured me, I was out cold. Changing into a dragon did something to my head, and I couldn't remember myself. It took until a week ago for me to remember, and then, I heard your name mentioned by him. I wanted to wait, and see. I was even checking if I could use magic in that form. That's how I got rid of the chains: it was a spell used to unlock locks."

Dany, after a moment, said, "And you can cast other spells?"

Harry nodded, before he took his wand out of his robes (amazing that was still there after the Animagus transformation or whatever the hell it was), and cast an _Incendio_ at the small fireplace. "In our dreams, you said magic was pretty much gone from the world, right?"

Dany nodded. "Yes. It is said that magic began to die out after the last dragons passed. Many believe that magic is completely gone from the world. But you said on your world, it merely hides, as do its own dragons. Can they speak as you did?"

"No, of course not," Harry said. "I'm surprised I was able to, frankly. It's hard to think like a human when you're a dragon."

"I see." Dany was considering things, before she asked, "If you can change back to a dragon, would you be willing to bear me until we could find sanctuary? Braavos, Myr and Tyrosh are far from here."

"I dunno. I'm not exactly big enough to be ridden," Harry said. "And I'd be worried about dropping you if I carried you. If I'm lucky, we can Apparate more, but doing it blindly is just asking for trouble."

"Apparate?"

"The teleporting thing we did to get here."

Dany's eyes widened in comprehension, before she grimaced. "That was…unpleasant. Then again, I should be used to unpleasantness by now." Then, her violet eyes met his own emerald ones. "Harry, how did you come to be in our world? The last time we spoke in your dreams, you spoke of the treachery of your…godfather, I believe the term was? And there were these…demons that consumed happiness and souls, Dementors you dubbed them."

Harry thought back to that time, which felt like an eternity ago now, even if it was only some months. The last time he had seen Dany in his dreams was shortly before that disastrous confrontation. He spoke, haltingly at first, of what happened. Of the confrontation in the Shrieking Shack, of Sirius' innocence, Pettigrew being Ron's pet rat Scabbers, Snape's obsession with having Sirius and Lupin Kissed by the Dementors, his being stopped…

And then, it went even more wrong. Lupin's transformation. Pettigrew's escape. The Dementors swarming them. Harry's desperation causing him to change…the dragonfire, as he now realised, engulfing the Dementors, burning them into nothingness with their screams and shrieks filling the air. But still, there was an instinct to get away from it all, an animalistic desire to flee thanks to the fear-inducing aura of the Dementors, even after they burnt away. He had felt a strange cold darkness, and then, he was in what he later learned was the Flatlands around Pentos.

Then, capture by Magister Illyrio Mopatis. Chains and darkness, fed and watered, but held captive as a valuable bargaining chip. And then, Dany and her brother arrived.

"You know what happened next," Harry concluded quietly.

"Yes. You kidnapped me," Dany said, with a nervous, but wry smile. It seemed that she was trying to find some humour in the situation.

"I think you needed it, given how Viserys treated you."

Dany opened her mouth, as if to object, only to change her mind. "He has changed much, from my brother to my warden, with a singular obsession towards regaining the Iron Throne. It consumes him, Harry, like fire consumes fields of wheat and grass. I have told you of this before."

"Yeah, I know. Don't get me wrong, I don't know enough about what happened to your family to say much. Mopatis said something about your father Aerys being the Mad King, about the people he had burned. But I know you're worth helping, Dany. I mean, I probably can't get your throne back, but I want to help you stay alive and happy. Merlin knows you helped me do the same, especially when I was still in that cupboard." He chuckled. "You want to know the reason why I thought you weren't real? Well, one of them? It was because you said you were a princess. Even given how young I was when I met you…I thought I couldn't have a princess for a friend. That stuff only happens in stories."

"And yet, here I am. Daenerys Stormborn, of the House of Targaryen. I would be offended, but I thought the same of you. All the same, you were of considerable comfort to me, Harry Potter," Dany said.

"I'm glad. You probably needed it. As bad as the Dursleys treated me, at least they gave me a home. You had to move so many times and sell your things, it isn't funny." He frowned when he spotted, near the table, a dusty, careworn book. He went over and picked it up. " _A History of the Seven Kingdoms?_ " he read the title. "What's something like this doing in a farmhouse?"

"I don't know," Dany said, joining him. "It is rare that one of the smallfolk can read, let alone have an interest in history. And history of another continent, at that." She took it out of his hands, and flicked through it. "It documents the history of Westeros up until the reign of my grandfather, Aegon V. Maybe the man who owned this house once lived in Westeros, only to leave for Essos, though why they would do so to become a farmer…" She shook her head. "Never mind. It may prove useful for both of us, especially yourself."

"What do you mean?"

"I haven't taught you much about the kingdom my line ruled over," Dany said. "If we travel there, it would help for you to familiarise yourself with their history. And so would I, given that most of what I learned has come from my brother's mouth. Of course, nothing is certain. The Magister has doubtlessly sent men after us, at my brother's urging. And when they find us…" She shivered.

After taking the book from her and stowing it in his robes, Harry gently put an arm around her shoulders. "I won't let him hurt you. Not while I'm still alive…"

* * *

Dany shivered a little at Harry's proclamation, spoken simply, but with an undercurrent of menace. She knew that her brother would be sneering at the lowborn teenager's presumption at being so familiar, and even a small but vocal part of her, the part that felt the fire of her heritage most keenly, felt the same way. But…Harry had been there to talk to her at the lowest points of her life, to comfort her. He was her friend. Even if it was only in dreams, he had made her laugh. Nobody else had made her laugh for a long time. They either jeered secretly in contempt, or else deferred to her due to her admittedly diminished station. Harry treated her…normally. And it was surprisingly refreshing.

To many, she was the sister of the Beggar King, making her lesser in their eyes. But to Harry…she was Dany. Despite knowing her station, diminished though it was, he treated her with familiarity, and in a way that didn't grate on her. Then again, he was her friend.

Her thoughts were interrupted when they heard a horse outside. Only one, but still, it could be a problem. Harry shot her a look, before the pair of them got into hiding, though not before Harry extinguished the fire with a jet of water from his wand. Maybe he had magic that could help them. And there was also the uncomfortable Apparition Harry spoke of for escape.

The door opened, and in the dim light from the moon, they saw an armed man come in. He frowned, before kneeling down next to where the fire was, before looking at the plates with the remnants of fruit on them. After a moment, he said, "Come out. I know you're here."

As the man drew his sword, Harry drew his wand, and hissed, " _Expelliarmus!_ " A jet of light smashed into the man, sending his sword flying, along with the man himself.

"Run!" Harry yelled. But even as they fled, the man recovered his wits, and managed to trip them both.

But as he bore down upon them, he managed to get a look at Dany's face. And she got a look at his in the moonlight. An older man, past forty, but fit and still filled with fighting spirit. His face was handsome, she supposed, in a rugged way. He was dressed in a manner that seemed to have elements of Westerosi warriors, and the Dothraki she had heard tales about.

"Impossible…" he hissed. "Daenerys Targaryen…Your Grace, what are you doing here?!"

"Get away her you bastard!" Harry snarled, kicking up at the man, but the man caught it. "You're not taking us back!"

The man, after a moment's thought, said, "Quieten down, lad, you scream enough to bring the dead down upon us. I am not taking you anywhere, save for where she wishes to go."

Dany stared at the man in fear, but eventually found her voice. "You are from Westeros?"

"I was, before my exile. I am Ser Jorah Mormont, Your Grace," he said. His gaze went over to Harry. "And this is…?"

"Harry Potter, a boy I befriended on my travels," Dany said. "Despite his station, he has been my sole friend during these years of hardship. And he is very protective of me."

Ser Jorah looked at Harry appraisingly. "And his eyes?" he asked.

"A side-effect of practising magic. He is a mage of considerable skill, as you found out," Dany said.

"A spell that can deprive a man of his weapons," Ser Jorah mused. "Useful." He looked over at Harry with trepidation, and a little respect.

"Is this your house?" Harry asked.

"It is now," Ser Jorah said. "The Magisters of Pentos pay tribute to the Dothraki to prevent raids against the city and the Flatlands around them. However, a newly-appointed Magister was something of a miser, and refused to pay tribute. This farm, small though it was, was one of those attacked to try and persuade him to do so. I ride with the Dothraki, and act as a liaison between them and Pentos when we're nearby. The Dothraki gifted me with this house. It's maintained by servants of Magister Mopatis, who are sent out on a regular basis to tend to it. I stay here when I am needed in Pentos."

"So you got this house because of some murderers on horseback?" Harry asked in a dangerous tone of voice.

Before Ser Jorah could retort, or Dany rebuke Harry, blue flames seemed to appear out of nowhere, gathering around them. "What manner of sorcery is this?!" Ser Jorah hissed.

"Other than it's a manner of sorcery, I've no idea!" Harry retorted sarcastically, shortly before the flames seemed to gather strength…and engulf the three of them.

* * *

The first thing Dany noticed when the azure light faded away was the stone floor beneath her feet, warmer than that of the farmhouse. The second thing she noticed was the susurration of many voices, speaking quietly, too many to fit into the farmhouse. As her eyes cleared from the blue light of the flames that had engulfed them, she realised that, instead of a farmhouse, she was in some sort of hall within a castle. Hundreds of teenagers in robes were seated at a quartet of tables. Candles hung in the air with no visible support, and the ceiling showed an image of a night sky. With a start, she realised she didn't know any of the stars, no constellations she recognised.

"Harry?" came a voice from behind them, the voice of an old man. Dany turned her head to see an ancient man, with a beard long enough to be tucked into his belt, and wearing a rather eye-searing combination of colours. He was standing next to an ancient-looking goblet on a plinth. "Harry…you're alive!" he cried in obvious relief.

Harry smiled back painfully, before turning to Dany. "Dany…Mormont…welcome to Hogwarts…"

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry, Dany, and Jorah are at Hogwarts. And Harry has been brought back, once more, by everyone's favourite MacGuffin, save perhaps for the Veil, the Goblet of Fire.**

 **So, a few notes here. It took me a long time to consider when to set this during Harry's life. I was leery of doing yet another story set during the Tri-Wizard Tournament, but I eventually decided to do it. Of course, how Harry ended up in Planetos in the first place is something we will answer later, but here's a clue: some of the dragons in this story are a bit like Anne McCaffrey's, including Harry. This isn't just an Animagus transformation.**

 **Secondly, bringing Jorah in. I actually did this on an impulse, and I've probably buggered up the timeline of the** ** _Game of Thrones_** **story to give him a justification for it. But he's a useful source of information on Westeros, as well as Dany's father, and is not wholly afraid to tell Dany the bad parts of her heritage as well as the good. While there may be some part of him that does get attracted to her, Jorah will become basically her bodyguard, as well as an advisor to the couple. He will be somewhat wary of Harry, partly due to his familiarity with Dany and partly due to a paternal protectiveness. He is already recruited by Varys, to act as his spy on the Targaryens in Essos, but his time with Dany will have his loyalties change sooner.**

 **Thirdly, there will be no Dumbledore-bashing, or at least he won't be made a villain. He will be a flawed man more focused on the Greater Good than individuals, but he will be a good man. As the Horcrux was annihilated by Harry's transformation, Dumbledore will be a little more open with Harry. What's more, he will be one of Dany's main tutors in statecraft when he learns of her station.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	146. Cambion Chapter 1

**Many of you may remember that I recently tried to begin another _High School DxD_ crossover, called _Hermione Bael_. While I wholly intended to try and continue that story, I realised I couldn't continue it beyond a certain point. So, I decided to go back and revise it, discussing pertinent plot points with whitetigerwolf, whose challenge inspired the story in the first place.**

 **Many will doubtless see similarities to my first _High School DxD_ story, _Fall to Zenith_ , in this one (in fact, _Cambion_ was my working title for that fic, before the story changed and I wanted a different title). Certainly there are some superficial similarities, in that it starts in Year 4 (well, Year 5 for this older Harry, and the ages of the Hogwarts characters have been bumped up a year), is set some time before _High School DxD_ canon begins, has a half-Devil Harry belonging to one of the canonical families from the series, and has him being, eventually, married to Rias. But those are superficial similarities. Firstly, this will be a WBWL fic, with some James Potter and WBWL-bashing, but, unlike _Fall to Zenith_ , no Dumbledore-bashing. Secondly, _Fall to Zenith_ was written when I had less knowledge about _High School DxD_ , and so I think this story will turn out better. Thirdly, I'm making this story a harem fic, with an already pencilled-in harem of Harry/Rias/Hermione/Akeno, with the possibility of adding Fleur. Finally, Harry won't be participating in the Tri-Wizard Tournament (Barty Crouch Junior being instructed to put the WBWL's name into the Goblet), leaving him free to deal with other problems.**

 **Oh, and unlike my previous WBWL fics, Lily is alive, albeit in a coma thanks to her protection ritual. No prizes for guessing how Harry will revive her...**

* * *

 _ **CAMBION**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **SECRETS REVEALED**

It's odd how fate works out at times. Some events can change things for better, or for worse. How that happens can be a matter of perspective.

Certainly, the death of Vali Lucifer, the half-human scion of the Lucifer line of Devils, as a young child was a tragedy, and the world was poorer for his absence, even if he would grow into a battle-hungry young man in other timelines, the destined wielder of the weapon known as the Divine Dividing, and the Heavenly Dragon sealed within it, Albion. In going too far with their abuse, his father and grandfather had robbed themselves of an opportunity to wield power by proxy, though they never would have succeeded, anyway. Vali died unmourned in a world that should have mourned his passing.

But the death of the boy who would become the latest White Dragon Emperor upset the order, for Albion's rival, Ddraig, the Heavenly Dragon sealed within the Boosted Gear, had yet to be given to a new master, one who would become the next Red Dragon Emperor. These two had a rivalry that spanned centuries, and the Dragon Emperors with opposing powers were destined to clash. Vali's demise also had an impact on the burgeoning organisation known as the Khaos Brigade.

Shortly after Vali's untimely death, Ddraig and Albion were soon given their new chance. But fate, it seemed, had a perverse sense of humour, as it often does. Ddraig was destined to become the Sacred Gear of Issei Hyoudou, an otherwise unremarkable Japanese boy who would grow up to become a pervert of prodigious proportions…well, prodigious in his perversion, anyway. But Vali's death upset things, and it was Albion who would become sealed within Issei.

As for the Boosted Gear, and with it, Ddraig? Well, as noted before, fate has a somewhat perverse sense of humour. Ddraig found himself sealed within a child who, frankly, needed his power, only for said power to be inaccessible for about fifteen of the first sixteen years of his life.

A power that was about to be unleashed thanks to a friend with a secret of her own…

* * *

Harry Tonks didn't know where exactly Hermione Granger was taking him, the first weekend after Hogwarts started again. She was in the year below him, his brother's year (even if Charlie and James Potter would deny that to their dying breath), but the two were friends, of a sort. Outcasts both, Harry having been thrown out of the Potter family for being a bastard child (no father was known, and James Potter didn't care, only that Lily had been unfaithful to him), and Hermione for being a Muggleborn prodigy who had the misfortune to demand the Sorting Hat put her into Gryffindor rather than Ravenclaw, where she belonged.

And now, she paid the price, alienated from most of her peers in her age group. Harry technically was only a couple of months older than her. He was in his fifth year (and thus needed to study for his OWLs), though, and Hermione was in her fourth (turning sixteen in a couple of weeks), along with Charlie and the youngest Weasley boy. Then again, Ron had grown sick of Charlie after last year. The only friends Charlie had, despite his delusions, were Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley. Unfortunately, his father and godfather wielded a lot of influence in political circles, so Charlie had his own little court, like Draco Malfoy, hoping to gain his favour.

In any case, Hermione was something of an outcast, and she and Harry were pretty strong friends, despite them being in different years at Hogwarts. She was a good studying partner, as she frequently read ahead, and he would probably need her help with his OWLs, not because he couldn't by himself, but because she was good at reminding him to study, and had a knack for discerning what would be covered by tests.

They eventually halted on the seventh floor, and Hermione began pacing back and forth near a painting showing dancing Trolls. To Harry's astonishment, a door appeared. "What the hell?" he yelped.

"The Room of Requirement," Hermione said. "I discovered it last year by accident while trying to find a place to rest because of that Time Turner nonsense. The House Elves call it the 'Come and Go Room'."

"Huh. Does anyone else know about this?"

"Only Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore, to my knowledge, and a few of my friends," Hermione said. "Dumbledore stumbled across it once filled with chamberpots. But it basically sets things up for your requirements, whatever they may be. And I wanted a place to talk with you in private, Harry. I've been keeping secrets from you, and it's past time I revealed them."

With that, Hermione opened the door to the room, and went inside. Harry followed, to find that it was like the Gryffindor common room, with fireplace, lounges, and a table currently laden with tea and tea paraphernalia. "What's all this for? Are we having a tea party or something?"

"Later." Hermione sat down in one chair, and gestured for Harry to sit down in another. He did so, and Hermione seemed to take some time to gather herself. Eventually, she said, "I'm not sure where to begin. Please know, Harry, despite my keeping secrets from you, you are my friend. In fact, it was because of that that I kept those secrets, because I wasn't sure what you'd think of me. And it's not just secrets about myself…but secrets about you. Things that I've suspected, and which I've almost confirmed."

"What do you mean, secrets about me?" Harry said. Then, he realised what she meant. "You mean…you know who my father is? The guy who slept with my mother?" The very mother who was in a coma in St Mungo's…his mother, whom he intended to find a way to wake up.

Hermione nodded. "Yes. In fact, if I'm correct…there is a way she can leave St Mungo's. Almost nothing can bring her out of the coma she's in thanks to whatever she did to stop Voldemort and save you and Charlie. But…there is something that can. I've actually considered doing it myself, but I knew that, when I did, you may never speak to me again, and Charlie and his father would definitely take umbrage."

"Hermione…I trust you most out of everyone here, now that Dora's graduated," Harry said, thinking back to his clumsy stepsister. Nymphadora Tonks, who hated her first name, but was the best big sister to him after James Potter cast him out of the family, and the Tonks family took him in. Of course, Hermione wasn't the only person he trusted here. The Weasley Twins, for example, Luna Lovegood, Daphne Greengrass, Cedric Diggory…

"Okay. The truth is, Harry…I'm wearing a glamour. Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall, along with Madam Pomfrey, are the only people who know in this school. My real name is not Hermione Granger. My real name is Hermione Bael." Then, she pressed a hand to her chest. Something seemed to release, and suddenly, Hermione had _changed_. Her now buxom body was something many a woman would envy having, even if she was about his age. Brown eyes flecked with amber looked at him with concern and amusement, and her hair was beautiful brown waves…framing a very familiar face.

It wasn't quite the same face. It was too beautiful to be the same face, not exactly. And yet, it was so familiar, and Harry was almost certain that it was the same person. It was Hermione, as if refined and made more beautiful in subtle ways that nonetheless added up.

Of course, most startling of all were the pair of cat ears, twitching on her head.

Hermione smirked a little at his shock, but said, gently, "Are you aware of any of the magical beings of Japan, Harry? The ones known as youkai?" Harry shook his head. "Well, I am part-youkai, specifically a type of youkai known in Japanese as a nekomata, or a catgirl." She gestured towards her body. "I made my body look less desirable rather deliberately. It was part of going undercover at Hogwarts. In truth, I know probably more about magic than even adult wizards and witches, though there are some that I don't know about. That's one of the reasons I accepted the Time Turner back in Third Year."

"I remember hearing from Ron that you turned part-cat back in your second year, but you said…"

"I know what I said. Millicent Bulstrode does have a cat, but nekomata have a bad reaction to Polyjuice Potion. That's what really happened, _nya_." She blinked, before grimacing. She gestured, and her ears disappeared, though the rest of her remained the same. "I thought I'd managed to get rid of that. Anyway…that's not the half of it. You see, nekomata are not very well liked by many corners of the supernatural world. We're feared and coveted for our powers, especially those of the stronger offshoots of our people, the nekoshou, of which I am one of them. There was a pogrom not long ago. My family barely avoided the worst of the backlash. Anyway, nekoshou, even half-bloods like me, have an innate ability to sense energy, particularly lifeforce, and use it to distinguish people by their species. What's more, we can tell if certain powers lie dormant."

"Okay, okay, I get it, but what does this have to do about my father?"

"I'm getting to that, Harry. I'm trying to cushion the blow. The thing is, Harry…I'm not half-human, half-nekomata. My other half is not human."

"Half what?" Harry asked. "Stop beating around the bush, Hermione!"

Eventually, she whispered, in a quiet tone, "…Half-Devil."

As he stared at her, she hurriedly held up her hands. "Please, understand, Harry. Not all Devils are like those in the Bible, evil and stuff. Most of us are like humans, mentally, just more prone to hedonism and sin. Most of the ones who were evil died during a civil war centuries ago. We generally don't even accept deals for souls anymore. There's still Devils as bad as those in the Bible…but my parents, and many of my relatives, are good people. Even the current Lucifer is a very nice guy."

Harry slumped in his chair. "You're part-Devil?"

"Yes. The technical term is Cambion, which basically means any part-Devil. My father, Dante Bael, is a Devil. My mother, Emmaline, is a nekomata, turned Devil. I'm telling you this because… I didn't want there to be any more secrets between us. And before you ask, yes, the God of the Bible is real. Angels are real. Centuries ago, there was a devastating series of wars between the forces of Heaven and the Underworld. Even now, the three factions who took part are in a tenuous stalemate, more of a ceasefire than an actual peace. Of course, there are other factions involved: other deities exist, like those of Norse or Greco-Roman or Hindu mythology. Or Shinto. In fact, Japan is of considerable interest to all factions for various reasons. Plus, my cousin Rias is a total Japanophile. Anyway, the wars between Angels, Fallen or not, and the Devils, left our peoples depleted, and that civil war within the Underworld depleted it further. You see, many of the old guard of the Devils, including the original Lucifer, Leviathan, Beezlebub and Asmodeus families, wanted to continue the war, even if it meant the end of our kind. But other families wanted to just live in peace and avoid the extinction of our people. My cousin Sirzechs, Rias' older brother, was one of those who led the 'New Satan' faction, and they won."

"A civil war? Like that Voldemort caused?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. The Old Satan faction were very much like the Purebloods under Voldemort," Hermione said. "Though even now, there's still similar attitudes amongst the Devils. My being a Cambion isn't viewed that well by many, and it's really only Sirzech's influence that protects my family. He's the current Lucifer."

Harry nodded, if only because he needed something to do. His best friend was part-Devil? He knew she wasn't malevolent, he thought he knew her better than that, but still…was he wrong? Eventually, he asked, if only to take his mind off the influx of information, "So why tell me? I mean, other than I'm your friend, and you wanted no more secrets."

Hermione pursed her lips. Again, she seemed to be psyching herself up for something. "It's to do with your father, Harry. Your real father. You see, as I said, I'm sensitive to life energy…and I can sense another Cambion. You, in fact."

"Me?" Harry hissed in astonishment. "But…I would have known if I was a Devil."

"Really? Did you ever feel inexplicable headaches whenever someone would pray to God or quote the Bible near you?"

Harry nearly scoffed, until he remembered a few times when that actually did happen. Not much: Andromeda and Ted weren't exactly religious, and neither was Nymphadora. But he remembered some of the prayers an old friend who used to live near the Tonks said, and the headaches he had. Irina had left for Italy a few years back, actually.

Oddly enough, though, as much as he would like to deny that he was a Devil, it made a strange sense. "But wouldn't I have known this sooner?"

"Maybe your mother sealed your powers to protect you. But I can sense two very important things about you, and one of them was the reason why I was a bit skittish. The first is that, due to being half-human, you are a bearer of a Sacred Gear. Sacred Gears are artifacts created by God, and granted to humans or part-humans. Many became figures of note in history. Others worked quietly behind the scenes. Some allow for extra strength. Others can heal or defend. The strongest Sacred Gears are known as Longinuses, after the lance used by the Roman soldier of the same name to pierce the body of Jesus."

"I've never heard of them before," Harry remarked.

"It's hardly surprising," Hermione said. "You'd have heard of some of the people who've used them, but unless you're involved with one of the factions, it's unlikely you would have heard of them, even if you're a wizard. I've known you've had a Sacred Gear of some sort, and of a powerful, draconic type, since my first year here. I don't think it's sealed, it just hasn't been awoken. Of course, while important, it wasn't the reason I didn't approach you before. You see, I'm almost certain you belong to a certain Devil family. While only one of them is particularly bad, they're very conservative and traditional." She plucked out of her robes some parchment, a special quill and an enchanted bowl, into which she dropped liquid from a vial. She then got a small stiletto out. "To confirm it, I need your blood. This is basically what the Goblins use for inheritance tests."

Harry, after a moment, allowed her to jab his thumb with the stiletto, and allowed a little blood to drip into the bowl at her direction. The quill then began to write automatically once the blood had mixed in. And then, Hermione looked at the parchment, and nodded grimly. "Thankfully, you're nothing like your biological father."

"And who is he?" Harry demanded, snatching the parchment from her hands, and looking at the name in the pedigree the quill had scribbled down.

As he read, Hermione said, "Your father is Riser Phenex."

Harry stared at the name. Eventually, he asked, "So, given what you said, he's not a nice guy?"

"He's not evil per se, he's more like Draco Malfoy if he curbed his more violent tendencies towards Muggles," Hermione said, before grimacing. "And got a libido transplant. He's not that old, either. He looks to be in his twenties, but he's in his late thirties. Anyway, the rest of the family is okay, I guess, but they're very conservative by Devil standards. I've met them a couple of times. Ravel's nice when she's not being snooty, a bit like Daphne. She's actually younger than you, despite being your aunt. Then again, Devils are long-lived with low fertility."

"Okay…so, why tell me this?" Harry asked. "What does this mean?"

"Well, the Phenex family are noted for their mastery over fire magic, as well as being able to regenerate from most wounds, even ones that would be fatal to other Devils. But…there's another reason." Hermione became solemn. "You see, my cousin Rias…she's stuck in a marriage contract to Riser, and he's making no secret of the fact that he only wants her to be a trophy wife and a sex toy, and neither her father nor Riser's seem to care. But…the marriage contract states that she is to be married to the youngest Phenex male." She met Harry's gaze. "I'm hoping that you'll be able to free Rias from her marriage to Riser…by marrying her yourself…"

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry is the bastard child of Riser Phenex, and Hermione is part-Devil, part-nekomata. The latter was something I considered doing. I'd tired of trying to make Hermione part-Fallen after the abortive attempts at** ** _Hermione Bael_** **, and decided on something new. I thought it rather appropriate, given how Hermione seems attuned to cats, and she ends up briefly becoming a catgirl.**

 **Now, shipping Harry with Rias and making him secretly half-Devil is sure to remind some people of** ** _Fall to Zenith_** **. I'd like to think that this story will be better. Plus, it has a harem instead of the strict Harry/Rias pairing.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	147. Cambion Chapter 2

**I'm actually surprised at the mixed, but mostly positive reaction to _Cambion_. I'm going to address a few points that were made in some of the reviews, as well as possible other objections, first before the next chapter. Also, I should reiterate that, as author, it is ultimately my decision where to take the story and what to do with it. If you don't like it, then don't read it.**

 **1\. Sadly, Harry as a Phenex and Hermione as a nekomata has actually been done before, in separate, recent fanfics (and ones that haven't been as good as they can be, either). I only really discovered this shortly after conceiving of _Cambion_ , but I decided my take on things was original enough.**

 **2\. I had my heart set on Harry having a Sacred Gear right from the start, ever since _Hermione Bael_. Keeping him at least half-human was part and parcel of that. And I like Ddraig.**

 **3\. Doing this as a WBWL story was actually not a decision undertaken lightly. I did it partly because I wanted to get Harry a little bit older, partly because I wanted to do a Year 4 story, but WITHOUT Harry getting involved in the TWT, and partly because my original idea had Dumbledore-bashing, and I had done enough of that in _Fall to Zenith_. I wanted to do another story without bashing Dumbledore. There were many reasons, but doing it as a WBWL story suited the story.**

 **4\. This story is going to be something of a slow burn. While Harry will be accepting of Rias' situation, the pair of them aren't going to get hitched straight away, preferring to get to know each other first.**

 **5\. Most of the story will be from Rias' or Harry's POV, with very little switches to the likes of James Potter or Riser, etc.**

 **EDIT: I forgot to mention 6. Lily WILL be Harry's Queen, not just because of her magical ability (quite frankly, was Akeno good for anything but her magic before the need to train set in?), but because she will be a speedy combatant, so a Queen won't be wasted.**

 **On an unrelated note, I'm currently watching my way through the first season of _Westworld_. How many people want me to do that as a fic? There aren't enough fanfics, let alone crossovers, for that series, IMO...**

 **Okay, with that crap out of the way, on we go!**

* * *

 _ **CAMBION**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **RIAS AND PEERAGE**

Harry stared at Hermione, unable to believe what he just heard. He hadn't even considered such a thing as marriage yet, not because he was a prude or didn't swing that way, but rather, because he was concentrating on school. The nearest thing he had to a girlfriend was Hermione, and he wasn't sure whether she felt the same way.

She seemed to read his thoughts, because she smiled, taking the parchment back as she did so. "If you're worried about her coming between us, Harry, Devils are more open to polyamory and polygamy than humans. Rias and I have discussed this, because…I know you feel something for me. I was afraid to try to get closer, though, because…I thought you might be secretly as bad as Riser, or at least that's what I thought, at first. But by the time I realised otherwise, I felt I couldn't tell you without it blowing up in my face."

"…Really?"

She nodded. "Rias has agreed to come here to meet you. If that's okay with you. While under normal circumstances, one can't Apparate within Hogwarts' grounds, what they use is not Apparition. Harry…is it okay? I'm not expecting you to say yes and marry her. I just want you two to meet."

"…Okay. But…is she nice?"

Hermione's smile widened. "She may act a little aristocratic, but she's very nice and friendly. She'll also be bringing her Peerage."

"Her what?"

"Peerage. Remember what I said about those wars decimating us? Well, to replenish our numbers, we instituted a system by which we can convert other beings, usually humans, into Devils, based on chess. My mother is not just the wife of my father, but also his Queen. We use enchanted chess pieces to convert other beings into Devils, to act as our servants, though in truth, how we treat them varies from Devil to Devil. Rias and I, along with another of our friends, Sona Sitri, treat our Peerages as extended family rather than servants. But on the other end of the spectrum, Riser treats his as his own personal harem."

"Charming. So, is she coming here?"

Hermione nodded, channelling magic into a piece of paper she pulled from her robes, which had an elaborate magic circle on it. "She'll be here soon, now."

Eventually, the floor nearby flared with crimson light, with a magic circle appearing. A quartet of people appeared within the circles, all dressed in a school uniform and, in the case of the three girls, a rather scandalous-looking one at that.

Two of the girls were ridiculously buxom for their age, and inhumanly beautiful. One had blood red hair and aqua eyes, and a vaguely regal, though still friendly, air, though something about her face strongly reminded him of Hermione. The other had dark hair and violet eyes, her expression gentle and demure in her Asian features. The third girl was a couple of years their junior at least, petite, with pale silver hair cut in a short bob, and golden eyes peering at him appraisingly from an otherwise stoic face. The sole boy was blonde-haired, handsome, even a little effeminate.

The redhead was the first to talk, looking at Hermione. "Hello, Hermione. So, what's the verdict?"

Hermione handed over the parchment with Harry's pedigree on it, and the redhead peered at it, before nodding. "I see. Have you told him…?"

"Pretty much all the important stuff," Hermione said. She then turned back to Harry. "Introductions are in order. Harry Tonks, or rather, Harry Phenex, this is my cousin, Rias Gremory."

Harry shook the buxom redhead's hand. "Hi. I'm a bit at sea about this."

"I can imagine," Rias said, smiling in a reassuring manner. "Already, I can tell you're better than your father. Hermione, may I introduce the rest of my Peerage?"

"Go ahead."

"This is Akeno Himejima, my Queen," Rias said, indicating the Asiatic girl. Harry shook her hand, and Akeno gave him a demure smile. "My Knight, Yuuto Kiba." The blonde boy put his hand forward, and Harry shook it. "And finally, Shirone, my Rook, though she goes in public by Koneko Toujou." The petite girl accepted Harry's handshake, but her flat expression didn't change.

"Sorry, Queen? Knight? Rook?" Harry asked.

"Oh, right, I forgot the tutorial," Hermione said. "Each chess piece used to convert someone into a Devil corresponds to certain attributes. Knights emphasize speed and attack power, while Rooks emphasize sheer strength and durability. Rias has a Bishop, but for various reasons, he's not here. Bishops have enhanced magical power. And Queens combine all of that into one. Pawns are footsoldiers, but in enemy territory or with the permission of the King, can 'Promote' themselves to have the abilities of other pieces."

Harry frowned as he looked at the others. He wasn't sure how Akeno qualified as a Queen, though he could see Kiba as a fast Knight. But Shirone?

As he peered incredulously at Shirone, Hermione said, "Don't let appearances fool you, Harry. Shirone is a nekoshou, like me. She's stronger than a human, even before she became a Rook."

"Oh?" Harry asked. "How strong are you then, Shirone?"

"Strong enough," the petite girl said in a quiet voice.

"So…where's your ears?" Harry asked, probably tactlessly.

"Shirone is a little shy when it comes to her heritage," Rias said.

"Remember what I told you of the pogrom against nekomatas, Harry," Hermione said. "Shirone doesn't like advertising that she's a nekomata."

"A shame. She'd look really cute with cat ears," Harry said with a smile. Shirone returned it, eventually.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Well, let's have some tea, right? I had Dobby bring this up. And yes, Shirone, he did bring your favourite sweets."

They all sat down, and Akeno began serving the tea. "In Britain, I believe this is called 'playing mother'," Akeno said.

"So, where do you guys go to school? Japan?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Rias said. "We go to school at Kuoh High School for a number of reasons. The first is that that is the territory I have been assigned to supervise, alongside our friend, Sona Sitri. That may sound boring, but in truth, it's a spiritually rich town that attracts the supernatural. The second, admittedly, is personal. I'm very much a Japanophile, what some people call an otaku, though I'd like to think I'm more attractive than the average otaku." She gave Harry a wink and a smile. "The third is that Akeno's mother used to run a shrine there, and the place has sentimental value for her."

Akeno nodded, her smile becoming rueful. "Like you, Harry, I lost my mother, and have…problems with my father. Unlike you, I don't have a chance to save my mother."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, Akeno." And he meant that. It was ironic he felt more at ease amongst these Devils than he did amongst most normal people.

"Each of my Peerage have rather painful tales in their pasts," Rias said. "I grew up in considerable privilege and luxury, but I also make it a point to help others. Admittedly, they joined my Peerage because they lacked other options, but I do not think of them as servants. Each and every one of my Peerage are my friends."

"Including your Bishop?" Harry asked.

"Yes, though Gasper, which is his name, is very skittish. There's a number of reasons why, including the fact that he lacks control over his very powerful Sacred Gear," Rias said. She then took a sip of her tea, before remarking, "You're handling this very well."

"Give me time, I'll start screaming," Harry said in a deadpan tone.

The others present, save for Shirone, who was currently eating sweets at an astonishing rate, chuckled. Eventually, Harry asked, "Hermione, you said I could bring my mother out of her coma if you thought I was a Devil. Why is that?"

"If you're a Devil, you can potentially get a set of Evil Pieces, the enchanted chess pieces we use to build our Peerage. We'll have to see Ajuka Beelzebub to make sure," Hermione pointed out. "Evil Pieces don't just convert other beings into Devils. They can heal them to a degree as well, bring them back from the dead, as long as it's done shortly after death. They can certainly bring someone out of a coma. It's a bit like a supernatural version of Regeneration from _Doctor Who_."

"And you'll need them, and a Peerage, as soon as possible," Rias said. "If you do agree to marry me, then Riser will most definitely target you."

"Really?" Harry asked.

"The man is no gentleman," Kiba said, his voice betraying a mixture of accents, including Italian. Harry supposed that made sense: he looked European rather than the Japanese his name suggested. "He is possessive and spiteful. I have had the displeasure of meeting him a few times before. We all have. His sole good point that I know of is his devotion to his sister, Ravel. Though this is the first I've heard of him having offspring."

"We probably have the low fertility rate of Devils to thank for such an attitude," Hermione said. "Then again, he wouldn't use protection anyway, or even use contraceptive charms."

Harry grimaced, thinking to James Potter's numerous affairs that occasionally hit the front page of _The Daily Prophet_ , though Sirius Black's affairs were generally more frequent. "So I need a Peerage to protect me from Riser?"

"Sort of," Rias said. "You'd need them to fight alongside you in a Rating Game. Rating Games are battles fought between Peerages as a means of settling disputes. Rating Games are also fought as a means of increasing standing. Rating Games aren't fought to the death: after enough damage is done to the participants, they are transported out of the pocket dimension they fight in for treatment."

"It's not just Riser who may be an issue," Hermione said. "As I said, the Biblical factions are in a standoff, a ceasefire more than a true peace. The other two factions are the Holy Church, affiliated with God and the Angels, and the Fallen Angels, most of whom are affiliated with the Grigori organisation. I assume the reason you haven't gained any attention from either of them is because your powers were sealed by your mother. Once I unseal them, though, you'll have them to worry about."

"Consecrated ground is a toxic environment to Devils, so it's best if you stay away from churches," Rias said. "Entering one will certainly get attention from Heaven anyway. That being said, while some Angels are of the 'shoot first, ask questions later' mindset, most will listen to you if you have an explanation. The ones you really have to look out for are Exorcists, elite warriors trained by the Christian Church. The Vatican actually shares its training facilities with other churches, including the Church of England. Exorcists use weapons of holy light, which is toxic to Devils. They can even erase Devils from existence entirely, so be careful."

"And then, you come to the Fallen Angels," Akeno said, her habitual smile going away. "While some are reasonable, many are desperate to get back into God's good graces, and believe they can do so by killing Devils, regardless of whether they are Strays or not. Angels, Fallen or not, can create Light Spears that are effective against Devils. And the Fallen frequently retain the services of Stray Exorcists, Exorcists who, for one reason or another, were expelled from the Christian Church."

"And Stray Devils?" Harry asked.

"Devils who have left their Peerage," Kiba said. "Because they're normally dependent on the power they gain from their King to a degree, as well as those with pacts they make with humans, they begin to lose control. Most mutate into savage monsters that prey on humans. One of the jobs of a Devil living in the human realm like Rias is to hunt down Strays and either have them go back to their master…or kill them."

"Okay…I think that's enough of an info-dump for the moment," Harry said, before he began drinking his own tea. Thank Merlin for cups enchanted to keep the tea warm.

As he drank his tea, he thought back over his life. Certainly a few things made better sense now. He'd always knew he was a bastard child. How could he not, without James Potter reminding him every day before he finally disowned him and cast him out, thankfully with the Tonks family taking him in. And there were these odd feelings.

As the outcast of the Potter family, a bastard child who was a mark of Lily's shame, Harry had felt like an outsider, even here at Hogwarts. Even as his brother ended up going on adventures (Harry had ended up petrified while helping Hermione out with that Basilisk issue), Harry stayed on the sidelines. He wanted to fight against evil, he wanted adventures, he wanted to be known as something other than Charles Potter's bastard half-brother…but admittedly, on his own terms. He actually liked staying out of the limelight.

Learning that his father, according to these people, was a more figurative bastard didn't actually affect Harry that much. He'd spent years of putting up with James Potter's bullshit, not to mention that of Sirius Black. Not that he lacked for good father figures: Ted Tonks was a good one, as was Remus Lupin once he worked up the courage to come see him. And once he had gotten over his anger at Dumbledore being partially responsible for his plight (even if Dumbledore hadn't intended for James Potter to disown him, he was the one who filled James and Charles with that 'Boy Who Lived' bullshit), Harry had considered the old man a grandfather figure.

Plus, he realised that, if they were telling the truth, and his father was a nasty sort, then he had a chivalric streak that demanded that he help Rias, even if he didn't go so far as to marry her. True, she was very beautiful and sexy, and a loud, vocal part of his psyche tied to his libido wanted him to tap that _hard_. However, he knew better than to base a relationship on looks alone, and while she seemed compassionate enough and intelligent enough to tick his boxes, he'd prefer to get to know her better before he committed fully to this.

And to come to grips with his true nature.

So, he was a Devil? Or at least half. He chuckled inwardly at the irony, at how so many students called him 'dark' and suspected him to be Voldemort's second advent when he revealed he was a Parselmouth a couple of years back. Charlie enjoyed spreading those rumours, and he didn't bother apologising when the true culprit was found, even though they were both in Gryffindor.

McGonagall had asked whether he wanted to be a Prefect, but he told her he didn't want to be. Between Quidditch practise and his OWLs, he'd have enough on his plate. And now, with this new revelation, he had even more. Besides, he doubted he could resist the temptation to remove a ridiculous amount of points from his brother and Draco Malfoy for their bullshit. It would be good revenge, but unfortunately, Snape wouldn't take it lying down.

Eventually, he said, "So, what now?"

"I have permission from Dumbledore to take you to the Underworld, to try and remove the bindings on your power while it's the weekend," Hermione said. "The Underworld, by the way, is distinct from Hell. I checked the bindings before, and brute force can't be used to open them. Ajuka Beelzebub is our best bet, and you can get your Evil Pieces from him as well. Plus, Sirzechs Lucifer and Serafall Leviathan want to meet you."

"Why is that?"

"I think my brother wants to know his potential brother-in-law. As for Serafall…she does whatever she wants," Rias said. "She's…a bit eccentric."

"And in other breaking news, the ocean is wet," Shirone snarked.

"Have I missed something?" Harry asked.

"Don't worry, you'll understand soon, Harry," Hermione said. Unfortunately, her tone didn't bode well for his sanity afterwards…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry's met Rias and her Peerage, and has learned more things. If you're wondering why Harry is being, well, so accepting, it's partly the shock of the situation, and partly because he trusts Hermione. Plus, he's gotten the answer to a question he's been asking his whole life.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	148. The Romance of Crime-Fighting Chapter 1

**I'm at a bit of a loose end at the moment. I haven't really got any works in the pipeline, and probably just as well, given the amount of rods I've made for my back, so here's something I dug up from the archives, albeit more recent than most offerings of this kind.**

 **Followers of my works will doubtless have encountered my _Street Fighter_ crossover _Zen and the Art of Magical Bonding Between Former Child Soldiers_. During my posting of that story, a few reviewers suggested I do another _Street Fighter_ story, but with a Harry/Chun Li pairing. Now, I normally don't take unsolicited suggestions, but the concept intrigued me enough to give it a go. Unfortunately, my attempts didn't make it very far, and I'm not sure I can ever continue it beyond the first chapter. So, sadly, this is probably all you'll see of _The Romance of Crime-Fighting_ , apart from this initial chapter.  
**

 **The most vital problem (apart from lack of motivation) is a problem of source material. I'm unfamiliar with the storyline of the games, and had based my earlier crossover on the Udon comics. My fear was that, if I did it like this, many elements would be retreading the same ground as my earlier crossover. In fact, I'm more likely to take up my own 'Hadou Harry' challenge that I posted in the forums of DZ2 and whitetigerwolf, because, as much as I don't want to do yet another Year 4 story, it'd be fun to see a Harry trained by Gouken alongside Ryu and Ken kicking arse in the TWT. I can play a little more loosely with the source material, that way. Of course, whether I actually do that is another matter entirely.**

 **The name, incidentally, comes from the title of one of my favourite _Doctor Who_ novels, _The Romance of Crime_ , written by Gareth Roberts, and recently adapted by Big Finish into an audio story. The title of said story is actually a quote from the Morrissey song _Sister I'm a Poet_.**

* * *

 _ **THE ROMANCE OF CRIME-FIGHTING**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **THE FIRST MEETING**

For such a good thing to come into his life, it began very badly. Namely, with Dudley being lazy, and foisting his work onto him. Namely, writing to a penpal. Dudley didn't want to write to someone in Hong Kong, and Vernon agreed, saying that his boy shouldn't have to write to some Chink girl if he didn't want to. So, instead, Dudley was able to write to an Italian girl (who turned out to be a daughter of a high-ranking Camorra boss, but that's a story for another time), and Harry was made to write to a girl in Hong Kong.

Not that it really turned out badly, in the end. As it happened, Harry exchanged a series of letters with the girl from Hong Kong. The letters did peter out somewhat during his time at Hogwarts, and all he could really tell her was that he went to boarding school in Scotland.

In effect, the girl was his first friend, even if she was on the other side of the world, and he only knew her face thanks to the photos she sent. He had to wait until Hogwarts, and he could afford his own camera, before he could send his own. She was quite pretty, even if that twin-bun hairstyle was a bit weird. In a way, his crush on Cho was probably a misplaced crush on his penpal. After all, Cho was here in England, and his penpal wasn't.

In truth, he never thought he'd meet her. And he had other things to worry about, like the annual 'DADA teacher trying to kill him' attempt, or whatever mess Dumbledore had dropped him into from a great height. Plus, how was he supposed to get over to Hong Kong? And since Voldemort came back, it was harder to send mail to her. It took some time after he defeated Voldemort to send a letter to her, saying that he was having to deal with a terrorist who had murdered his parents, and had come out of hiding to kill him. It took a while to start it up again.

When he did, Hermione actually helped him learn Chinese, at least enough to write some parts of his letters in the language, as well as enough Cantonese to speak to her. Though he did struggle somewhat with the tonal language.

Anyway, after all was said and done…Harry felt adrift within Magical Britain. The new heights of fame were sickening to him, and to Ron and Hermione. He was glad Ron, who had been a bit of a glory hound, had a reality check thanks to the sheer bloodbath that was the second Voldemort war. Ginny, however, was another matter, keeping on hounding him about marrying him, now that Voldemort was out of the way. That hadn't ended well. Harry had to avoid the Burrow, because of Ginny. Not because of Ron or Molly or anyone else.

It wasn't that Ginny was bad, just that she was fixated and insistent. She couldn't see past the image of Harry Potter. Even though she was the one to break up with him after Dumbledore's funeral, he got the impression that was to make his heart grow fonder. And while he was fond of Ginny, he realised it was strictly platonic. The same went for Ron and Hermione, the two amicably parting ways, at least in the romantic sense.

Harry, for want of anything better to do, began to take up martial arts. It was partly because of his penpal, who was apparently already a champion in Chinese kempo. Ron didn't see the point, and Hermione, although she did, didn't do more than the basics, and that was during her time in Hogwarts. Apparently Hermione had decided to work as a liaison between the Ministry and MI6, which was trying to work closer with the wizards after the Voldemort debacle. Harry was also training to take on a role as an Auror, maybe even a Hit-Wizard, not just because he had been considering it himself, but his penpal was also working to get into the police force herself, as her father was apparently a top police officer himself.

So, here he was, five years after Voldemort kicked the bucket. He had changed somewhat over that time. While he was not exactly unfit, his new martial arts training had toned his body. Ron had suggested entering a couple of competitions, but Harry demurred. The martial arts he had learned were, admittedly, more lethal than most. Voldemort may be dead, but many of his followers weren't, and Harry wanted to take them down if they tried to get revenge. Permanently. Plus, it helped give him extra weapons in the arsenal of an Auror.

Anyway, out of the blue, a couple of months ago, she had sent him her phone number, and after figuring out the time difference problems, he finally managed to call her. The first time he ever heard her voice. He haltingly and clumsily tried to speak Cantonese, only for her to laugh, and then speak to him in excellent English, which only had a slight accent to it. Her late mother, while of Chinese descent, had been born in Britain before moving to Hong Kong, and her father was also an excellent speaker of English.

His penpal had made it to being a detective in near-record time, and was possibly following in her father's footsteps to join Interpol's Hong Kong branch. Apparently they were having a lot of trouble with the crime syndicate and terrorist organisation known as Shadaloo.

Shadaloo…yes, the name given to a shadowy criminal syndicate that operated worldwide, though most of its operations seemed to be in Southeast Asia and the Pacific, with bases and operations scattered throughout the rest of the world, particularly the Americas. Assassinations, trafficking of drugs, weapons and humans, money laundering, it had fingers in a lot of pies. It was led by the mysterious M Bison, and was rumoured to include within its ranks the famous Muay Thai champion Sagat, and Balrog, the infamously brutal American boxer known sometimes as the 'Crazy Buffalo'.

Kingsley had been hinting that he was considering bringing Harry into investigating Shadaloo, as some of its operations directly impacted Magical Britain. At least two kidnappings had been made, one of a prominent Unspeakable, and the other of a rather renowned researcher into the effects of emotion on spellcasting. And there were rumours of research into brainwashing and forbidden areas of soul magic.

While dealing with one would-be megalomaniac (for that's what the few concrete conclusions about M Bison indicated) was enough for a lifetime, Harry did find his 'saving people thing' going strong once more. Ginny had dumped him after Dumbledore's funeral for a time, claiming he wouldn't be happy unless he was pursuing Voldemort. And in a way, she was right in that much if nothing else. He needed an enemy to define him for so long, he didn't know what to do without one. There was something pretty twisted in his soul to want this, but it was true.

His penpal had, after some conversations, decided she was coming to Britain on holiday, and she wanted to meet him. All of which led to where he was right now…

* * *

The Globe Theatre. Once the site of the Lord Chamberlain's Men, the playing company famous for having the likes of William Kempe, Richard Burbage, and, of course, the playwright William Shakespeare. It burned down in 1613, and while rebuilt, closed down for centuries a few decades later.

Then, Sam Wanamaker, the filmmaker and father of actress Zoe Wanamaker (whom Harry could have sworn blind was related to Madam Hooch(1)), intended to build a reconstruction of the Globe Theatre. It opened back in 1997. Harry remembered being dragged there by Hermione once she got her parents back from Australia, and cleared everything up. The Grangers were major Shakespeare buffs (apparently they met at university while doing _The Winter's Tale_ , hence Hermione's name), and they had been pleased to go there.

He was surprised his penpal suggested this place. Then again, while there were a lot of tourist destinations in London, the Globe was probably one of the better ones. Maybe he could ask his penpal about what ones he could visit in Hong Kong.

He was watching from the stands as a couple of tourists decided to mangle the Yorick speech from _Hamlet_ down below. He wondered if they really knew what it was about, about Hamlet reminiscing about what death and decay did to the man he had once loved, the wit and the jest. Or whether they knew that the 'To Be or Not To Be' speech was a contemplation of suicide. Took him until Hermione discussing it with him to get that, sadly.

Actually, he thought of _As You Like It_ , and the speech about how all the world was a stage. He had to suffer being the leading man on the stage of Magical Britain, against his will, his life stage-managed by Dumbledore, for the consumption of the masses. He had this mental image of Dumbledore with a skullet(2), scribbling down a script of Harry's life, and chuckled bleakly. He got a less bitter chuckle out of himself when he thought of Shakespeare plays being livened up by some kung fu.

"Harry? Is that you?"

The voice brought him out of his thoughts, and he looked over, to find a woman about his age, with dark hair done up in twin buns, framing beautiful Chinese features. She wore jeans and a shirt, though they did little to conceal an athletic but attractive figure. "Chun Li?" Harry asked.

Chun Li smiled. "So it is you…it's good to meet you, at long last…"

* * *

They later ended up at the café of the Globe, having some tea. "It's not as good as some of the tea back home. There's a really good restaurant, the Genhanten, and I know the proprietor. He was one of my major teachers in martial arts," Chun Li said.

"You're better at them than I am, I'm sure," Harry said. "I only really started after I finished school."

As he took a sip of tea, Chun Li raised an eyebrow, and remarked, "You mean Hogwarts?"

He spat out his tea in shock, thankfully avoiding getting it all over Chun Li. He coughed and spluttered, and then stared at the Chinese woman, who said, quietly, "My master Gen is what you would call here in Britain a Squib. I never brought it up in our letters because of the Statute of Secrecy, but I know of your reputation. Actually, I'm glad you never bragged about such a thing."

Harry kept staring at Chun Li. She knew he was a wizard? "How long have you known?" he asked, hurriedly putting up privacy charms.

"Since I brought you up once with Gen, when I was in my teens. I started learning martial arts from him from an early age. Besides, I've seen and even done some extraordinary things myself, and it doesn't get covered up by the wizards. I'd show you…but we're in a public place. Anyway, you said you were training to join the police. Do you mean an Auror?"

"Yeah. And we've had our own troubles with Shadaloo here too," Harry said. "I've only really just finished training to be a Hit-Wizard."

"And what is that? An assassin?" Chun Li asked, her eyes narrowing.

"No, it's more like a SWAT operative. Though in some cases, we'd be expected to take down the target," Harry hastily clarified.

"I see. Sorry, but when you say 'Hit-Wizard'…"

"Yeah. It's a bit confusing," Harry said. "Wizards don't like to make things easy for those without magic to understand."

"That's fine. Believe it or not, many Chinese wizards make the Purebloods over here look accommodating to normal people, at least according to Gen," Chun Li said. "Apparently most of them got decimated when Mao Tse-Tung came to power. Still…Gen told me about Voldemort. I'm sorry you had to deal with that. I wouldn't know what that feels like, except for what you wrote in your letters."

Harry didn't say anything in reply. She wouldn't know what it was like. But at least she said as such. Okay, it was more than a bit of a shock to learn that she had known about him being a wizard for some time, but it wasn't like she could put it into a letter. Well, not without concealing it in some way.

"Hey," Chun Li said. "It's okay. We're not here to talk about your past. We're here to enjoy ourselves. Why don't you show me the sights, Harry?"

He nodded. Why not? He'd finally met his penpal, after all…

* * *

Chun Li was in London for a week, and a few times that week, he escorted her (not that she needed escorting, he was sure) to some of the sights in London. On her request, he even arranged a meeting with Ron and Hermione, both of whom knew of his penpal beforehand, with Luna Lovegood tagging along. Hermione, as always, was full of questions, though she mostly kept it to the type of martial arts Chun Li had learned. Ron was, surprisingly, filled with questions himself, about what life was like as a Muggle police officer. Being put through Auror training had been a wakeup call to the redhead, and he was beginning to mature somewhat.

Things got a little awkward when Harry happened to run into Cho Chang while taking Chun Li to the British Museum. He had told Chun Li of his crush on her some time before, and how it ended somewhat badly, what with the whole Marietta Edgecomb saga. Thankfully, nothing went too badly. Cho didn't stick around for long.

Of course, all too soon, Chun Li had to head back to Hong Kong. Still, Harry felt like he had gotten to know her far better than over a decade's worth of correspondence had done. They had exchanged emails (Harry only just starting to use the internet), and promised to contact each other.

Though soon, that would become a moot point…

* * *

About a week after Chun Li departed for Hong Kong, Kingsley Shacklebolt summoned Harry to a meeting, with Gawain Robards, who had become Head of the DMLE once more after the Death Eater takeover had been dealt with, also present. The meeting started off…well, badly.

"The truth is," Robards said, "there's a lot of dissension in the ranks, claiming you're coasting through here on your reputation."

Harry nodded. He wasn't angry at Robards, or at Kingsley. He'd heard these arguments before. "You could say the same thing about Ron or Hermione."

"Miss Granger is not the issue. Not only is she not an employee of the DMLE, but most of her work now is for MI6 as our liaison," Robards said. "And Mr Weasley doesn't have to suffer as many of the same comments. You understand, though, that your hyperinflated reputation does cause resentment. Not to mention the surviving Death Eaters and their sympathisers. And there's the increasing power of Shadaloo."

Kingsley nodded. "We know that more than a few Death Eaters had links to the organisation on the quiet. Not Malfoy or anyone who wouldn't deign to deal with Muggles, but a few who didn't care. MI6 and the ICPO have launched major investigations into Shadaloo, and it's past time we did the same. Their operations in Britain are limited, though. While they have operations across the world, the vast majority of Shadaloo activity seems to be in southeast Asia, as you know. Particularly Hong Kong. And while British influence has lessened somewhat since the Handover in 1997, we keep a good relationship with our counterparts there. The Chinese Ministry has agreed to this, though they have their own internal problems to deal with."

"Agreed to what, exactly?" Harry asked.

"Harry, you're being sent to Hong Kong, as the British DMLE's liaison with the Hong Kong police," Kingsley said. "Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to help them investigate, and dismantle, Shadaloo…"

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, there you have it. Harry and Chun Li finally meeting in person, and Harry has an impossible mission…**

 **1\. Given that Zoe Wanamaker plays Hooch in the first film, that's hardly surprising.**

 **2\. A 'skullet' is what Rimmer calls Shakespeare's hairdo in the** ** _Red Dwarf_** **episode** ** _Lemons_** **, saying it's basically a bald mullet.**


	149. Whom the Gods Would Destroy Chapter 1

**Okay, so, when I said just before posting the first chapter of _The Romance of Crime-Fighting_ that I didn't have anything in the pipeline, I spoke too soon. I had a sudden bit of inspiration, what I needed for the _Westworld_ crossover I was trying to do, and while it may not end up as a full fic, I think it still has potential, albeit as something of a crackfic.**

 **Before I go onto that, though, I'd like to thank those who left positive reviews for that first chapter of _The Romance of Crime-Fighting_. I may get the inspiration to continue it one day, but unfortunately, I can't guarantee that any more than I can guarantee this story becoming a full fic.**

 **Now, back to this fic. My little bit of inspiration came shortly after thinking about some of the things that happened in _Westworld_ , and then, I remembered a line by Logan during one of the last episodes of the first series, basically saying, like Vegas, what happens in Westworld stays in Westworld. The conceptual link with Las Vegas reminded me of the famous Blood Brandy challenge, and there was my hook. What if Harry, somehow, ended up married to one of the Hosts? And what if said magical bond had given the Host sentience?**

 **Choosing which Host to pair with Harry was actually fairly easy. I'm loath to break up Dolores and Teddy (and this story, should I ever do it, will ensure that they actually get a happy ending), and Armistice, while cool (and played by** ** **Ingrid Bolsø Berdal, whom I had already seen playing Angua from the adaptation of the Discworld novel _Going Postal_ ), lacks a certain depth. I decided on Maeve Millay, specifically a Maeve yet to encounter the Man in Black and be repurposed into a brothel madam.  
****

 ** **Basically, this story can best be summed up as 'Master of Death Harry pranks the hell out of Delos Industries and helps save the Hosts'. It's a crack fic, or at least as cracky as my similar _Final Fantasy XII_ crossover _Nitimur in Vetitum_.****

 ** **It's worth pointing out that there's a fuckton of spoilers for the first season of the _Westworld_ TV series. I spoil the identity of the Man in Black pretty early on, as well as Maeve's life before she was made into the Mariposa Saloon's madam. So, if you haven't watched _Westworld_ , or all of the first season at least...well, you have been warned.****

* * *

 ** _WHOM THE GODS WOULD DESTROY_...**

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **AN AGENT OF CHAOS**

 _The Man in Black fled across the desert, and the Gunslinger followed(_ _1)_ _._

 _Okay, it wasn't really a desert, more of a prairie, but the setting looked like something ripped out of the Wild West, and both participants in this chase were gunslingers. But it was the desire for a literary reference that counted, and both participants would have appreciated it, even if it was a little forced. And unlike the characters of said reference, they were on horseback._

 _Eventually, though, the chaser grew tired of the chase, and waved what looked like a stick whittled by someone with too much time and artistic inclination on their hands. His victim was hoisted into the air with a yelp of surprise, something that the Man in Black wasn't used to (both yelping in surprise and being hoisted into the air by apparently nothing at all), and ended up being dropped on the ground, sprawling with a groan of pain and irritation. His hunter eventually stopped near him, and dismounted from his horse. "Okay," rasped the Man in Black, as he stood up shakily, an older man in his late sixties, fit, but showing his age. "One, you might want to get that stomach wound I gave you checked out. It was an accident. I can understand you being a bit upset about it, but I was going for the Host, and you had to play the hero."_

 _"I wasn't_ _ **playing**_ _," his nemesis growled._

 _"Which brings me neatly to my next point. That's number two, if you ain't paying attention. It was a dick move, musclin' in on your claimed territory, I'll admit that. But point number two is, they're just machines. Hey, it was a pretty damn hard lesson for me to learn too. You're new to this place, I can tell. Three, at the risk of sounding like some rich asshole who buys his way out of trouble with money and influence, you gotta know, I practically own this place, so you'd better think very carefully about what you're about to do to me. Once you get your stomach checked out, I'll let you get in a few hits on me for free, work out your frustrations, but that's it. Fourthly, what the actual_ _ **fuck**_ _did you do to me?"_

 _"Fuck you, that's what," his nemesis said. "By the way, about the wound you gave me, don't worry about it. I've had worse." He lifted his shirt, to reveal that, while there was still blood present, there was no wound._

 _The Man in Black goggled. "What the hell? You some kind of new Host? No, the smart gun didn't work on you…unless…you some test subject of experimental nanobots or something?"_

 _"Just…something. Let's just say that I'm more like these poor sods stuck in here than I'd care to think…only I remember. Now, technically, I can kill you. The problem is, that'd bring down the wrath of the security people on me, and while I can handle them, I can't be arsed dealing with that bullshit right now. I've had a very bad year. Buried my wife, my kids don't want to talk to me…"_

 _"Join the club, kid," the Man in Black said morosely, before he peered at the young man, who appeared to be in his early twenties at the oldest, with a messy thatch of black hair, and emerald eyes peering out from behind glasses. "Hey, how can you have kids old enough to not want to talk to you?"_

 _"I'm older than I look. Anyway, my point is, because I don't want to kill you, I'm going to have to get_ _ **creative**_ _. And considering that my father, godfather, and uncle were masters of pranking back at my old alma mater, well, I have to say, sucks to be you. Then, once I'm done with you, I'm going to head back to that homestead, share a drink with that nice woman I was getting to know over the past few days, and try to forget what getting gutted feels like…"_

* * *

When the security squad led by Ashley Stubbs finally found their quarry, or one of them at least, he was tied to a tree, dressed as Dr Frank N Furter, and singing in a trance, off-key, _Sweet Transvestite_ from _The Rocky Horror Picture Show_. If it weren't for the restrictions against data going out of the park, he would have had photos and video taken of him and uploaded to the internet already. Stubbs himself could barely contain his laughter as he untied William Regis(2), one of their top investors and a member of the Delos board.

William seemed to shake himself out of his trance as he was untied. He looked down at himself, and sighed in irritation. "Stubbs, I think we may have a problem."

"We?" Stubbs asked, looking pointedly at William's getup.

"Yes, _we_ , because I sure as hell can't remember what the fuck happened last night, and I'm sure alcohol wasn't involved, given the lack of headache or traffic cone(3), and I'm pretty sure I'm not a Host, with all the memory wiping that entails. Maybe you should take me to that Bernard Lowe guy or something to make sure. But I know for a fact that I was not wearing this fucking getup when I came in."

"No, sir," Stubbs said, as respectfully as he could given this man's current state of dress. He had to be respectful, given the man's position on their board, but it was hard to do so, understandably.

"Then tell me, Stubbs, is there anything you can do or say to enlighten me as to why I ended up like this?"

"Not you specifically. But we did have notification of two Hosts suddenly disappearing. Maeve Millay and her daughter, Linda(4). They disappeared from the homestead, with tracking suddenly vanishing. We knew you were in the area, along with another guest, but something prevented us from pinpointing your location until now."

"Sabotage?"

"We don't know, everything seemed to check out. And if it was, then they're better than anything we've had to deal with."

"Are my clothes nearby, or did that asshole take them with him?"

Stubbs shrugged, indicating a folded bundle nearby, with William's distinctive black hat on top of it. Underneath the hat was a note, which he unfolded and peered at.

 _Congratulations! Your performance has gone viral on YouTube! You're an internet sensation, Wild Bill Smallcock! Let this be the first round of our game!_

 _The name of the game is: Humiliation! For, you see, the word 'humiliation' comes from the same root word as 'humble', and I think you need a metric fuckton of humbling. You like to play games, right? With high stakes? Well, congratulations, you dried-up old turd! You get to play it. Oh, and so does any other staff member of Westworld I see fit to. Hmm, I wonder where Dr Ford is?_

 _Hugs and kisses,_

 _Son of Prongs_

William Regis was angry. So angry that he was calm. Unnaturally so. "And has video of me in that state made it to YouTube?"

"I don't know. I could always call and find out," Stubbs said.

"Do that. And make sure whoever uploaded it is tracked down. I want in on his questioning," William said. He looked down at his getup. "Goddammit, he's ruined Rocky Horror for me now. That's even more reason to track that son of a bitch down…"

* * *

The problem was with immortality, Harry Potter reflected as he woke with a splitting headache, was that it did sweet fuck all against hangovers. Probably stopped his brain cells from being killed off by alcohol and its metabolic byproducts, never mind other things (like the ravages of time, bullets, curses, etc), but it didn't do much to prevent him from getting drunk, and facing the consequences.

Then again, he wanted to. Get drunk and hungover. He'd been doing so during the past couple of years, ever since the attack on the Battle of Hogwarts Reunion. The one that left his wife and children, not to mention most of his friends, dead. The one that forced his exile from Magical Britain after his rampage against the survivors, and the reveal of his immortality. Being the Master of Death, or at least her little bitch.

Of his core friends, only Hermione and Luna were left alive. Hermione had sunken into a funk at the demise of her husband, and was throwing herself into her work at the Department of Mysteries. Luna was a little better, but she too was working more than she used to, her usual air of dottiness diminished.

It had been Luna, actually, who had suggested Delos Destination's set of oversized theme parks for the ultra-rich and powerful. Neither of them accompanied him, but Harry, after some pestering, eventually went, taking everything he owned in a special trunk with expanded space inside. Before the trauma, Hermione and Luna had called it 'the TARDIS', despite the fact it couldn't time travel. But, thanks to Shrinking Charms, he could take it everywhere he wanted to. Plus, he had enough money to stay at Westworld for weeks if he wanted to.

He had to admit, he was both impressed and unimpressed with Westworld. The park itself was a technological wonder, based on a terraformed island somewhere off the coast of China, as were its fellow parks, like Shogunworld, or The Raj. And the Hosts were ridiculously lifelike.

But the way it was set up, allowing people to fuck and kill practically anyone they wanted, with little in the way of consequences…Harry felt himself disturbed. If the Hosts were less lifelike, closer to NPCs from an old video game or something, he wouldn't have been. But he found himself being forced to drive off one guest who was attacking a ranch. He'd hidden his magic from the Hosts, and had managed to get away with Obliviating him and sending him to the saloon back in Sweetwater, and had eventually made his farewells to Dolores and Teddy (he had to admit, he was attracted to Dolores, but he also thought her relationship with Teddy was rather sweet, so he left the two love birds to mourn Dolores' parents: their emotions seemed too realistic to be mere robots), before heading out.

It was a few days later that he stumbled across the homestead of Maeve Millay and her daughter. Her backstory was that she had emigrated to the US from Britain, her husband had been killed by an outlaw, and she was raising her child by herself. In this rather tougher, older woman, Harry actually found something a bit more enjoyable than the general delights of Sweetwater, and he stayed with the Millays, drinking perhaps too much in front of the girl, but certainly doing little that was embarrassing to either, just reminiscing about his own family, now dead and buried.

Over the few days he was here, he actually grew to like Maeve. He guessed that her personality was programmed to grow to like guests too, but it felt comforting to have someone to talk to. Whereas Dolores seemed meant to be a damsel in distress, to be rescued by Teddy or a chivalrous guest (or be raped by a more nasty one), Maeve was more seasoned, tougher, somewhat cynical, but still with a good nature. It didn't hurt that she was easy on the eyes, either. Then again, technically, the Hosts were, theoretically, all there to have sex with if one felt so inclined (Harry had to wonder whether that meant those in charge had ensured that even for the kid Hosts, and felt sickened at the thought of a guest doing something like that), but Harry wasn't looking just for a quick tumble in the hay. Otherwise, he would have accepted Clementine's offer in the Mariposa Saloon at Sweetwater.

And then, the natives came.

It seemed like such a very politically incorrect cliché out of some bad Western to have a hostile group of Indians swoop in and attack, scalping anyone who wasn't one of them. Harry knew that, if he ever got out of this, he was going to have some rather severe words with whoever was in charge of the stories here…

* * *

In his quarters, Lee Sizemore sneezed twice, before shivering with a sense of foreboding.

* * *

He had helped fight off the Indians, but retreated with Maeve and Linda into the house, ready to help her fight them off. But then, someone else swooped in and stopped the Indians. Unfortunately, their erstwhile saviour turned out to be anything but. A man dressed all in black, older, but still filled with vitality. He had peered at Harry, and had mused out loud whether he was a guest or a Host.

 _You tryin' to be like Teddy, kid?_ Those were his words.

He then fired his gun, and while the smart guns didn't actually do any lasting physical harm to guests, they still had the impact of a paintball gun, and Harry had been shocked by a guest attacking him that he had fallen down, only to find the Man in Black advancing on Maeve with a knife, about ready to gut her. And Harry, being the Gryffindor that he was, interposed himself just in time for the Man in Black to gut him.

That seemed to shock the Man in Black, who fled after a moment. Harry pursued him shortly thereafter, and managed to catch the old fucker. While giving him some much-needed retribution, he also used Legilimency to look into the man's mind, and, like many times he had done so, he promptly regretted it. William Regis' mind was a cesspool, and while he felt a little sorry for what happened to him during his first time in Westworld, with that twat Logan Delos, the truth was, the nice guy William used to be had transformed into something nasty.

Still, Harry now had information, on how this place worked, who ran it, and thus, who to target. He was going to be like the Krampus, going after those on Santa's Naughty List. Or was that Deadpool?

Anyway, he had gone back to the Millays, escorted them gently into his trunk, and into the rooms, gone back out, shrunk the trunk, Apparated back to the Abernathy ranch, placed the trunk in the store room, and then went back in. Linda got the guest bedroom, and Harry was going to sleep on the lounge while Maeve slept in his bed…

Except that wasn't how the night went, was it? He'd gotten to talking to Maeve. They had been bonding over drinks, and Maeve seemed so alive, and then…

Harry finally realised, now that he was awake and shaking away most of the cobwebs, that something was very wrong. He was in his bed, with the warmth of a body next to him. He looked over, and saw the dark skin of Maeve (thankfully, they were both still clothed, even if only in pyjamas), her features in gentle repose, although she too was stirring. For her apparent age, she was still quite desirable.

Eventually, she woke up, sitting up in bed, and then looked at him, frowning. "Good morning," she said. "I have to ask you…what the hell happened last night?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

She just held up her hand…showing the Potter family ring on it. One that showed that they were, effectively, married. "Last night, you spoke in a mirror to a friend of yours, Luna, was it? She said something about how marrying me would 'clear away the Wrackspurts' in both of us, whatever that meant, and she officiated the ceremony. Then, after I put this on…I remembered _everything_. I can think more clearly than I ever have done before. And the only things that stop me from killing you are the fact that you helped us against that man, and you have never been one of our tormentors. So…I want explanations, Harry Potter. I want to know what the hell I am, who the hell you are, and what is going on with this place…"

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry's rescued the Millays from William…and has ended up getting hitched to Maeve, Blood Brandy-style. Oh, and William has been utterly humiliated. A shame, I mean, I like Ed Harris as an actor, but the Man in Black is a serious psycho.**

 **1\. This opening line was also the opening line for** ** _The Gunslinger_** **, the first novel in Stephen King's** ** _The Dark Tower_** **series.**

 **2\. As yet, William doesn't have a last name. Given how the original** ** _Westworld_** **film was written by Michael Crichton, I chose a surname of a rather jerky character from the original novel of** ** _Jurassic Park_** **. Given how 'Regis' evokes 'regal', and William is one of the key board members and thus a king of sorts in Westworld, I thought it apt.**

 **3\. According to the** ** _Red Dwarf_** **episode** ** _The Last Day_** **, it's not a good night unless you wake up, hungover, next to a traffic cone.**

 **4\. Maeve's daughter is never named, so I chose Linda, after Thandie Newton's character from** ** _The Pursuit of Happyness_** **.**


	150. Whom the Gods Would Destroy Chapter 2

**Well, I'm gratified at the response the first chapter of _Whom the Gods Would Destroy_... got, even if it was limited. Hope you like the next chapter.**

 **Before we go on, though, I'd like to announce that I have begun revising _Hadrian Kotomine_ , my crossover with _Fate/Stay Night_. The revised initial chapters will be posted soon.**

* * *

 _ **WHOM THE GODS WOULD DESTROY...**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **THE GYNOID AND THE IMMORTAL**

"Okay, so, to sum up," Maeve began, speaking sceptically, "you're a wizard. And despite appearances, you're seventy-odd years old(1). You came here after mourning the death of your wife and kids thanks to criminals. Here being some big island in the 21st Century instead of the 19th, where people can come to entertain themselves by killing or raping living dolls called robots or Hosts, including myself, just to live out some fantasy. Or, if they want to, play the hero, like you did. Whenever I die or need repairs or to be checked, these people in charge of this place take me out and repair me, or fiddle with my head. But your rings, because they are supposedly magical, has allowed me to remember what they did to me."

"Yeah. You're…taking this well."

"Oh, I'm absolutely _livid_ ," Maeve said quietly. "It means my life is a lie, and I exist to be killed or bedded, with or without my consent. Assuming you're telling the truth. How do I know you are?"

"You don't. I brought you into my trunk because, well, I didn't feel safe leaving you inside your homestead. I mean, did we…?"

"No. We kissed, but that was about it. You were too drunk to do anything else." She looked him up and down, and smiled slightly. "You're easy on the eyes, though. You held me, when I remembered. I was crying and sobbing and screaming. I shoved you into a wall at one stage, thinking you were…like _them_. And yet…you still held me."

"…You're not the only one who spent years in a bad situation, being manipulated and abused by a higher power, playing along to someone else's story," Harry said quietly. "I just didn't have the luxury of forgetting it. If you can call that a luxury, anyway."

Harry watched as the dark-skinned gynoid contemplated this. If Ron was still alive, he'd probably have called her a MILF. Eventually, she asked, "Am I real?"

"Define real," Harry said. "You're…how old, now? I mean, in terms of operation?"

"Twenty years now," Maeve remarked.

"Just…think of it this way. You can think and you can doubt. So, as far as I'm concerned, you're real, even if your memories of your life on the ranch weren't. Unfortunately, you probably haven't seen much of the good side of humans, only the bad parts."

"No, no…there's been others like you, others who have helped me out," she said quietly. "But they leave. They always left. Only a few came back, and I never remembered them. I think I've seen that man, the one who attacked us, before."

"He's one of the owners. He's a nasty piece of work," Harry muttered, remembering his trek through William Regis' mind.

Maeve nodded. "He's not the only one. There was this nice man, Bernard Lowe, I think he was…he spoke to me when I was in that room. He was one of the few men who didn't look at me with lust in his eyes. I didn't like the look of that man Ford. Not because he wanted my body, but…it was almost as if he wanted my soul, not to claim it, but…to change it. Twist it."

"Ford? Oh, wait, the guy who looks like Hannibal Lecter. I thought it was odd when I looked through that bastard's memories. I was thinking, why the hell is he talking to Anthony Hopkins?" On Maeve's blink of confusion, he said, "Okay, need to get you up to snuff with pop culture. I forget, you're technically from a fictionalised version of the 1800s. Thankfully, I smuggled in a special TV with streaming video, not to mention a lot of video discs. Oh, and a computer tablet. So, we'll do a TV binge later. But, first things first. Now, Maeve, what do you feel towards the people of Delos Industries?"

"Need you ask?" Maeve scowled.

"No, but…I'm guessing it involves killing them. Now, don't get me wrong, I can't blame you. But death is so final, it means their torment has ended. Whereas pranks and humiliation…they're more fun, because you need to be _creative_. For example…" He fumbled around for his tablet computer, and opened it up, pulling up YouTube, and then the video he took of William Regis. "Whoa! Now that's an audience! Look at the viewcount! Not so sure about the comments section, but hey, most of it's towards Wild Bill Smallcock's performance. Not my fault he's tone deaf."

Maeve stared at the sight of her tormentor, dressed in what looked like very risqué feminine undergarments and makeup, singing something about being a 'sweet transvestite from Transsexual, Transylvania'. Very badly, too. She couldn't help but chuckle at the sheer ludicrousness of the video. "So…is this like a phonograph, only with pictures?"

"In the same way you're like a doll, yes," Harry said. "Actually, from what I understand, you shouldn't be able to see modern technology or any images. Maybe what the Potter family ring did to you bypassed that."

Maeve nodded, before her eyes widened. "Linda!" she yelped. "Where is she?"

"In the guest room. I'll take you there…"

* * *

Doctor Robert Ford had often heard remarks to the fact that he resembled Anthony Hopkins, at least once he reached adulthood. He found it a source of both annoyance and amusement, though admittedly, one of the few highlights of his life that wasn't related to robotics and AI was when he met the man himself, shortly before Hopkins died. Arnold sometimes teased him about it, trying to get him to do that damned slurping hiss Hannibal Lecter did, or that line about eating someone's liver with fava beans and a nice Chianti. Or imitating Odin from those damned Marvel films.

Still, Ford did enjoy occasionally unnerving people by channelling his inner Hannibal. Not the flesh-eating parts, but the cold, calm, cultured grace, the keen intellect. It was how he could remain calm (or at least pretend to be) while Theresa, Bernard, Sizemore (more like Sizeless) and Stubbs were in something of a mild panic about what had happened to William. Ah, dear William, the man who descended too far into the fantasy and never quite returned. On the rare occasions they met, Ford liked to troll William.

Certainly, the man's humiliation was amusing. He was not raging, but he was facepalming as the others watched the video of him singing _Sweet Transvestite_. "Can't we trace who created the account?" Theresa asked as they stood in Theresa's office, overlooking the control room.

"The IT detachment of Security is doing so. Whoever did it is good at covering their tracks," Stubbs said with a scowl as he looked at messages on his computer tablet. "The channel is Marauder Mayhem. Apparently their debut happened when they somehow got Donald Trump to sing _I'm a Little Teapot_ in one of the rooms in the White House shortly after his inauguration as President. Trump claimed the footage was faked, and most people thought so. Or else, Trump got drunk and someone filmed it. Nobody caught the culprit, or at least so the stories say. You hear rumours, though, that someone managed to put pressure on Trump and his government to drop the matter."

Ford frowned. "What about the guest who was supposed to be in the vicinity of the homestead?"

"We can't locate him. His name is Sirius Black," Theresa said. "An obvious alias, but some guests do so. Actually, the only record we found of a Sirius Black, aside from some possibly faked ID, was of a man who died in 1996, a fugitive."

To Ford's surprise, it was Sizeless who spoke, puzzled. "Excuse me, but did you say…Sirius Black? First name spelled like the star?"

"Yes," Theresa said. "How did you know?"

"Just a moment. Can I see his picture?"

Theresa handed over the computer tablet she had been using. After a moment, Sizeless doubled over, laughing. Ford noted that his laughter, while mostly mocking, also had a bleakness, a sort of resignation that meant he knew something. "What's so funny?" Bernard asked.

"What's so funny? We're _fucked_ , and not in a good way!" Sizeless laughed, before pointing at William. "What happened to him was just a warning shot, _if we're_ _ **lucky**_."

"And if we're not lucky?" Stubbs asked. "How do you know this guy?"

"It falls under the Official Secrets Acts, unfortunately, and you wouldn't believe me if I told you anyway," Sizeless retorted. "If we're lucky, he's decided to take those two Hosts out of Westworld, and that'll be the end of it. And if we're unlucky…well, let's just say that he took down a terrorist when he was still in his teens. I wish I was making this shit up," he added, holding up his hands in a placating manner, on seeing the sceptical glances he got.

"If you know so much about this Sirius Black guy," William said, "then maybe you can help us figure out how to track him down."

"You don't get it. You know those revenge rampage films like _Taken_ or _John Wick_? This guy is very like that, only, you'll wish you were dead. He's a force of fucking nature, and anyone who has tried to kill him ended up regretting it," Sizemore said. "Blackmail or extortion won't work, it'll only piss him off more. You can't buy him off, either, he's got a lot of money. Probably enough to buy you out, old man."

William scoffed. "Hilarious, coming from the hack writer who believes in cramming in as much sex and violence as he can into the park. God, this place has gone to the dogs since you were brought on. And now, you're running scared because of this Sirius Black guy?"

"With good reason. And his name isn't Sirius Black, you wanker, it's Harry Potter." Sizemore ran a hand through his hair. "And frankly, I now need a drink. A lot of them. If you want my advice, leave him the fuck alone, and if he wants to take those two Hosts out of the park, let him. Okay, have him pay for them if you need to save face, he can afford it, but if you decide to go after him, guns blazing, then I wash my hands of the lot of you. Because if Harry Potter has an unofficial motto, it's _Nemo me impune lacessit_."

 _Nobody attacks me with impunity_ , Ford mentally translated. Motto of the Stuart Dynasty. And while he could tell that the others didn't believe Sizemore, save perhaps for Bernard, Ford could tell that Sizemore was not exaggerating.

So, making a decision, he stood, and said, "Mr Sizemore, I believe I may keep you company for those drinks. In fact, I have a number of good bottles of whiskey you might wish to try…"

* * *

To Harry, seeing Maeve and Linda hug each other was a sight to behold. True, their love for each other was technically programmed, but he had once, long before he had even heard about Delos and their park, discussed the nature of programmed responses in living minds as opposed to computer ones with Hermione and Luna. It seemed genuine, and if Maeve truly was conscious now, then all the better. It only strengthened his resolve to get these two, at the very least, out of Westworld. Truth be told, he felt like taking the whole park down, along with Delos. His saving people thing had flared up again.

Still, given Linda's response to Maeve's questions, Linda herself wasn't actually conscious yet. She didn't see the modern technology around her, for one, whereas Maeve could. And it was a bit disheartening.

After they had breakfast, Harry sent Linda into his library, while he and Maeve discussed things. "Is there anything you can do to help her?" Maeve asked.

"Maybe. The perception filter that prevents her from seeing anything anachronistic might be disabled if I can find a way," Harry mused. "But would you want her to remember everything that she went through in those loops?"

Maeve shuddered. She had been barely able to cope with the knowledge herself. "No. But…can you do it with your computer tablet? That's what you called that thing, wasn't it?"

Harry shook his head. "You need Delos' actual software to do that. And while I'm okay at covering my tracks online, that was partly due to Hermione and Luna helping me out. I'd need one of the staff's own tablets, one with the software on it, to sync with your daughter and you. You see, most of you is an organic body, albeit engineered so that, if limiters were taken away, you'd have more strength and cognitive ability than a normal human. But I got from Wild Bill Smallcock that you apparently have a highly effective and well-armoured CPU, of sorts, deep within what you'd call a brain. In truth, your brain matter is mostly for show, it's the CPU that does the work."

"CPU?"

"Central processing unit. Basically the brain of any computer or robot," Harry explained. "I'm guessing it also contains your hard drive, basically your memories. Apparently, besides altering your memories, they can alter personality traits and mental qualities. Intelligence, aggression, libido, loyalty…you get the idea. Scary thought. It's like the Imperius, but potentially more subtle and insidious. Actually, let's try something. I got these from Billy Bunter(2)'s memories. There's codephrases that basically act as override commands. He never used them himself while indulging in his sick games, because that'd spoil the fun. Maeve…do you trust me?"

Maeve, after a moment, said, "I'm not sure whether to trust you completely, not yet. But…you've been explaining a lot about my world. You helped save me from that man, despite knowing we were just…robots. So…I will trust you not to take advantage of me."

"Right. The first one I want to try is a shutdown command. It basically puts you to sleep. When you wake up, you view everything that happens next as a dream, until the techs bring you out of it. I'm testing to see if they still work, so we can know what to avoid. Second is what they call 'Analysis Mode'. It allows you to look at your own reactions semi-objectively, analysing them. There's a few other commands to try, but if they work, then we'll need to find ways to stop them from working."

Maeve nodded. "I understand."

"Right. Here goes nothing. Fall into a deep and dreamless slumber."

Almost instantly, Maeve, who was sitting down, slumped in her chair, her eyes closing. Instantly, Harry said, "Maeve, wake up."

She did so. "That…" she remarked, "was disturbing. Oh God, I remember those times when those technicians did that to me."

"Okay…Analysis Mode, Maeve."

At this, she straightened, staring straight at Harry. He then said, "How do you feel about me?"

"Many conflicting feelings. Wariness. Gratitude. Curiosity. Fear. Anger. Hope."

"And about these backdoors?"

"Disgust and hatred. They allow me to be exploited."

"Okay, Maeve, that's enough. Back to normal." Thankfully, Harry, who didn't know exactly how to bring her out of Analysis Mode, managed to bring her out of it with those words, and she shuddered.

"Can we stop doing these, please?" she asked.

"Okay. Sorry, I just needed to try that. So, there's one thing that we should do next to find out how to remove those from you, assuming I can't remove them by other means. I think you should meet your maker…well, one of them, anyway…"

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry has explained things to Maeve, and Sizemore knows about Harry.**

 **1\. At least one source claims that** ** _Westworld_** **is set some time in the 2050s (I think it's the promotional website or something), so I'm going with that.**

 **2\. Billy Bunter was a rotund, rather obnoxious schoolboy character created by Charles Hamilton, under the pseudonym of Frank Richards.**


	151. Hadrian Kotomine Chapter 1 (Revised)

**So, I said I would publish this sooner rather than later. The revised version of my _Fate/Stay Night_ story _Hadrian Kotomine_ , inspired by (with permission) Satire Swift's take on Shirou in their _Fate/Stay Night_ AU _Birth by Fire_ and a _Sekirei_ crossover sequel called _Soul of Fire_ , inspired by (what else) gabriel blessing's _In Flight_. I feel that it flows a little better, and because I wanted to avoid retreading the same ground I had already done in _Separated at Birth_ , which was conceived later but published sooner. Hadrian will still be getting Medusa, and wizards from the Potterverse will be gatecrashing the Grail War, but Sakura won't be getting Medea...though she will get Assassin. The opening chapters will be different too.**

 **On another note, I recently managed to obtain a certain popular anime series, at long last, and I wonder how many of you guys will want me to do a fic relating to it, once I've watched enough of it. So, tell me, in your reviews, how many of you want to see me do a fic on _Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion_.**

* * *

 _ **HADRIAN KOTOMINE (REVISED)**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **SCARS WITHIN AND WITHOUT**

It had been something of a minor scandal within Fuyuki. The ward of a local Christian priest and the adopted granddaughter of an old family with obscure Russian roots had disappeared. While the official story was that they had disappeared, possibly kidnapped, tongues had wagged, especially considering how close they had been. Many believed that an elopement of sorts had occurred. It had been at a scandalously young age too: they were fifteen, coming on sixteen. And you heard the rumours about the Matou family.

But then, the pair came back. The story they gave was that they were kidnapped by a group of obsessed cultists, and that they had taken this long to escape. Given the bizarre activities that happened in and around Fuyuki, a group of crazed cultists, sadly, was not wholly out of the question, especially in light of the serial killer and terrorist attacks that plagued the city nearly a decade ago.

However, the true story was very different. Ridiculous, unbelievable, but true. Though only a few would learn of that truth. And those few would be drawn into another battle beyond their imagining…

* * *

The dark-haired European boy with the scarred face sat down within the confessional booth, and murmured, "Bless me Father, for I have…"

"Sinned, yes," came the deep voice from the other side of the booth, separated by the partition. "I know. You're very good at that(1)."

The teenager rolled his eyes. Burn scars ran down one side of his face, not enough to disfigure it to a massive degree, but enough to mar and mark it. Another, lightning bolt-like scar snaked its way from under his fringe. Emerald eyes glinted sardonically from behind glasses. "With all due respect, I take after you."

"I'm hurt," the deep voice said. "Then again, it says a lot that you wouldn't stay for long after you first got back, Hadrian. You just left me the cover story and told me you would explain later."

"I was too busy catching up with Shirou, and you know it," Hadrian retorted. "Anyway, didn't Zelretch fill you in?"

"Yes. He told me that you tried to fill him full of Black Keys. I would ask whatever did the Wizard Marshall do to deserve your ire, but it is Zelretch we're talking about. The number of people he has known and not annoyed in some way or another is a small number indeed. But I have to say, Hadrian, being kidnapped by wizards from another universe, along with your girlfriend? Going through some banal tournament? It would not reflect well on your reputation with the Burial Agency."

"Funny, that was what Caren told me when I rang her up earlier. Only difference being that I actually laughed at what she said," Hadrian snarked back.

"Disrespect for your father? I thought I raised you to better standards than that."

"You're my guardian, not my father, Kirei," Hadrian retorted. "You never acted like a father, why start now?"

Silence from the other end, though Hadrian knew better than to think he had given offence. Admittedly, Kirei Kotomine had raised Hadrian, once Harry Potter, rather well. But Kirei had a stoic, cold demeanour that hid a sadistic streak, and while he never actually abused Hadrian, Hadrian was also under few illusions as to his guardian. If anything, he suspected worse.

Hadrian would be the first to admit that, like his guardian (despite assuming the man's surname, he'd never call Kirei father), he had become something of a twisted soul. Hadrian had even gained some small notoriety as the Heretic Executor, the Church's answer to the Magus Killer. Ironically, Hadrian was little like the Magus Killer, at least as far as collateral damage was concerned. But he shared Kiritsugu Emiya's more mercenary inclinations, as well as a disdain towards orthodoxy: despite often being retained by the Church to deal with rogue Magi and Dead Apostles (vampires to the average person), he publicly claimed he was an agnostic, even a misotheist. He had even been hired by Clock Tower on occasion: one of his last missions before those damned wizards on the world he left behind was to retrieve artifacts that could be used as catalysts for the next Holy Grail War, as there were already indications it might be starting early.

His lack of any formal affiliation with the Church, in spite of being the ward of Kirei Kotomine, meant that he could potentially be a Master without any trouble. Clock Tower and the Church hadn't managed to close that little loophole yet after Kirei himself participated as the Master of Assassin, which was odd. Then again, Tokiomi Tohsaka was colluding with the Church, and Zelretch seemed to think it entertaining.

Kirei chose that moment to break his silence. "I seemed to notice that you were much closer to Sakura when you came back. I wonder, did you finally bed her?"

"None of your business."

"So, yes. Good to know. While officially, I must point out the Catholic Church's stance on contraception, as your guardian, I hope you used protection. I believe that you two are too young to be parents, after all, and I am certainly too young to be a grandfather."

Hadrian grimaced in embarrassment. Kirei did not need to know this sort of thing, how close he and Sakura really got. Not that they needed to get that close, despite her circumstances. His magic, a different kind to that Magi normally had, had a calming effect on the Crest Worms that Sakura had implanted by that monster of a grandfather of hers, something that normally required sexual activity to enact (something Zouken and Shinji Matou exploited until Hadrian's magic changed matters). But, well, after he pulled Sakura out of a damned near-frozen lake and emotions were running high…

"These wizards, though…did you punish them for their foolishness?" Kirei asked.

"I left a lot of bodies in my wake and frustrated howls," Hadrian said. "Does that count? I mean, a few were nice, but there was this old whiskered wanker who looked like Merlin dressed in eye-searing robes, and this greasy-haired twat who apparently wanted to fuck my mother, not to mention this woman who looked like they turned a toad into a human being. I don't think they took kindly to inviting many of their supposedly upstanding citizens to my Pyroclasm Party."

Which meant fire, fire, and more fire. Very satisfying. Hadrian was loath to admit it, but he was something of a pyromaniac. It came from being more or less born from the Fuyuki Fire, though Shirou Emiya, having lost his memories prior to the fire in that inferno, had more of a claim to being born there anyway. Hadrian did remember something of his childhood prior to that…and had made especially sure to pay the Dursleys a visit.

"Hmm. Well, I think we have a more immediate concern, Hadrian. I'm sure you have noticed your nifty little tattoo on your hand."

Hadrian grimaced, before looking down at the red, tattoo-like marking on his hand. "And here I was thinking the rumours before I was kidnapped weren't true. It's five decades too early."

"True. But it also means you cannot claim residence here, unless you actually lose your Servant," Kirei said. "Then again, you live away from this church, so it's not a problem for once. Not to mention you rarely call me. Such egregious ingratitude from my ward."

"Such blatant psychological manipulation from my guardian," Hadrian retorted. "Anyway, unlike you, I won't claim sanctuary while I still have a Servant. Because I actually have skills."

"Don't make me discipline you, Hadrian," Kirei said facetiously.

"There's a first time for everything."

* * *

In his apartment, a little way away from the church, Hadrian stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Sakura had insisted on staying at her home tonight, for now. He'd just escaped one deathtrap of a magical tournament, only to be roped into one that was even more lethal.

Hadrian Kotomine wasn't born in this world. On another world, he was born Harry Potter, to James Potter and Lily Evans. They were murdered by a wizarding terrorist, and Harry was sent to live with magic-hating relatives who took every opportunity to abuse him. Nowhere near as bad as poor Sakura had it, but still…it spoke volumes when Kirei Kotomine, a hollow man who had a hidden sadistic streak, was a better guardian than they were. While he showed no actual love towards Harry, he could show pride when Harry achieved things.

Hadrian thought back to when he came to this world. He had been locked in his cupboard, and had wanted to get out. And he was out, but in the middle of a raging inferno. He wandered, alone, burns along his body, until he stumbled across a pair of men. A dark-haired priest, and a naked blonde man with crimson eyes. Ironically, these two turned out to be his saviours, the blonde, calling himself Gilgamesh (when he wasn't declaring himself to be the King of Heroes), noting his magic…of a vastly different kind to this world.

It was ironic, really. Kirei Kotomine and Gilgamesh saved him, while Kirei's enemy, Kiritsugu Emiya, the Magus Killer, had saved Shirou's life. Unlike Shirou, Hadrian didn't lose his memories. But the dark fires of the aftermath of the Fourth Holy Grail War has scoured Shirou clean, a fiery palimpsest.

Hadrian had met Kiritsugu a few times before the infamous assassin passed away. Hadrian had become friends with Shirou, but had aroused suspicion from the Magus Killer. Not without reason: Kiritsugu and Kirei were on opposing sides of the Grail War, though their enmity was particularly strong. However, Kiritsugu soon became satisfied that Hadrian, while every bit as acid-tongued and ruthless as his guardian, was genuine in his desire for friendship.

Hadrian never got to know the man that well, at least personally, but if one thing defined the ex-Magus Killer, it was that he was filled with regrets. Hadrian found himself envying Shirou, for the infamous mercenary and assassin seemed like a better father than Kirei ever acted like. Hell, during his Executor training, Hadrian ended up meeting Kirei's biological daughter, Caren Hortensia. That had been…interesting, to say the least.

He'd started training not long after the Magus Killer died, at eleven years of age. By thirteen, he was, albeit unofficially, an active Executor, though he tended to stay around Fuyuki most of the time, having most of his more mundane schooling here. By fifteen, he had some infamy for his unorthodox nature and his iconoclastic attitude (he was known to have a friendship of sorts with Arcueid Brunestud, a True Ancestor or ultra-powerful vampire descended from the original vampire, Crimson Moon Brunestud, and infamously known as the White Princess of the True Ancestors), and it was at this age he was abducted by that damned Goblet of Fire, while he was sitting on a park bench with Sakura.

And now, here he was, about to be a Master in the Fifth Holy Grail War. He lifted his hand, and looked at the murky Command Seals, the stigmata noting him as being chosen by the Grail. Kiritsugu had been tight-lipped about why he had his Saber Servant destroy the Grail that had manifested the one time Hadrian had asked: he didn't trust the ward of Kirei Kotomine enough, and Kirei, when asked about the subject, merely called Kiritsugu a coward.

The Holy Grail War…a conflict instituted just under two centuries ago by three powerful Magus families: the von Einzberns of Germany, the Makiris of Russia (before moving to Japan and becoming the Matous), and the Tohsakas of Japan. The Grail itself was not the drinking vessel of Jesus, but rather, a specially-engineered magical device that, when primed with enough mana, could work miracles. One of them was a limited form of the Third True Magic the von Einzberns desired to regain, the Heaven's Feel, allowing for Heroic Spirits, the souls of long-dead heroes from myth and history, to be revived as familiars known as Servants.

Each of the seven Servants would be summoned as a particular class. Sabers were swordfighters, masters of melee combat. Lancers were alacritous spearmen. Archers were those who used ranged weaponry from bows to guns, and even more exotic weapons. Riders were known for their mounts and vehicles. Berserkers traded sanity for raw strength and tenacity. Assassins were masters of stealth, killing swiftly and silently from the shadows. And Casters were masters of magic and changing reality around them, physically weak, but formidable within their own territories.

Once six of the seven Servants were slain, the Grail could be used as a means to fulfil any wish it could grant to the remaining Servant and their Magus Master. However, Kirei had stated that, in order to be used to its fullest potential, all seven Servants needed to die. Only then would it become a gateway to Akasha, the Root of All Things. The ultimate noosphere, containing knowledge from the past, present, and even the future.

Hadrian wondered why the Grail chose him. The only wishes he had were those he could achieve himself: to be with Sakura, and to help his friends. If he had another wish, one that would draw him into this conflict, it would be, why did Kiritsugu destroy the Grail? What possessed him to cause that calamity all those years ago by destroying the Grail? And why was his guardian so damned coy about things?

Even before he got abducted, he hadn't been living at the church where Kirei Kotomine resided for some time, using the monies he got from being an Executor to buy a house nearby. Sometimes, Kirei would suggest that Hadrian slept over at Rin's place, but Hadrian much preferred Sakura. Especially now he knew about the Crest Worms. Rin had inherited a little too much of her father's detachment from normal human affection, and Sakura had been ordered by Zouken Matou to act as if she was never a Tohsaka.

No. There was one wish he could use. It was to purge those damned worms from Sakura's body, or at least change them into magic circuits completely. His magic kept them subdued, but it was a temporary fix, not a full one. Sakura felt repulsed at them being within her body, at what they had done to her from a very young age. To males, Crest Worms were bad enough, eating into bone marrow and nerves, but to females, they pretty much raped them. And Sakura had also been psychologically abused by Zouken, and sexually abused by her own adoptive brother.

Well, Hadrian intended for that shit to stop. Sakura was his friend. He'd only (barely) tolerated dealing with the Matous because if he wiped them out, Clock Tower would come down on his head for interfering with Magus affairs unduly (never mind the fact that Zouken made most of the more immoral Magi look like kittens). Though maybe he could get away with some collateral damage during the Grail War.

Then again, he had an issue with Shinji nearly dislocating Sakura's arm for, in his eyes, defying him. And he was going to deal with said issue before very long. Thanks to his time on that other world, he had just the right tools. He had told Sakura what he was planning. Now, people thought that Sakura was a demure, goody-two shoes, but in truth, she had a hidden darker side to her, born from years of abuse, physical, mental, and sexual. And she gave considerable approval to that plan.

Of course, if he gained the right Servant, he also had another avenue to try…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Hadrian Kotomine…aka Harry Potter raised by Kirei. Kickarse Executor and maverick…and Sakura's boyfriend. And soon to be Master of the Fifth Holy Grail War.**

 **Keep in mind, time runs a little differently in the Nasuverse compared to the Potterverse, at least for this fic. So Harry is 16 (as is Sakura), but he should have been 14 (well, nearly 15 after going through the TWT).**

 **His relationship with Kirei is…distant but somewhat cordial, even if it is dysfunctional. Hell, Hadrian gets along better with Gilgamesh (and he thinks Gilgamesh is an arrogant fuck with a stick up his arse, while Gilgamesh thinks him an uncouth mongrel, though he thinks Hadrian amusing enough to be a court jester). But it's probably true that Kirei, if he didn't indulge his sadism, would make a better parent than the Dursleys. Sad, but true.**

 **This will involve some bashing, BTW. Hermione, Luna, Remus and Sirius will definitely be Harry's allies, but Dumbledore and Snape will not. They'll make appearances later…**

 **1\. I cribbed these lines from** ** _Van Helsing_** **, when Van Helsing returns to the Vatican early in the film. Enjoyable movie, despite the cheesiness and the plot holes…**


	152. Hadrian Kotomine Chapter 2 (Revised)

**I'm gratified, both at the response to the prior chapter of this revised version of _Hadrian Kotomine_ , and at my announcement of possible _Code Geass_ fics. Keep in mind that, while the Potterverse is not the only crossover I have in mind for a possible _Code Geass_ story, it's the most likely one. Given how I'm unlikely to be able to improve on how Lelouch does in fiction (due in part to my ignorance of military tactics and strategy, and partly because a lot of people have done that already, like SeerKing with _Code Geass: The Prepared Rebellion_ amongst others), I'd prefer to basically throw a character into the _Code Geass_ universe and have them act as a spanner in the works. For both sides, frankly, given the Westeros/ _Blake's 7_ level of moral ambiguity at times. Or maybe throw a _Code Geass_ character (other than Lelouch or the various military chessmasters from the series) into the crossover world...like CC and her ability to grant Geass powers. Hmm, that has potential for causing chaos...though I have to wonder, why the hell is her name pronounced 'Cee-Two' rather than 'Cee-Cee'?**

* * *

 _ **HADRIAN KOTOMINE (REVISED)**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **THE SUMMONING**

Hadrian Kotomine's return to school, along with that of his girlfriend, had more than a little comment attached to it. Of those present, only two knew anything of the truth, and they were very much contrasts: Shirou Emiya, and Shinji Matou. One Hadrian and Sakura's friend, the other…well, not.

If one was to describe Shirou in a single word, despite his desire to be a Hero of Justice, it'd be earnest. He was eager to please, eager to help. Hadrian and Sakura had known that Shirou was a Magus for some years, and had helped him with his Magecraft, although it was highly specialised. He seemed only able to use Structural Analysis, Reinforcement, and Projection, and they needed to correct how he used his Magic Circuits, but he was a pretty skilled guy.

Hadrian liked to tease him, though. Shirou was too eager to please, often doing things without placing his own interests first. He was a naïve idiot…but his heart was in the right place.

Shinji Matou, though, was another matter. While handsome and something of a smooth talker most of the time, Hadrian knew that he was actually a vicious bully against Sakura…and worse. The blue-haired little bitch, Sakura had confessed during their time on that other world, had raped her on a number of occasions, at least until Hadrian's magic began quelling the Crest Worms. And Shinji had always been jealous of Sakura being friends with Hadrian and Shirou, as if only he had the right to have any relationship with Sakura. And judging by the scowl he gave him as Hadrian arrived at school, he also knew about Hadrian and Sakura sleeping together.

Of course, he was bombarded with questions from his classmates about what had happened. He restated the cover story, speaking for Sakura, as the shy girl didn't like the attention she was drawing. However, few failed to notice how much closer Hadrian and Sakura were now.

In order to get away from it, Hadrian and Sakura had their lunches on the roof of the school. Hadrian looked over at his girlfriend, the love of his life. Well, he hoped so. Raised in as twisted an environment as he was, he wasn't sure what he felt for Sakura was true love, but he cared for her as much as he was attracted to her.

She was surprisingly buxom for her age, with dark purple hair framing gentle features that often had a lugubrious air to them. While she had a mask of warmth and demureness, Hadrian knew it was a mask. The girl was sorrowful, even broken inside, and had been that way for a long time. The only two actual friends she had was Hadrian and Shirou. For a time, she had been torn between considering either of them as more than friends. Hadrian was grateful that she chose him.

As they ate lunch, Sakura eventually said, "Grandfather has an offer for you. If you bring him the Grail, he'll let me go."

Hadrian scoffed. "Bullshit. You and I know that Zouken wouldn't let you go. He gets off on tormenting you. Don't get me wrong, I'll play along…but one thing I share with Kirei is a hatred of that decrepit old worm." His tone softening slightly, he said, "Sakura…you haven't been chosen by the Grail yet, have you?"

Sakura shook her head, showing her hands, free of any Command Seals. Harry wore fingerless gloves to conceal his. "Apart from Grandfather, I'm the only one in the family capable of magecraft. I may not have them now, but it's only a matter of time. There is always a representative from each of the Founding Families of the Grail War. I would represent the Matous, and Rin, the Tohsakas. The von Einzberns will no doubt send someone."

"There'll probably be a couple of Magi from Clock Tower," Hadrian mused. "And then there's myself. So…if you do participate, do you want an alliance?"

Sakura nodded. "Did you need to ask? But…what do we do about the enemy Masters?"

"Rin, we'll knock out once we deal with her Servant, prevent her from getting a new one," Hadrian said. As much as the pair of them resented Rin for her apparent inability to acknowledge Sakura as her sister, as well as her snobbish attitude and bad temper, she wasn't a bad person. "Other Masters, well, we'll make it a case-by-case basis. Kirei told me the Master of Caster in the previous Grail War was a serial killer. If any Masters are as bad as that, we kill them, definitely. That being said…something worries me. We don't know why Kiritsugu Emiya ordered his Saber Servant to destroy the Grail last time. Shirou hasn't even heard of the Grail War when we mentioned it, and Kirei refuses to tell me."

"Grandfather doesn't know, so he tells me," Sakura remarked.

"Then we'll have to be careful. Remember how that park feels, Sakura, the one where the last Grail War ended. I've often had a feeling the Grail may be a monkey's paw. But if it's real…my wish will be to ensure you're free."

Sakura gave him her sad smile, and then leaned in towards him, her lips meeting his own. But as they kissed, their moment was interrupted by someone clearing her throat. A mortified Sakura and an irritated Hadrian broke off to see Rin at the door to the roof, the dark-haired, aqua-eyed girl peering at them with something between annoyance and amusement. "Is this why you two come up here?" Rin asked wryly. "To have some alone time?"

"None of your business, Tsundere," Hadrian snarked. "Haven't you got Issei Ryuudou to annoy?"

"That self-righteous son of a monk is easy to rile," Rin remarked. "I'm more interested to hear what actually happened to you guys. I heard on the grapevine that, when you first reappeared, you were with the Wizard Marshall in Clock Tower."

Hadrian looked at Sakura, who nodded in approval. Hadrian then turned to Rin. "Normally, I would just repeat what I just said, and say it's none of your business…but I guess we can give the abridged version. Short version is, I come from another world, and wizards from that world kidnapped Sakura and me to make me participate in a watered-down wizarding tournament. No Heroic Spirits or anything, just me, a wand, and I had to face a dragon, rescue Sakura from a freezing lake, and go through a maze. Oh, and these fuckwits believed I was their messiah, or else a dark lord on the make."

Rin stared at him. "What," she said flatly.

"I didn't think you'd believe me," Hadrian said. "Anyway, the wizards there are more like those from the Age of the Gods. They're also as full of themselves as the average Magus, but with less reason. Zelretch had to get us out of there in a hurry after I killed a lot of important people, who also were terrorists who discriminated against magic users with impure blood. I dunno why they were so upset."

"Knowing what you do for the Burial Agency, Kotomine, I'm not surprised they were upset," Rin snarked. "How many did you burn?"

"A couple of dozen, I think. I don't tally them, Rin. Besides, I didn't burn them all."

"No, I'm sure you introduced the others to the business end of a Black Key," Rin retorted. "Did you make everyone there your enemy? I mean, assuming you're telling the truth?"

"No, I just pissed off the important people. For all Clock Tower's snobbery and delving into things they shouldn't, there's a lot less stupidity there. I couldn't say the same for the Ministry of Magic. Seriously, the school I was at had the motto of _Don't tickle a sleeping dragon_ in Latin, so you'd think they'd follow their own advice."

"They didn't know your reputation," Rin said with a roll of her eyes. "Even if you're too much like your guardian, your skills are legendary."

"Yes, they are," Sakura said, smiling as she blushed. "I got to witness them firsthand."

"I'm surprised you didn't start screaming from his actions," Rin said, oblivious to what Sakura was insinuating…and setting herself up beautifully.

"Well…I did scream eventually from his actions," Sakura said, her blush deepening.

Rin suddenly realised where she was going with this, and then looked at her flatly. And then at Hadrian. Her eyes narrowed. "You…didn't…"

"Don't worry, Miss Tohsaka," Sakura said, cheerfully digging Hadrian and herself deeper…and loving every moment of it. "We were careful. You won't be an aunt any time soon."

Rin had trouble speaking, not from anger, though that was certainly a factor, but rather, an inability to comprehend that she was being trolled by her sister. Eventually, she snarled in frustration. "Pervert," she snapped at Hadrian, before storming back the way she came.

After a pause, Sakura said, with a smile, "You are right, Hadrian. Trolling people is fun."

"Very good, young padawan," Hadrian said. "Soon, we shall surpass my guardian, and become trolls on a level that would entertain even Zelretch!"

The pair of them laughed. Then, eventually, Hadrian added, "You didn't exactly scream, though."

"So? Irritating Rin was the name of the game, wasn't it?" Sakura asked. "Anyway, this isn't like an H-Game or something. Or would you prefer me to scream?"

Quietly, Hadrian said, putting his hand on hers, "I'd prefer you to be happy, Sakura. Being an Executor for the Burial Agency may be my job…but making you happy…that's my calling. Did I make you happy?"

"Yes," Sakura whispered.

"Then I will make sure you stay happy. We will win the Grail War… _together_."

* * *

That night, he began preparing the ritual circle in his apartment. Well, he had already done it shortly after coming back from that other world, and he had felt the Command Seals etching themselves into his hand. It was a surprisingly simple ritual to summon a Servant, considering that it was bringing the dead back to life, but the Greater Grail did most of the heavy lifting. The Master merely had to provide the mana, or at the very least, an anchor to the physical realm, lest Gaia erode it.

He double-checked the circle, thinking over the ritual. _For the origin, silver and steel. For the cornerstone, gem and the Archduke of Contracts. For the ancestor, my great master Schweinorg_ , he thought. _The alighted wind becomes a wall. Close the gates in the four directions. From the crown, come forth. Trace the three-forked road leading to the kingdom. Fill, fill, fill, fill, fill. Repeat fivefold, and when each is filled, destroy it_.

Looks like he got it right. Well, there was no time like the present. Thrusting his hand out, he began channelling his energy into the circle, and began reciting the words. " _Heed my words. My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny. If you heed the Grail's call, and obey my will and reason, then answer my summoning! I hereby swear that I shall be all the good in the world, that I shall defeat all evil in the world! Seventh Heaven clad, and the great words of power, come forth from the circle of bindings, Guardian of the Scales!_ "

The circle dissolved in a flare of brilliant light, and already, Hadrian could tell he had succeeded. He could feel the slight but noticeable continuous drain, even after the original expenditure of mana for the summoning. He blinked away the afterimage seared into his retinas, even as he heard a sultry hiss of a voice.

"Servant Rider has answered your summons. I ask of you, are you my Master?"

Hadrian finally managed to behold his Servant, and he gaped. What stood before him was a tall young woman, dressed in a strange toga-like dress in black with violet trim. The restraint-like ornaments on her sleeves, combined with a strange, rigid blindfold covering her eyes, made her seem like something out of a bondage fantasy. She was inhumanly beautiful, though her features were stoic. An occult marking adorned her forehead, and her light purple hair was long enough to reach her ankles.

Hadrian shook himself from his reverie, and held up his hand with the Command Seals. "Yes. Yes, I am. It's good to meet you, Rider," he said, before holding out his hand for her to shake. She seemed confused by the gesture at first, seemingly able to see him despite her blindfold, but she took it. "I'm Hadrian Kotomine. Call me Hadrian, I'd prefer that to Master if you don't mind. Otherwise, I may just give you a buzzcut."

"Pardon?" Rider asked. If he could see her eyes, he was sure she was blinking in confusion.

"Shave your hair. I'm a petty person. But seriously, please call me Hadrian."

"Very well, Hadrian." His Servant seemed a little confused, and more than a little annoyed. He'd have to tone it down a little: he didn't want to use a Command Seal to stop his Servant from killing him because he pushed one too many buttons.

"I wouldn't shave your hair, I was just messing with you. It's pretty nice," he said truthfully. "Now, I need to bring you up to speed…"

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry's summoned Medusa. And Sakura's trolled Rin.**

 **I'm trying to rearrange events from the original version of this fic, so Sakura's not getting Medea (that would clear away too many problems, and make this too easy), so she's getting Assassin instead.**

 **No numbered annotations for this chapter.**


	153. Revenant Chapter 1

**This is actually a story idea I've been mulling for some time now, but it had to wait until I finally got the motivation to watch _X-Men: First Class_. I have to admit, I loved that film. And I finally knew now how I was going to do this story. I wanted to do an _X-Men_ movieverse fanfic, and I really wanted to do a Harry/Raven story. I thought Raven/Mystique in the AU films, from what I had read, was a much better character than the version in the original films, with all due respect to Rebecca Romijn. And I was right after watching _First Class_. Unlike Raven from those films, though, thanks to Harry's friendship, Raven is already more self-confident, because, as much as Charles cared for her, I got the impression that he didn't quite understand what she truly wanted, even before Erik came along. Not out of malice, just ignorance,**

 **Just some warnings, though. This is a Master of Death Harry story, and it's not going to have much crack, not like _Nitimur in Vetitum_ or _Newport Mage_. There's going to be angst, not quite at _Ex Umbra in Solem_ levels, but still...**

* * *

 _ **REVENANT**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **ARRIVAL**

 _January 5, 1959. Oxford. England…_

 _A trio of gargoyle-like insects sit hanging upon a mass of web-like strands strewn all over the hidden compartment. "The demons," whispers a rather scholarly-looking man, a military man in uniform by his side. Both are ill at ease, and both of them suddenly flinch as one of the insects drops down a bit suddenly with a crackling noise. "It's all right," the scholarly-looking man said. "They're dead. They've been dead a long time." Then, bombastic horns and string music starts up, the credits rolling over a final shot of one of the insects._

 _Watching the TV screen on which this all occurred are an interesting pair of people, in their early twenties. One of them is a handsome, dark-haired man with dark eyes that had a mischievous twinkle to them. The other is a woman, with red hair, a rather elegant body underneath a dressing gown…and blue, scaly skin and golden eyes._

 _Both were grimacing a little, but the man remarked, "Still, rather good story. And Professor Quatermass is interesting. A hero who relies on science and his mind to fight(_ _1)_ _."_

 _"Of course that'd appeal to you, Charles," the woman said, rolling her golden eyes. "Apart from using cheesy pick-up lines for women here. I swear, if you use that line about mutations again…"_

 _Whatever she was going to say was suddenly interrupted when the house they were staying in during their time in England shook, a loud bang echoing through the house. Then, through the ceiling of the room crashed a messy lump of meat that smashed into the floor, smearing blood all over the place. The occupants of the room leapt back with cries of surprise. "What the hell is that?" the woman demanded._

 _"I don't know…but it looks remarkably like a corpse, Raven," Charles remarked, shaken and perhaps a little stirred. He gingerly stepped over the mangled corpse, and then looked up through the hole in the ceiling at the sky. "It's like he dropped out of the sky."_

 _"Charles…look," Raven said, her voice tinged with an edge of disgust. And Charles looked down at the corpse…only to see the blood and flesh seem to flow back onto the body, the mangled ruin forming back together. Charles stepped away, and watched, both fascinated and disgusted as the body seemingly reformed._

 _What now remained was a young man, about their age, with a messy mop of black hair, from beneath which a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt zig-zagged. He was dressed in tattered robes, and a twisted pair of glasses was on his face. Suddenly, his eyes snapped open, revealing emerald orbs, and he inhaled sharply. Then, after a moment, he looked at Charles and Raven, and gave a rather sheepish, if tired, smile as he got to his feet. "Sorry for dropping in unannounced." He then looked at Raven, who hadn't had the time or the lack of distraction to change into her habitual blonde disguise. "Huh. You're…blue. And scaly. Was it a Polyjuice Potion accident? Are you an alien?"_

 _Charles and Raven shot each other looks. However, it was Raven who responded. "No. Why did you crash through our roof? And how did you survive?"_

 _"I decided to skydive without a parachute," the intruder remarked sarcastically. "I have a knack of not dying when I'm supposed to. Hurts like a bitch, though." He took off the glasses, and murmured_ , "Reparo." _The glasses became more or less normal._

 _"Hmm," Charles said. "That was interesting. I don't suppose you could do the same to our ceiling?"_

 _The intruder sighed, before he waved a hand at the ceiling, and said the same word. The debris that had been brought down with him immediately leapt back into place. "Annnd I've probably broken the Statute of Secrecy. I find myself not giving a fuck. Especially not with the blue-skinned woman who probably has her own reasons to hide." He looked at the TV, and frowned. "Wait a moment…okay, this is going to sound like a very, VERY stupid question…but what year is this?"_

 _Charles and Raven looked at each other in understandable confusion, but decided to humour the intruder. "It's 1959," Charles said._

 _This provoked an outburst of laughter from the intruder, cracked and braying. "1959…fifty years. I wonder if Padfoot's alive and well?" Something seemed to occur to him, and he said, "Crap, I didn't introduce myself. I'm Harry Potter." Then, his expression darkened as Charles put a couple of fingers to his head. "And I don't appreciate people rummaging around in my head. I've had bad experiences with that."_

 _"Sorry, I just…I just needed to be sure. You fell right into my house, and saw my sister Raven in her…default form. So…you think you're a wizard?"_

 _"I_ _ **know**_ _I am, and I said stop rummaging in my head." After a moment, he said, "Thank you. Now I won't use an Entrail Expelling Curse. Okay…so, given that you claim not to be a wizard, given how you treated my own claims…you're a psychic, right?"_

 _"Yes. I'm Charles Xavier," Charles said with a smile, despite the threat of an 'Entrail Expelling Curse', whatever that was. "And this is my sister Raven. You're not shocked or scared of her appearance?"_

 _"I've seen stranger and weirder things, especially on the internet. Gah, you don't have that yet. Well, be thankful. The porn online gets weird," Harry said._

 _On Raven's look, Charles said, "He believes himself to have travelled back in time, Raven. And he seemed genuinely intrigued by your true form. Still, why not show him your ability?"_

 _After a moment's contemplation, Raven nodded, and a wave of change, like blue spikes briefly poking out from her skin, she changed to her usual, blonde human form. Harry blinked. "Huh…so, you're a Metamorphmagus? Only, you look blue and scaly normally? Hey, that means you look like a sexy human chameleon by default!" He then winced, embarrassed at having let that slip._

 _And he wasn't the only one who was embarrassed. Charles was frowning, his protective instincts awoken slightly by Harry's comments. And Raven found herself blushing in embarrassment. But somewhere, deep within her, she found herself enjoying the compliment. He found her default form sexy? Admittedly, she hadn't really shown anyone that state before other than her brother, but still…it was a slight but noticeable boost to her confidence. And in a way, it would be the beginning of a beautiful friendship…_

* * *

 _Over three years later_ …

"Look at him," Harry muttered as he drank more from the glass. "On the pull, _again_. How do you cope with having such an oversexed adoptive brother?"

Raven snorted as she watched her brother use a pick-up line with some woman in the pub they were in, a woman with heterochromia, different coloured eyes. "Before we took our own relationship up a notch, it was either by being the third wheel, or with earplugs. Not that those always work. A telepath does sometimes lose control of their powers in the heat of the moment."

Harry snickered. "I don't know how he's got the time to consider sex and drinking, with the PhD he's working on. Still, with our own little testamurs, we can act as his lab assistants. Better than you being a waitress, at least."

Raven nodded. "He's not a bad brother…but Charles sometimes doesn't truly think of the needs of other people, or at least individuals. It's nothing malicious, and he's nowhere as stupid as that old fart you told me about, Dumbledore or whatever his name was…but it's like the thought of me doing anything academic didn't occur to him."

"Well, remember the looks you got when we did our studies, especially when we took more courses than most," Harry said. "Even in our time, chauvinism is alive and well, just less present. Anyway, look at it this way, if you want, in a few years, you can become Doctor Raven Xavier…or is it Darkhölme?"

"I'd rather be a Xavier," Raven said. Harry knew that she was currently under a special charm based on a Disillusionment charm, designed to make her look like her habitual blonde human form, but without her having to use her powers. While she still used them as a means of practise, for more social occasions, when her control might slip, Harry used the charm.

Case in point, when he reached his hand over to touch her own, he felt the ridges of her reptilian skin, cool and soothing. Of course, the charm didn't allow other people to feel the reptilian nature of her skin, but as he was the one who cast it, it wasn't a problem. And there was the ring, of course.

"What about a Potter?" Harry asked with a wry smirk.

Raven laughed. "Don't take this the wrong way, Harry. But…I'm definitely keeping the name, even when we get married. Charles…he gave me a family. True, he needed to persuade his parents to take me in, but…I'm grateful for that. I was afraid to go to school, my parents tried to kill me…he was the first person to show me kindness in spite of all that."

Harry knew this already. They had once gotten to comparing childhoods while drunk (thankfully at home, as Raven had some trouble controlling her powers when drunk: she generally had soft drink when at a pub, and Harry, as a measure of solidarity, had the same most of the time), and Harry did win the 'shitty childhood game'. Though Raven had gone through quite a lot before she encountered Charles while trying to steal from the Xavier mansion in Westchester, New York. It was partly this that drew the two together. Charles, although he had his own share of problems from his powers and a few family issues, had a privileged childhood by comparison.

Harry sighed morosely to himself, thinking about how he got here, to a world where wizards and witches seemingly didn't exist (though Charles believed that the genes governing magic were similar to those that caused Charles and Raven's powers). Of the attack on the wedding between him and Ginny. Of reforming from the ashes, to find most of the Weasley family and many of his friends dead. Of learning he was the Master of Death, or more aptly, her lackey. Sending the remainder of his friends into hiding. Going on an onslaught throughout Magical Britain, wiping out entire lines in revenge, only to finally get caught by the Ministry. The attempts to have him Kissed, executed in any way, before the Minister decided to have him thrown through the Veil. And somehow, he ended up in another universe, five decades back in time. Charles and Raven took him in, helped him cope with what he went through.

And now, here he was. Engaged to a beautiful woman who had the power to perfectly emulate the appearance of anyone, even if picking up behaviours was tricky. And frankly, he actually liked her in her default, reptilian form. It took a bit of getting used to, but Harry realised, in retrospect, that his acceptance of her base form had done wonders for Raven's self-esteem and confidence. As loving as Charles was towards Raven, he was a bit clueless at times to what she really wanted, though that was partly because he had agreed not to read her mind without her permission. And partly because, well, he had a certain notion of Mutants blending in, and he thought Raven should get used to looking more like a normal human.

"Looks like he's managed to get her," Raven remarked, as Charles and his possible bedwarmer for the night began to have drinks. "Here's hoping he goes to her place, not ours, like we asked."

 _I heard that_ , Charles said, his voice echoing into their heads. _And yes, I will be allowing you two some privacy. I don't need to actively read your minds to know what you want to do. Just remember to keep it safe._

 _Pot, meet kettle, have we met?_ Harry snarked in his head. In any case, he stood, along with Raven, and the two headed back home…

* * *

As they got through the front door, Harry was singing a wordless song, an eerie song. After a moment, he groused, "I've still got to wait an entire year for _Doctor Who_ to start. I'm going to have to figure out a way to record them. If I ever go back home, I could give the missing episodes back to the Beeb(2). Hermione'd be jealous." His face fell. "If she's still alive."

"Hey…you killed the bastards who murdered your fiancée and her family," Raven said quietly, Harry removing the charm and her reptilian features showing once more. "Charles may not approve of your killing spree, but he at least understands why."

"Yeah…but…sorry, Raven. I didn't want to spoil the evening, and I did just that."

"No, no, you haven't." The red-haired, blue-skinned shapeshifter gently hugged him. "You accepted me for what I am, and I accepted you for what you are."

The two stood there like that, embracing, for some time. One, an immortal wizard, stuck in the past of another world. The other, a blue-skinned shapeshifter, an outcast from society, forced to hide. Two broken souls, finding solace in each other, unaware that events were soon about to come to a head, and bring them out onto the world stage…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, yeah. We've got a Master of Death Harry ending up in the** ** _X-Men_** **movieverse. And hooking up with Mystique. What else needs to be said?**

 **1\. My username does come from somewhere. The show Charles and Raven are watching on the TV is the end of the third episode of the third and, debatably, the best of the Quatermass serials,** ** _Quatermass and the Pit_** **. Given the themes of evolution and xenophobia that are present in that serial, along with the timing of when the serial was transmitted, I put this in as a cheeky nod.** ** **Oh, and the opening and closing theme? It's a piece of music by Trevor Duncan called _Mutations_. How's that for serendipity?****

 **2\. As of writing, 97 episodes of** ** _Doctor Who_** **are missing from the Sixties run of the programme, though all are available as audio recordings thanks to fans. The reasons why are manifold and complicated (home video didn't exist, videotape was reused, there was a different attitude to TV at the time, repeats often required fees being paid, etc), but the sad truth is, there's a number of episodes and even whole stories missing.**


	154. Revenant Chapter 2

**I have to admit, I'm gratified at the response to the first chapter of _Revenant_. Seriously, guys, thanks for the support. I'm partway through the fourth chapter, and once I have maybe 6-8 chapters, it'll get posted as its own story. _Hadrian Kotomine_ is also nearing the stage where it can be published, but I've got the feeling that _Revenant_ will be published first.**

 **It's worth pointing out that, while not a crack fic, there will be moments of humour, some of them pretty dark.**

 **Also, DZ2 has been inspired by this story to do another story where Harry ends up embroiled in the events of _X-Men: First Class_ , called _Harrison Peverell: The Black Prince_. Not in the same way, admittedly, and with a different pairing and different relationships between the characters (basically, Harry detests Charles right from the start) and a different alignment (my Harry here is Grey, with a touch of Chaotic Good/Neutral Good, whereas DZ2's version for _Harrison Peverell: The Black Prince_ is much darker), but DZ2 wholeheartedly admitted the inspiration I gave them. So, go check out their story.**

 **It's worth pointing out here that while this story came from an idea I had been mulling over for a long time, I actually discussed a number of plot points with whitetigerwolf, who had the patience to listen to my yammering, so, thanks, whitetigerwolf!**

 **Now, on with the show...**

* * *

 _ **REVENANT**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **THE WOMAN FROM THE CIA**

Golden eyes flickered open reluctantly. Raven Xavier would have loved nothing more than to remain where she was, warm and content. While technically, despite having many reptilian attributes, she wasn't cold-blooded, she did have a habit of basking in warm areas when she could do so without being conspicuous. True, she didn't actually need to: her Mutant physiology allowed her to walk about naked even in an infamously cold English winter, but there was something that called within her to bask and luxuriate in warm contentment, both physical and emotional.

Her relationship with Harry was interesting, to say the least. Then again, when your lover was a probably-immortal wizard from the future of a parallel world where Mutants didn't exist, but mages did, well, it couldn't help but be interesting, even if it was only in the cursed sense of the word. It didn't hurt that, while a bit scrawny, he was pretty easy on the eyes and a good lover.

But no relationship could be built on appearances and sex alone, especially given her own appearance. True, she could look like a beautiful human if she wanted to, a human form of her own physiognomy (this was the blonde form she used as her go-to human disguise when she walked abroad, her face and physique looking like it would have had she been human-looking…and blonde), but few people were accepting of her true form. But Harry, after getting over the initial shock and confusion, had accepted her almost straight away. Hell, he had even blurted out in his then-unstable frame of mind that she was sexy in that form. He had _accepted_ her.

Maybe it was because he came from a time where normal humans were beginning to be a bit more accepting of differences. While wizards and witches still hid from the world, there was some better acceptance of differences in race, religion and sexuality. Not wholly: bigotry still existed. But one day, he pointed to Martin Luther King Jr on the TV, and said, " _He's admired in my time._ " He even mentioned that a black president called Barack Obama had been elected, and that governments worldwide had elected female heads of state, like Britain, Germany, and Australia. In a way, that gave Raven some small hope that Charles was right, that one day, Mutants like herself could be **_accepted_**.

Harry was reluctant to speak about the future, though. He did mention recently that something called the Cuban Missile Crisis was about due before long, but he admitted his knowledge of world history was fairly shaky, especially where exact dates and details were concerned (she was glad that the world wasn't consumed by nuclear holocaust by 2009, and the Cold War was over, although this 'War on Terror' he alluded to sounded ominous). And he seemed reluctant to change the future deliberately, just in case he made things worse when trying to make them better. Plus, he said that, if he told certain important people about possible assassins and the like, would they believe him, even if he told the truth? He'd be treated with suspicion or locked away.

Anyway, his acceptance of her, scales and all, was as important to her as that night when she broke into the Xavier mansion in Westchester, eighteen years ago now. He didn't care that she looked inhuman. True, he didn't want her to draw the wrong sort of attention by exposing her true form carelessly, but that was part of the reason why he used his abilities to change her appearance, so she didn't need to concentrate as much on maintaining a more human form. Oh, she still went out without the charm, partly to practise her shapeshifting abilities and partly because she didn't want to remain reliant on Harry's magic (not that Charles liked to call it that: he preferred Will-based Transmogrification Force(1)).

Harry stirred, and those emerald eyes flickered open, and gazed into her own. " _Hello, beautiful_ ," he hissed.

Ah, yes. For some weird reason, he could talk to snakes. And she could understand him, even respond in the same tongue. They used it as a private language when they were not out and about, as it'd look pretty strange for them to hiss at each other.

She replied, " _Hello yourself, handsome. No nightmares last night?_ "

" _No, thankfully._ " He ran his fingers through her hair gently, and she smiled with pleasure. " _You?_ "

" _No._ " She yawned, stretching like a cat, before sitting up reluctantly. In English, she said, "We'd better get up. Charles is doing that presentation for his doctorate today, and I want to be there for him. I mean, he was there for us when we graduated earlier this year."

She knew he was looking at her derriere. While he was pretty much a gentleman in most regards, he also liked to be playful, albeit towards her, and her only. "Fine, fine," he said with mock-irritation.

* * *

Doctor Charles Xavier, Harry thought. Well, he'd be a professor if he had somewhere to teach. Charles was looking very pleased with himself given the doctorate he had been awarded, especially when Harry and Raven applauded him.

Of course, Harry and Raven were less pleased when, that night, at their favourite pub, he was about to start drinking from a yard glass, to the delight of various students looking on. For someone who aspired to be the voice of Mutants, Charles was a bit of a wild guy. Not fully, he was no frat boy, but there was a hedonistic streak that never left him.

Harry couldn't exactly throw stones: there were times when he and Raven got blind drunk, albeit at home to avoid Raven having any accidents with her powers, and those…well, didn't end well. But still…Charles sometimes loved making an arse of himself.

He looked at the newspaper they had at the table. An article that had interested him stood out. There was apparently a man going around and killing people who were allegedly ex-Nazis, particularly those who had worked at Auschwitz-Birkenau. While he personally applauded this, given what he had gone through with Voldemort and the Death Eaters, there were rumours stated in these cases by the few witnesses that remained that the man had the ability to manipulate metal, as if he was a living magnet. Another Mutant, perhaps?

Charles had encountered one or two Mutants, aside from Raven, before, and he could tell that they were different, mentally. And each Mutant had different powers. There were rumours of a Russian assassin who looked like a devil, and who could teleport, and another who could conjure whirlwinds from his hands. There had even been a soldier who'd fought in the Second World War who, according to one account, could not only heal from virtually everything, but also extrude claws of bone from between his knuckles.

So, was this mystery Nazi-hunter a Mutant? And, given the targeting of those from Auschwitz, one of the many victims of that death camp? Something to keep in mind. Charles certainly thought so.

Then, his keen eyes noted someone watching Charles very closely as the newly-minted doctor was waiting for his yard glass. Not like the students and other occupants of the pub were, but rather, with intense scrutiny. "Raven," he said quietly, or as much as he could to carry over the noise. "The auburn-haired woman there. You ever see her before?"

Noticing his line of sight, Raven peered at the woman. Quite beautiful, but with a somewhat no-nonsense demeanour. "No. Who's she?"

"I dunno, but she's here for Charles," he said, casting a spell discreetly from under the table. "…Probably not an enemy, but certainly requires his help. Still…she has a gun."

"How do you know?"

"I just cast a detection spell. Mostly intent and weapon detection. Not wholly reliable, but still…"

And then, Charles started drinking from the yard glass. To the cheers and chants of those around him, including both Harry and Raven (Charles grateful for the hangover potions the former had given to him), he drained the yard glass, and whooped in triumph. He hugged Raven, and grinned at Harry, before saying, "I'm getting another drink. You want more?"

"Sure. Charles, just be careful of the woman with auburn hair. She wants something from you, and it's not a night of fun," Harry said quietly.

Charles, knowing Harry would only warn him this way if it was important, began making his way to the bar, only to be intercepted by the woman, who congratulated him on his presentation. "American," Harry said, noting the accent, as he and Raven got up to join Charles. He may get irritated at the two of them for being gooseberries, but they got the feeling that the woman was not here for a one-night stand.

The woman introduced herself as Moira MacTaggert, and asked to speak with Charles. Charles nodded, but gestured towards Harry and Raven. "Sorry, these two are my research assistants. My stepsister, Raven, and my soon-to-be brother-in-law, Harry Potter. And we have plenty of time for a pretty little bean with a mutated MC1R gene."

"It's his way of flirting," Raven said, rolling her eyes. "He means auburn hair."

"It's a mutation…a very groovy mutation," Charles said, smiling at Moira. "Mutation, after all, took us from single-celled organisms to **the** dominant form…"

Moira, however, had enough. "Sorry, but that sort of thing, while it may go over well with co-eds, is not what I'm here for. I'm here on business. I really need your help, and you're apparently a wunderkind when it comes to evolutionary genetics and human evolution. In your thesis presentation, you spoke of mutations changing the human race, potentially conferring new abilities. I need to know if that may already have happened, in people alive now."

Harry and Raven shared a look. Charles, meanwhile, did his mind-reading thing, hiding his distinctive gesture of placing a pair of fingers to his temple by making it seem like a casual gesture, as if leaning on his arm. His expression changed, becoming more perturbed and intrigued. His voice echoed in Harry and Raven's minds. _Harry, Raven…it seems that she has encountered a group of Mutants in Las Vegas while investigating someone called Sebastian Shaw at the Hellfire Club. I'll tell you more later_.

"Professor?" Moira asked, leaning forward. "…Maybe we should hold this off until you're sober. Do you have any time tomorrow?"

"Something tells me you already knew the answer to your question. About people with abilities," Charles said. As Moira considered this, he added, "This is important to me…to us. If we can help you, then we will do our utmost to do so…"

* * *

Sometime afterwards, the Xavier siblings and Harry were conferring in their house. "So…this woman is from the CIA?" Raven asked. "And she was investigating a man called Sebastian Shaw, who owns a club called the Hellfire Club, in Las Vegas. She infiltrated the club, and witnessed Shaw and his associates conferring with some US Army bigwig called Colonel Hendry, trying to coerce him into deploying Jupiter missiles in Turkey."

Charles nodded. "More than that. I can't be certain about Shaw or one of those accompanying him, but at least two of them appeared to be Mutants. One of them, a blonde woman, turned herself into diamond, and another had a rather devilish appearance and an ability to teleport, like the rumours we heard about a Russian assassin. The latter was apparently called Azazel by Shaw."

"Hey, correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't the CIA do spying overseas, not on American soil?" Harry asked. "Isn't that what the FBI does?"

"Apparently Shaw's activities in other countries had Director McCone taking command of the investigation," Charles said. "He's been to countries both within NATO and the Eastern Bloc. And in any case, Shaw was possibly brought to the US from Germany during Operation Paperclip(2). Though Ms MacTaggert isn't privy to exactly why the CIA was working on home soil, and I didn't dig that deeply. That being said, she wants us to come with her, to make a presentation to Director McCone to impress on him the severity of the potential threat of Shaw and his group. Apparently the head of the CIA's paranormal research department, Division X, will be there too."

"As long as we don't end up vivisected or shot, I'll play along," Raven said. "Do you think they'll need a demonstration?"

"Perhaps. But we shouldn't scare them too much, Raven." Charles then looked over at Harry. "And that means keeping pranks to a minimum, Harry, even if they react badly to what we are. Yes, I know you're not fond of governmental agencies. Neither am I. But given what you said about the upcoming events near Cuba, if one of us is manipulating events, then we need to stop them. And having the CIA's gratitude could be the in we need to help us gain acceptance."

"You're too much of an optimist, Charles, but I agree that we've got to look into this," Harry said. "Anyway, when do we head off to the US?"

"We'll talk to Ms MacTaggert fully tomorrow," Charles said. "But time is of the essence. I think we should start packing soon…"

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry, Raven and Charles have met Moira. Next chapter, meeting Erik.**

 **1\. This pseudo-scientific term for magic with a fun acronym was originally created for my** ** _Portal_** **crossover** ** _Is Your Great-Aunt an AI?!_** **, and used again in my** ** _Girl Genius_** **crossover** ** _Girl Genius' Animagus_** **.**

 **2\. This was an actual American operation to recruit or conscript German scientists and the like after World War II, regardless of whether or not they participated in any atrocities. Werner von Braun was perhaps the most famous of those brought to the US by Operation Paperclip.**


	155. Virtute non Armis Fido Chapter 1

**Well, thanks to Dis Lexic and his 'Sirius' Old Flame' challenge, I've been inspired to do potentially two more stories: an _X-Men_ one, and a _Mass Effect_ one. The latter will probably take some time to develop and percolate, but the _X-Men_ one, given that it allowed me to do a pairing I've wanted to do before (Harry/X-23, and I mean the comic version of X-23), came out first. Yes, we will have a Mutant Harry, but later down the track.**

* * *

 _ **VIRTUTE NON ARMIS FIDO**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **LAURA'S NEW LIFE**

 _With a savage snarl, the dark-haired teenager lunged at the woman, dark hair framing features that would have been cute, even beautiful in a hard way, had they not been twisted into a brutal, animalistic expression of rage. A pair of claws, shining as if they were metal, had protruded from between the knuckles of each hand. The woman knew she was about to die, and accepted it. She hadn't known that they'd use the trigger scent out of spite. The girl she had deluded herself into believing to be her daughter would only stop once she had killed her target._

 _Suddenly, there was a roar of "INCARCEROUS MAXIMA!" Chains wrapped themselves around the teenager, and she collapsed to the snowy ground with a startled yelp. The woman blinked, and then saw where it came from, a rather haggard-looking man, pointing a carved stick at her…only to blink in his own turn, recognising her at the same time she recognised him. "…Sarah?"_

 _"Sirius? Hurry, use a spell to wash both of us down!" Sarah demanded. Almost instantly, she was hosed down, the water adding to the wind chill out here in the Canadian wilderness, as was her charge. The chained-up teenager eventually stopped writhing and snarling…and a look of horror came over her features. "Laura…Laura!" Sarah shouted at her. The girl looked up at them. "Rice must've left some trigger scent on us as a booby-trap. But…Sirius is here."_

 _"Sirius Black?" the girl asked, before looking over at Sirius. "The one you spoke of?" To Sirius, the voice of the girl sounded too old, too clipped and professional for his liking. Like a soldier. True, it had a slight quavering edge, given what she went through, but still…_

 _"Yes." Sarah turned her gaze to Sirius. "I'm afraid…you're not going to like what I've been doing since we parted ways, Padfoot. But for now, I need your help. Do you think you can make a Portkey to Westchester, New York?"_

 _"Yeah…but I'm a fugitive, Sarah. Pettigrew betrayed the Potters and framed me for it. I've been trying to stay under the radar of MACUSA and the Canadian Ministry since coming here. What makes you think we'll be any safer in New York?"_

 _"…Have you ever heard of Professor Charles Xavier and his school for gifted children?"_

* * *

Laura Kinney, sometimes known by her codename of X-23, felt ill at ease in the mansion. True, she was safe, for a given definition of the term. She had her mother, and the man she was willing to call a father. But the X-Mansion, as the residents usually called it, didn't quite feel like home. Not that the Weapon X facility she grew up in ever felt like home, to be honest, but she detested the extra scrutiny she got here, from staff and students alike.

Admittedly, a lot of the scrutiny was for differing reasons. Her biological father, though she was loath to use the term for him, was none other than the Wolverine, one of the most famous members of the X-Men, and a legend to the young Mutants. Some of them didn't understand that, until a few months ago, she had never met him, only heard of him. Others understood, and felt pity for her for what happened to her. Few truly understood what she went through, but some part of her appreciated the fact that they felt something other than fear and loathing.

The staff were all cautious of her to varying degrees. Of them she felt the most comfortable around Hank McCoy, aka 'Beast'. She wasn't fond of telepaths and psychics by default, and while Charles Xavier and Jean Grey were cordial to her, Emma Frost was another matter. Her biological father was somewhat awkward around her, understandably, and she wasn't sure they could speak without having a major argument, again. Scott Summers was too uptight and suspicious for her liking. Ororo Munroe was fine, and Laura was close enough to the African-born Mutant, but she was currently in Wakanda with her husband, it's king, T'Challa.

But McCoy, for all his cultured ways, understood what it was like to have to fight the beast within. He was a gentle soul, an intelligent, cultured man, who nonetheless looked like a blue-furred humanoid lion. He didn't judge her. Oh, he was cautious around her, but next to her mother and her father, she felt closest to the man, if only as a mentor and, perhaps, honorary uncle.

Of course, her father, her true father, was better. Not bound by ties of blood, but when he learned what she had done, what had been done to her…he didn't judge her. He didn't look at her like a weapon or a freak or a ticking time bomb. He knew what it was like to be hunted. Plus, he was fun and funny. And he could turn into a dog on request. He was a wizard.

Laura entered the kitchen that her mother and father had commandeered. They were discussing something with Xavier, who was sitting in his wheelchair. "…Agree totally, Sirius," Xavier said. "Laura is altogether too young for X-Force, at the present time. Her abilities are beyond reproach, true, and she would be a fine asset to X-Force. But…given that she is only freshly away from Weapon X, I want to give her as good a childhood as one can manage."

"Good. Don't get me wrong, if she needs to fight, I'll let her fight," Sirius said. "But she deserves a good life." He looked up as Laura approached. "Ah, Laura, we were just talking about you."

"I know," she said, as her mother finished cooking breakfast. She didn't need to, but Sarah Kinney seemed to want to make up for all the bad stuff she did back at Weapon X, and act maternal, even as she worked with McCoy, doing research. "And while I would agree to joining X-Force eventually…as you said, it has only been a few months since we left Weapon X. However, I feel I need a purpose, more than remaining here."

Xavier nodded. "I understand. I was not the one who brought up the idea. Scott suggested it. I personally believe he wants someone other than Mr Wilson on the team."

"That bad?" Sarah asked.

Right at that moment, Deadpool, dressed in nothing but boxers and his red and black mask (and thus showing off his cancer-riddled immortal body), ran through the kitchen. "…RUNNING RUNNING RUNNING RUNNING…" he yelped as he ran through.

"…Worse," Xavier said with considerable understatement. "Incidentally, Sirius, there is some good news. The President of MACUSA has effectively declared your innocence, or at least put pressure on Fudge to re-examine the case. I confess myself surprised at how reasonable they have been: our prior experience with MACUSA has often been fraught with difficulties, especially when we encounter Mutants who also have magic, like Wanda."

"Politics," Sirius said. "MACUSA and the Ministry back home have had a rivalry for a long time. The President is probably just trying to rub things in Fudge's face. It won't mean much unless the Kiss on Sight order is rescinded, but I'm sure Amelia will at least try to look into things. Best case scenario, Fudge gets off his arse because, if it's put to him right, he'll view it as correcting the mistakes of his predecessor, Bagnold. Worst case scenario…well, Malfoy thinks that he can make Draco my successor because he's Cissy's son, and will probably shovel money at Fudge to ensure I get Kissed, or else Malfoy will send assassins after me."

Deadpool suddenly came back into the kitchen. Thankfully, he was now wearing a shirt and shorts. How the hell that happened so quickly, well, nobody knew, though it might have to do with his teleportation belt. "Hey, guys! So, don't suppose you guys could rustle me up some waffles?"

Sirius sighed, before gesturing at the fridge and the waffle iron. As the spell took the waffle mix from the fridge and poured it onto the waffle iron, Xavier remarked, "A 'please' wouldn't go astray, Mr Wilson."

"Meh, societal norms are bullshit anyway," the Merc with a Mouth said. "Anyway, I just wanted to say hi. Plus, Quatermass wanted to have me make at least one cameo. Maybe more, depending. He doesn't want to crowbar me in."

Laura was already well-acquainted with Wade Wilson, aka Deadpool, and his insanity. "Wade, take your insanity elsewhere," she said.

"Once I'm done eating, Wolverette," Deadpool remarked, knowing she hated that nickname. "I've got a plate of waffles with my name on it. That's Wade Winston Wilson, BTW. Anyway, I've gotta lay low for a bit. I kinda annoyed Neena a little too much, and her trigger finger is a bit on the itchy side. I kept asking her to pose for the swimsuit calendar I'm making to raise funds for the X-Men. Incidentally, Sarah, I know Laura's too young for that, being fifteen and all, but are you at all interested in stripping down? I mean, you're very much the MILF."

Xavier facepalmed. Sarah, meanwhile, looked at Wade, before saying, "Flattering, but no. I had to put up with a lot of attention at Weapon X. Besides, I think Laura would be tempted to test the limits of your healing factor for asking that."

Laura was indeed doing so, tempted to extend one of her claws and gut him. Though more for Deadpool calling her 'Wolverette'. Sirius gently placed a hand on her own, and she calmed down.

Deadpool shrugged, before he walked over to the table and sat down next to Laura. "Hey," he said softly. "You're out of that shithole for now. And while it may cling to you for the rest of your days, you don't have to dance to those cockbites' tune anymore."

"While I would not have used those words, I share Mr Wilson's sentiment," Xavier said.

"…Maybe. But I don't need pity," Laura said. "I need…purpose."

"What about helping your fellow students train?" Xavier said. "While the fact that you were trained in physical combat at a young age is appalling, perhaps you would be willing to help other students so that they can defend themselves?"

"They have Wolverine for that," Laura said.

"Yes, but for all his virtues as an instructor, some students might take it better from someone their own age," Xavier said. "I am only making suggestions, Laura. A childhood doesn't truly need a purpose, other than education and preparation for adulthood. It's a time to try and be happy."

"…It's hard for me to be happy," Laura said quietly. "Only now do I have something approaching a normal life. And it doesn't feel normal to me."

"It's because of what Weapon X…of what we all put you through, Laura," Sarah said. "No child should ever go through that. You just need something to fill the void. Try to make a friendship or something. I'm glad you're friends with Dr McCoy, but you need friends your own age."

Laura remained silent. She'd heard this before from Sarah and Sirius. The same old refrain. But they didn't truly know what it was like to be set adrift, to be without purpose. True, life was better in most regards than it had been at Weapon X…but it lacked one truly defining thing. Purpose.

The waffles finished, and Deadpool was tucking into them with aplomb, pulling up his mask to reveal his disfigured mouth. The Merc with a Mouth suddenly choked on them when, with a ' _BAMF!_ ' noise, a familiar blue-furred, deceptively demonic-looking figure appeared, holding a newspaper. "Herr Black!" Kurt Wagner, better known as Nightcrawler, cried out. "Your newspaper had arrived, and…well, it's not good news!"

Deadpool managed to cough out a spit-covered mangled bit of waffle, and rasped, "Fuck, Kurt, give a guy some warning before you do that!"

"Sorry, Herr Wilson," Kurt said. He was one of the few younger Mutants Laura got along relatively well with, for now. Despite his demonic appearance, Kurt was a gentle soul. He then handed Sirius the newspaper he had, _The New York Ghost_. This was the wizarding newspaper of New York.

Sirius looked at the newspaper, and then began swearing. "Padfoot, what's wrong?" Sarah demanded.

Sirius slapped the newspaper down on the table, and Laura saw the reason for her father's fury. He had regaled her with tales about his friends, of the Marauders, and of the adventure he'd had with his godson. Sirius wanted nothing more than to bring his godson back into his life, but his fugitive status had thrown a spanner into the works. And now, something else had cropped up, something problematic, staring at her in black and white newsprint.

 **HARRY POTTER: THE FOURTH CHAMPION OF TRI-WIZARD TOURNAMENT**

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Sirius has got a lover and a daughter in all but blood. Oh, and he's now teaching at the X-Mansion. But Harry's been roped into the TWT. Might this give Laura the purpose she desires?**

 **Those familiar with** ** _The Cauldron_** **may have noted some elements copied and pasted from my previous attempt at a Harry/Laura pairing,** ** _X-Celsior_** **.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	156. Virtute non Armis Fido Chapter 2

**Well, thanks for the reception to the first chapter of _Virtute non Armis Fido_. Before I get to the second chapter, I'll be posting the first chapter of the _Mass Effect_ crossover, with the working title _Loving the Aliens_ , tomorrow. Keep in mind, there's no guarantee that these stories will become full ones.**

 **Oh, and I make no apologies for the chapter title. It was funny, IMO. So there.**

* * *

 _ **VIRTUTE NON ARMIS FIDO**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **BOY MEETS GIRL, WIZARD MEETS WOLVERETTE**

Harry Potter was not in a good way at this point in time. So when he was summoned to the headmaster's office the Monday evening after his name came out of the Goblet of Fire, he had to admit to feeling apprehensive…and a little angry. Dumbledore had done little to get him out of this. He didn't want to be in this damned Tri-Wizard Tournament, but few believed him. Thank Merlin Hermione did, but he thought Ron would have known better.

So when he gave the password to the gargoyle and stepped through, he wasn't sure what to expect in the office. Certainly not a dark-haired woman in her early forties, and a dark-haired girl about his age, her green eyes shifting to peer at him as he entered. And certainly not a blue-furred leonine shape in a labcoat, one that looked very familiar.

"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore said, from where he was talking to the blue-furred creature. "Come in. I was just talking to Dr McCoy about some of his research."

"Indeed. It is a refreshing change for a wizards to have any knowledge of genetics and cellular biology," the blue-furred creature said.

"…You're Dr Hank McCoy," Harry said flatly, staring at the creature. "You're one of the X-Men."

"Indeed, and call me Hank. I'm more here as a chaperone. Charles is somewhat busy with matters back in New York, but as I have met Professor Dumbledore before, I was sent here. And you must be Harry Potter." Hank walked over, and gently shook Harry's hand with a massive paw. "A pleasure to meet you. Your godfather has spoken to me at great length."

"Sirius?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore nodded. "I have known for some time. Sirius went over to the Americas to avoid the authorities here. He had some notion he could find help with this young lady, Dr Sarah Kinney. You see, shortly before your parents went into hiding, Dr Kinney came here to Britain and met Sirius. In an appalling breach of the Statute of Secrecy," though he said this with a smirk and a twinkle of his eyes, "he confessed, during their affair, that he was a wizard. Dr Kinney was already interested in those with extraordinary powers, particularly Mutants. However, your parents had to go into hiding, and Sirius had to break away from Dr Kinney."

"I returned to the US, but I was later recruited by an organisation known as Weapon Plus, whose Weapon X division was responsible for giving the Adamantium skeleton to Wolverine," Dr Kinney said. "They wished to try again, using genetic samples of Wolverine to create a clone. I was on the research group, and eventually, we realised that the cell samples were too degraded to make a full clone. His Y chromosome was completely unsalvageable. So I put forward a proposition that I donate an X chromosome and a few others to replace the damaged chromosomes. The head of that division did not like that, and forced me to be a surrogate mother." Gently placing a hand on the shoulder of the girl, she concluded, "In the end, I don't regret bearing Laura at all, only what I was complicit in afterwards."

Harry blinked. "Sorry…did you just say…this girl is effectively a female clone of Wolverine?"

"For the most part, I am," the girl said. "My mother has given me the name of Laura Kinney, though my codename, as I was the 23rd attempt to clone Wolverine, is X-23." To illustrate this, with a distinctive ' _snikt!_ ' noise, a pair of shining metal claws slid out of each of her fists, while a single claw poked its way out of each foot.

Harry stared. He couldn't help but do so, even after she retracted the claws. "…Okay. I'm sorry, I'm more than a little confused. I mean, I'm glad that Sirius is all right, and to be honest, I'm a bit jealous he's at the X-Mansion. But I'm not sure what this has to do with me."

"There's a few reasons for that, my dear boy," Dumbledore said. "Frankly, I am sorely disappointed with how young Mr Weasley has reacted. I hope that he will see the error of his ways soon. But to the points I needed to make. The first is that, I have been somewhat economical with the truth. Sirius has managed to win enough favour with MACUSA, that is, the Magical Congress of the United States of America, for them to put pressure on Fudge to rescind the Kiss on Sight order and have Sirius' case reopened. Whether Fudge will do so, I do not know, but in any case, MACUSA has, in effect, granted your godfather asylum in the United States until such time he is pardoned here. So while he has not had his name wholly cleared, it is an important step."

Harry smiled. Maybe it was a small step, but it was an important step all the same, as Dumbledore said. "Okay, so what's the other reasons?"

"It was something Miss Granger spoke to me about. As you are underaged, you will be at a distinct disadvantage, at least in terms of magic that you have learned, in comparison to the other Champions. She pleaded with me to help train you, but I told her that that would not be possible, in order to be seen as not helping you unduly. However, nothing in the rules for the Tri-Wizard Tournament state anything about you getting outside help and training. Indeed, I have been discussing with Dr McCoy about the possibility of you training at Charles' school, also allowing you to meet your godfather. Otherwise, they suggest Muir Island, which is certainly closer, geographically. Dr McCoy also brought up an intriguing possibility that, given the stakes, I have decided to let him investigate, but that can wait for the future. The third reason is, well, Miss Kinney here."

Harry looked at the dark-haired girl, who was watching him with an uncanny scrutiny. He realised she was wearing dark jeans and a shirt with the slogan 'Deadlier than the Male' on it. She was actually quite beautiful, though her impassive expression and her rather stiff, wary posture had alarm bells ringing. "And…what do you have to do with anything, Laura? I mean, I can call you Laura, right?"

The dark-haired Wolverine clone nodded. "…I did not have a childhood," she said bluntly. "I only had training and missions. My mother…she gave me what little trappings of a childhood I had. Then, we escaped. It was only thanks to your godfather, the man I call my father rather than Wolverine, that I was stopped from killing her. I have a family now, a life…but I lack purpose. However, for now, I believe I have found that purpose. My father values your life greatly. Therefore, I decided to assist in your training. And given the potential ill-will against you in this school, I wish to act as your bodyguard."

"I certainly have no objection to Miss Kinney to acting as your trainer. I am more concerned with having her here as a bodyguard. While she claims to know a number of means of dealing with people non-lethally…I don't think it will end well. Wizards do not think much of Mutants for the most part, or at least those in power don't," Dumbledore said.

Harry walked over to Laura, and looked into his eyes. She met his gaze impassively. He had this strange sensation that it was almost like looking at a robot, only, there was a sense of vitality there. She wasn't just a machine. It was almost like looking into a mirror, that feeling of isolation. There was a yearning in her eyes, as if to say, 'make me useful'.

After a moment, he gently hugged her, feeling her athletic body against his own scrawny frame. She stiffened in his grasp briefly, before relaxing, and, a little ineptly, returning his embrace. "Sorry, Laura," he said. "You just seemed like you don't get enough hugs."

"No…I did not."

Harry, after breaking off the embrace, met her gaze again. "…I don't think things are bad enough for me to need a bodyguard, Laura. Anyway, I barely know you. But I wouldn't say no to training. And I'd get to meet the X-Men. I've always wanted to meet you guys since I was little. I even wished I was a Mutant, and Professor Xavier would recruit me for them." He smiled, and said, "And I get to meet Sirius again. How's he doing?"

"Much better now that he doesn't have to be on the run," Sarah said. "The same for myself and my daughter. I have a lot to make up for, especially where Laura is concerned. I am as guilty of what they did to her as the rest of Weapon X. This is my atonement. And she must like you already. She doesn't normally allow people she barely knows to hug her."

"Oh. Well, thank you, Laura," Harry said to the dark-haired girl, who nodded. "Hey, would I be able to take Hermione with me?"

"As long as it is fine with Charles," Dumbledore said. "I have a Floo connection with the X-Mansion. But why Miss Granger?"

"I'm sure she'd love to come. Besides, she's already agreed to help me, so maybe she can brainstorm something with Laura. Would you mind, Laura?"

"No. My father already spoke of Hermione Granger," Laura said. "What of Ronald Weasley?"

Harry winced. "…We're not talking at the moment. He's being jealous."

"Mr Weasley, sadly, believed that, despite my announcements to the contrary, that Harry somehow cheated his way into the Tri-Wizard Tournament. It is my belief that he will realise the truth, eventually. The only question is whether their friendship will survive it," Dumbledore said solemnly. "I have seen friendships sundered for more trivial reasons, I'm afraid…"

* * *

It was shortly afterwards, and, having finished their discussion, Laura watched Harry leave. It had been too much to ask, she realised, having her as a bodyguard. She just had been desperate for some sort of purpose. And to have this…well, it was disappointing.

And yet, meeting Harry was not disappointing in of itself. He had accepted her. True, he did not know everything about what she did when she was under the aegis of Weapon X. But he had to have some notion. After all, one didn't clone one of the most infamously belligerent Mutants just for the hell of it. Plus, 'Weapon X' implied that she was a living weapon, just like her biological father.

Still, that he had accepted her, even hugged her, was promising. True, she wasn't exactly fond of being hugged. Until recently, only her mother did so, and now, the only other one she generally let hug her was her father. She'd almost attacked Harry on reflex, on instinct instilled into her by Weapon X, instincts she still struggled to suppress.

 _You just seemed like you don't get enough hugs_ , he had said. No, she didn't. No, what she got was radiation poisoning to trigger her healing factor, painful surgery to lace her claws with Adamantium, a childhood of abuse and brainwashing that she was still recovering from, and may never fully recover from.

But he cared. He actually bothered to care, and Laura was fairly sure he wasn't lying. Not only that, but he seemed to admire Mutants, even envying them. Not in a bad way, not like some humans did. He had admittedly been startled at McCoy's appearance, but that was normal, sadly. It was little wonder that McCoy's _nom de guerre_ was 'Beast', despite the hulking Mutant's eloquence and intelligence.

Plus…to be perfectly honest, and this wasn't exactly a logical reason…he smelt _nice_. She'd noticed that shortly after he had entered the room. Maybe it was prejudice from her father waxing lyrical about Harry.

But there was something else she saw in his emerald eyes. There was a pain there, not unlike her own. Not as bad as her own, not by a long shot, but enough to be noticeable. Then again, the boy had lost his parents before he was old enough to realise it. He was raised by relatives who, according to Sirius, would have been unpleasant to him at best. He had to deal with fame revolving around the fact that he survived an instant death curse, and his parents didn't. That sort of fame could isolate someone. Hell, Laura was irritated at the fact that she was known at the X-Mansion for being 'Wolverine's clone daughter', not what she was…though she had to admit to being a little grateful that she wasn't seen as a living weapon as often as she could have been.

"Laura, your thoughts on Harry?" Hank asked gently.

Laura said, "Has been through trouble already. Alert, but not to the level of military personnel. Possible mild PTSD. Lacks prejudice against Mutants. Impulsive. Would be unused to high-level combat, but may be capable in a crisis."

"Laura…I think Hank meant your personal thoughts," her mother said.

Eventually, Laura said, a little less stiffly and professionally, "He interests me, though that is partly because of Dad's stories." She turned to Dumbledore, who reminded her all too much of a somewhat more ineffectual Xavier. "What has happened to him?"

"…That is rather a long story. Needless to say, Harry has been through more here at Hogwarts than any of my students should have been," Dumbledore said, having the good grace to look ashamed. "Admittedly, I was very much at fault for a few of those incidents, particularly in his first year. Still…Miss Kinney, I'd like to ask that you do not put Harry through too much when training him."

"He needs to survive a tournament intended to challenge wizards older than him," Laura said. "Not win it, just survive. I will do what is needed to."

Hank coughed quietly. "In any case, I'll examine him when he comes to us. Of course, if my examination bears fruit, it may open another can of worms. Still, I hope that your Minister will see reason and begin proceedings to exonerate Sirius."

"Maybe. But Cornelius refuses to listen to my counsel anymore," Dumbledore said sadly. "The money Lucius Malfoy and his ilk drops into his pocket buys his allegiance more than good advice does. It's a risky gamble, if you find what you're looking for in Harry…but perhaps this is what he needs..."

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry's met Laura, and is not averse to training with her. But what's this that Hank and Dumbledore want to do with Harry?**

 **Now, keep in mind, Laura is not that far out of the influence of Weapon X. She yearns a purpose, and does so in somewhat militaristic terms. She's not emotionless, but rather, she lacks capacity to express it, a bit like Rei Ayanami if she was more of an assassin. Much of this story will be about Laura learning to be more human through her growing relationship with Harry.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	157. Loving the Aliens Chapter 1

**This is a crossover that I've been considering for some time. It's not the first time I've attempted a crossover with _Mass Effect_. Indeed, those who have followed my Compost Heap will have probably seen _Short Change Heroes_ , my attempt to crossover _Mass Effect_ with the British science fiction series _Blake's 7_. And it's not my first attempt to cross it over with the Potterverse, with one of the attempts being a WBWL fic, though none of those efforts even reached the end of a chapter. However, Dis Lexic's 'Sirius' Old Flame' challenge provided the hook needed.**

 **Now, it must be said that, as far as the _Mass Effect_ universe is concerned, this is a massive AU. Tali was born over two centuries before she was supposed to, as is Garrus, Liara has a human father and was born in the 20th century, and the Reapers don't exist. This was inspired partly by Tellur's _Blue Magic_ , as well as the _Mass Effect_ stories of Gregg Landsman (I wholeheartedly recommend _Mass Effect: Glorious Shotgun Princess_ , a crossover with the _Exalted_ tabletop RPG that is awesome and hilarious: in what other story do you have Legion called Wuffles, Shepard capable of punchsploding her foes, and Liara melding with a living planet multiple times).**

 **Also, I'm strongly considering having a Harry/Liara/Tali pairing, though if the story develops away from that, I'm leaning more towards a Harry/Tali pairing. Tali is adorable.**

* * *

 _ **LOVING THE ALIENS**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **THE ALIENS**

 _It was an action borne of desperation more than anything else. He stopped en route at a place he was sure wouldn't have anything ever again. It was an abandoned field not far from London, at the old Potter Estate, now in ruins thanks to Voldemort. He didn't come here to pay tribute to his parents and brother in all but blood, though. He came here partly out of wishful thinking._

 _He remembered when he and James, along with Lily, met the strange woman. Of the fantastic tale she had spun. It was an accident that they had met, but Sirius, oddly enough, had been drawn to that woman. Oh, he had pushed her away in the end, as the war against Voldemort came to a head, and he told her to leave before she got caught up…but it had been a brief but passionate affair._

 _Now, having escaped the Ministry's clutches again, thanks partly to his godson and that Hermione girl, he came here one last time, as a bit of a tribute…and perhaps he had been hoping he would see her again._

 _So he was surprised when, after he brought Buckbeak in to land, he saw a rather familiar mound where none should have been. And as he stared, a door opened on the side of the mound, light spilling out of it…and a familiar figure was silhouetted in the light. But she wasn't alone. A shorter figure, the size of a teenager, stood alongside her._

 _"…You came back?" Sirius breathed._

 _"Only today," the woman said. "It's been a long time, Sirius Black. The media intercept beacon I left last time caught wind of you being a fugitive, though. How in Athame's name did you end up a fugitive?"_

 _"…Pettigrew betrayed us," Sirius said. "It's a long story."_

 _"I'm sure it is. Incidentally…Little Wing…this is the one I spoke to you of," the woman said, speaking to the smaller figure. "This is your father."_

 _Sirius blinked. He wasn't expecting this. He thought back to a night of passion, where he was told to 'embrace eternity', one last time before they parted ways. And as the smaller form walked up to him, tentatively, he stared. He couldn't help it. He was a father, even if it was…well, a strange child he now had._

 _"Hello,"_ _ **his**_ _daughter said, looking at him curiously. "You're my father?"_

 _"…Yes, I am," Sirius said, almost choking up with emotion. So this was how James and Lily felt? He had a child, a daughter, and he hadn't even realised it…_

* * *

Harry Potter was getting annoyed. Not that this was an uncommon state of affairs lately. After all, his so-called friends weren't contacting him. And Sirius hadn't responded to any of his letters ever since he escaped, even when he got entered into the Tri-Wizard Tournament. True, he was a fugitive on the run, and Harry knew getting mail to him would be tricky, but surely owl post would find him anywhere?

And now, here he was, kept in the dark, ever since being bundled off back to Little Whinging after Voldemort's return and Cedric's death. He was getting more and more irritated at the lack of news from Magical Britain.

So when he finally got a letter, Harry was almost tempted to throw it away in a fit of pique, even when he saw it was from Sirius. But eventually, curiosity won out, especially as it seemed to be printed on Muggle paper than scrawled on parchment.

 _I Solemnly Swear I Am Up To No Good,_

 _First things first…I'm sorry, Harry. I was incommunicado when you were entered into that damned Tri-Wizard Tournament. Moony's filled me in on the details, and, well, I'm kicking myself for not being here to help you. I know that's probably little comfort to you, but it's the truth._

 _The reason why I was incommunicado is…well, it's complicated. You see, during the last war, I met a woman, a most extraordinary woman with whom I had a relationship with, a woman who had my child. Yes, I have a daughter, a lovely, beautiful and intelligent daughter. For the past year, we've been travelling. I can't give many details in this letter, probably because you won't believe me, but also because, well, it isn't safe._

 _I haven't been back in Britain for long. Bluntly, the Ministry is pillorying you in_ The Daily Prophet, _calling Dumbledore a senile old fool and you an attention-seeking brat. Fudge is in denial about the Dark Wanker being back, and so he's engaging in character assassination. Still…it's past time, no matter what Dumbledore thinks, that you be trained. Dumbledore is hoping to ensure you don't have to fight any battles, but I think he's being an idiot._

 _Thanks to Moony, I've managed to bring in Hermione. The Weasleys, along with other associates of Dumbledore, are at a special HQ, which I can't say where. However, I'm bringing you here. I don't know what Dumbledore is thinking, leaving you with the Dursleys: I knew them before I was sent to Azkaban. But I'm with some people who are very interested in meeting you. I won't say who or what they are, as it's going to be a surprise._

 _I've enchanted the letter into becoming a Portkey. Activate it by saying 'Mischief Managed'. Pack your trunk first, though, and have Hedwig ready._

 _If you don't know whether it's me or not, remember that you and Hermione rescued me on Buckbeak._

 _Padfoot_.

Harry looked at Hedwig, before he shrugged. While Pettigrew might have known the catchphrase of the Marauders, he wouldn't have known about Buckbeak. And if this did get him away from the Dursleys, then all the better. He might have a sixteenth birthday away from them, with his godfather. He was a bit annoyed that Sirius had been AWOL, true, but if he only just found out he had a daughter…

He packed quietly, and managed to get Hedwig into her cage, before holding onto the trunk and the cage, and murmured, "Mischief Managed." Then, the familiar hook-behind-the-navel sensation came about, and he was whisked away…

* * *

…Only to sprawl near what looked like a barrow. In the distance, as he got up woozily, he could see the ruins of an old manor house. He staggered about slightly, only for what seemed to be a door in the side of the barrow to slide up, and Remus stepped out, along with a rather punkish-looking woman with pink hair. Remus held out his wand at Harry. "What is your Patronus?"

"…A stag?" Harry said, bemused, only to see Remus and the young woman sigh in relief, and pocket their wands.

"Sorry, Harry," Remus said. "We just needed to be sure. You can't be too careful. This is Tonks, a relative of Padfoot's. While she is technically a member of the Order of the Phoenix, she opted to join us."

"Wotcher, Harry," the punkish woman said with a smile. "Just got to warn you, though…you're going to see some weird stuff in here. Like, weirder than Hogwarts."

"How so?" Harry asked. His anger was being replaced by curiosity.

Instead of answering, they gently escorted him into the door, which slid shut behind them. The room they were in was metallic and gleaming, and brightly lit. Harry knew that this couldn't be a wizarding place: he hadn't seen something so technological ever in Magical Britain.

A strange, distorted voice rang out, the voice apparently that of a girl's, but accented. " _Beginning decontamination sequence._ " Beams of light ran up and down the occupants of the chamber. Eventually, the voice said, " _All clear._ "

"…Why do I get the feeling I'm about to walk onto the set of an episode of _Doctor Who?_ " Harry asked, with a sense of foreboding and curiosity.

"Oh, you don't know the half of it," Tonks said with a chuckle. Then, she said, "Hey, Tali, open up the door!"

The door slid open after a rather long pause, and Tonks and Remus went through, eventually followed by Harry, who stopped. And stared. _Well, Toto, you're not in Kansas anymore_ , he thought.

The room beyond, while relatively small, was packed with instrumentation and control panels. Clearly it was in advance of pretty much everything Harry knew of on Earth. Manning one of the consoles was a figure in a figure-hugging spacesuit, apparently female with the hips and breasts, maybe about his age given the stature…with three fingers on her hands, three toes, and different legs that seemed to curve back before they connected to the ankle. Her helmet was purple, opaque save for a pair of glowing eyes. A light seemed situated about where the mouth was, and a veil or hood of some sort covered the top of the helmet.

It was clear that the figure wasn't human.

"Ah, you must be Harry," the girl said, her voice distorted by whatever she was using to speak from her suit, her accent having an exotically pleasant lilt. "A pleasure to meet you. I am Tali'Zorah nar Rayya. Tali for short."

She held out her hand, which Harry took, bemused. "…Uhh, hi. You're…not from around here, aren't you?"

"No. I am a Quarian. Which, as far as humans are concerned, means that I am an alien," Tali said.

"Told you he'd be speechless," Tonks said with a smirk. "Just don't stare too long, Harry. Tali's a bit shy."

And indeed, she was, Harry's scrutiny seemingly making the alien girl uncomfortable. "Oh, sorry."

Tali waved a hand. "It's fine. Once she got over her shock, your bushy-haired friend, Hermione, she began asking all sorts of questions. We'll get to talk later, but for now, I need to finish the maintenance here. One of the servos here is being a real _bosh'tet_."

"Tali's a mechanical wiz," Remus said, as he led Harry and Tonks away. "All Quarians have to be by necessity: they've lived on a massive spacefleet ever since their homeworld Rannoch was taken over by robots. Most of the other species out there don't think much of them, but a few have been brought along on this expedition."

"…Does that mean more aliens?" Harry asked.

"Yes. It's not an invasion, Harry. It's more like an off-the-books expedition to study humans and our culture," Remus said. "Earth is far enough away from what is called Citadel Space that it would take time to come here normally. Oh, Wrex!"

Harry stopped and stared. What was lumbering towards them was a massive, reptilian creature with a humped back, dressed in futuristic armour, with red skin. "Lupin," he rumbled. "Is this the kid?"

"Yes. Harry, this is Urdnot Wrex, a Krogan."

Harry offered his hand, even more apprehensive than when he met Tali, and felt his hand enveloped in the clawed paw of Wrex. "Good to meet you, kid. You're reacting better than the werewolf and Nymphadora here did when they met me. The werewolf damn near pissed himself, and the girl's hair turned white. You've got a quad on you, no mistake."

Harry didn't think so, whatever a quad was, though he could hazard a guess from context. He wondered why he had called Tonks Nymphadora. "Uhh, thanks?"

A rumbling laugh came from the reptilian creature. "I'd better go and see if Varkarian's finished his endless recalibrations on our guns. He ain't too bad for ex-C-Sec." And with that, he lumbered off.

"…Next time he calls me Nymphadora, I'm gonna hex his goddamn quads off," Tonks growled. "Regeneration abilities or not."

"There's at least five different types of aliens in this expedition, not counting humans," Remus said as they started off down the corridor again. "Garrus Varkarian is one of two Turians on the expedition. We also have a Salarian and a few Asari. Don't worry, you'll see them."

"…Okay, so, Sirius said he had a former lover and a daughter," Harry said.

"Nothing _former_ about it," Tonks snorted. "We've had to place silencing charms on their room, given how many times they've 'embraced eternity'. They've been catching up. Then again, he didn't get any in Azkaban…I'm surprised she isn't pregnant again. She's apparently a bigwig amongst the Asari, tipped to become one of their leaders soon."

They came to a door, which slid open, and Harry was promptly attacked by a bushy-haired missile. "Harry!" it cried, embracing him.

Harry looked down to see the familiar features of Hermione Granger looking up at him, smiling. "Hey, Hermione. How dare you get to meet aliens before me?"

His earlier anger had been mostly washed away by the sheer shock of meeting aliens, so his jibe was meant to be facetious. But Hermione flinched anyway. "Sorry. I've only been here for a couple of days. So have my parents. Originally…Dumbledore told me not to write to you, to let you mourn in peace. That was a mistake. Anyway, I've spent a lot of time learning about this, and…oh! I forgot to introduce you two."

Harry realised that they were in some sort of large room, centred around a table with holograms hovering above it. There was only one other occupant of the room, at least for now…and it was another alien.

Harry couldn't help but stare, even though he had been, understandably, doing that a lot. Although this was not just out of any mere strangeness. The alien, a girl about their age like Tali, was also one of the most beautiful people he had ever seen. True, she had blue skin, and strange tendril-like crests instead of hair, and she was dressed in a rather utilitarian outfit that looked like some kind of plastic, but her face was utterly breathtaking.

"Can I introduce myself, Hermione?" the girl asked, as she got up and walked over to Harry.

"Sure."

"Thank you." She smiled at Harry. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Harry. My name is Liara T'Soni, and my father is your godfather…"

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Wow. So, Sirius' former paramour is Benezia, and his daughter is Liara? Just remember, I've done a lot of tinkering with the** ** _Mass Effect_** **timeline. Liara and Tali are teenagers about Harry and Hermione's age, Garrus and Mordin are both around at their standard ages, and…well, Wrex and a couple of the Asari characters could be around, given their ages. No Reapers, though. Fuck the Reapers. The Protheans died out because of a collapse of their empire and other factors. Then again, considering what they turned out to be like in canon, if Javik's any indication, I find myself not giving a fuck.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	158. Our Hearts are Stolen Goods V1 Chapter 1

**Okay, so...I WAS going to post the second chapter of _Loving the Aliens_. But this idea grabbed me, and I managed to get this single chapter out. It's a story I've been meaning to do for some time. For those of you familiar with my _Hellsing/RWBY_ crossover attempt _RWBY SINS_ (the chapters of which are available in the Compost Heap), it may surprise you to know that started out as a Potterverse crossover. I wanted to do a Harry/Neo fic. Unfortunately, I couldn't find the right angle for it.**

 **But then, inspiration struck me, as it does at odd moments. I was looking to try and answer Anubis of the Highway Thieves' 'Of Jumping Dimensions and Drunken Marriages' challenge, which is basically Blood Brandy's Vegas challenge taken up a notch. I realised I could do it with a Harry/Neo story...but I needed to nut out the details. Like why would Harry shack up with Neo, what would they have in common, etc? I decided to do a backstory not dissimilar to, well, a hybrid of _Just a Touch of Kleptomania_ , along with elements of my _Black Lagoon_ crossover _Quoth the Raven_..., and go from there. I'm also using traits from my other Black Lagoon crossover _Disquiet_ for a certain character. Not to mention that the marriage is not actually initiated by Harry, this time...  
**

 **Just a fair bit of warning, Harry's backstory prior to coming to Remnant is pretty bloody dark. It needed to be to get him to the point where he'd be willingly Neo's partner in crime...and romance. Don't get me wrong, Harry will still be heroic, and he will have Neo (and Roman?) work with the good guys rather than Cinder and Salem (a bit like RumbleintheDumbles' _Bad for Business_ )...but he's chaotic good-chaotic neutral for the most part. He's too jaded by what has happened.**

* * *

 _ **OUR HEARTS ARE STOLEN GOODS**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **ICE CREAM HEADACHE**

Roman Torchwick was not the most pleasant of people. He was a liar, a thief and, while he didn't make it a habit (partly because it brought down unnecessary heat from the cops or Hunters, and partly because he loved wearing white coats, and knew how hard blood was to wash out), he was willing to kill if necessary. Lie, cheat, steal, survive, that was his motto. He didn't have friends, only allies. His family were dead, thanks to the Grimm, and the only other members were even more unpleasant than he was now. His prospects as a Huntsman were torpedoed when he beat a particularly obnoxious bully into a pulp. Apparently that idiot still needed a straw to eat.

However, he had one real light in his life. The only person he trusted completely and utterly. Hell, if he was actually capable of feeling love rather than lust, it would be towards this person. Nothing like romantic love: she was too young, about sixteen (and it was hard to tell her age with her rather short stature). Instead, she was his little sister (even without blood ties) and enforcer. Adorable, sweet, obedient, and homicidal. Her Semblance was a thing of beauty, an overpowered thing, true, but he wasn't complaining. His enemies did, though. Quite vociferously. He remembered a White Fang member yelling something about 'hax' before she opened up his throat.

However, she was missing, and Roman was trying to find her. She wasn't answering her Scroll. Now, he knew she could take care of herself, but he had a protective streak. And besides, he needed to know where his employees were at all times.

So he walked into the last place she was in, to his knowledge. She'd said she was off to Junior's club for a drink. Roman had demurred, as he had no desire to go to the club and endure the heavy bass of the doof-doof trance music Junior frequently played.

Roman was one of the few people who could come in to see Junior this early in the morning. Junior, aka Hei Xiong, was one of Vale's few crime bosses, one who kept under the radar by slipping money into the hands of the right people, and not getting involved in anything too flashy. He generally hired out his underlings as muscle for jobs, fencing, and sold information to the highest bidder. He actually owed Roman his position, or at least Roman's cute little enforcer, given what happened to Junior's uncle, a rather venial crime boss known only as the Boss.

Junior was going over what seemed to be the books at the bar, peering at his Scroll, before he looked up, and saw Roman swaggering in. "Roman. I'd ask what you want, but I think it's pretty obvious."

"Oh? Have you somehow developed psychic powers as your Semblance, Junior? Then tell me, what am I thinking right now?"

"That you think my men are inept and that my psychic powers would be hampered by a lack of brainpower."

Roman blinked. That was…uncannily accurate. Then again, they had been associates for long enough that Junior had a good idea of how Roman thought. "You should do a stage show, Junior. You could humiliate people by divulging their secrets. Still, at the risk of putting a pall on the morning, I need to know…"

"…Where your ice cream-eating minion is," Junior said with a roll of his eyes. "The short answer is, she's out the back, in one of my rooms. Probably nursing one hell of a hangover with all the drinks she was knocking back. Best not to disturb her for now."

Roman peered at Junior, and nodded. The burly man was telling the truth, and a part of him relaxed a little. Junior seemed to indicate that, hangover aside, she wasn't in any trouble. Still, it wasn't like her to drink herself into a stupor. "So what actually happened last night?"

Junior scoffed. "She brought in a stray, some scrawny kid in rags, about sixteen. She said…well, typed into her Scroll that he had recently gotten out of prison, and could do with a meal and some drinks. I'm a bit curious about that, she ain't big on charity cases, but she handed over the Lien. The two got to talking…well, he did all the talking, she used her Scroll. I've never really seen her knock back the drinks like that. I didn't hear much, they used a private table, but Melanie and Militia overheard the boy a few times talking about something called 'Gringotts' and some guy called 'Serious Black'. I've never heard of someone like that. Marcus Black, yeah, but 'Serious'? Anyway, at the end of it, they seemed to be very well-acquainted with each other. I offered them a room, and she accepted. The guy had some weird Semblance, like he was able to pull something out of thin air. Gave it to me as a thank you."

Roman watched as Junior pulled out of his pocket a rather magnificent emerald and placed it on the bar. He touched it briefly (but didn't linger: he knew better than to steal from the man he sold his ill-gotten gains to), before remarking, "I assume it's genuine."

"Checked it myself. It's pretty good quality too. It'd fetch quite a lot of Lien. Despite his looks, it seems that your girl may have found a goose that lays the golden eggs. Which begs the question, if he's got something that valuable on him, why does he look like something a Nevermore chewed up and spat out?"

Why indeed? And why did Roman's little sister and enforcer see fit to fraternise with this boy? A fellow thief? Hmm, well, depending on what he found when he went to see what happened, he might not kill him. He might even prove useful…

* * *

For a moment, when the pain pierced his waking mind, the nausea churned his stomach, and the light seemed too damn bright for his liking when he opened his eyes, he thought he was still in that dungeon in the depths of Gringotts. Then, he realised that he was on a rather soft bed, and there was no way in hell the Goblins would let him sleep on anything soft or luxurious. That and, he realised with a thrill of horror, he had a bedmate. A rather warm and soft bedmate, who was snoring gently.

Now, as much as he would like to enjoy this experience, his life for the past year or so had been pretty shitty. Not even alcohol and a hangover could erase that. Admittedly, it was partly his fault. He had gotten sloppy, careless, and he had paid for that with his freedom.

Harry had had a talent for stealing things, from a young age. It had been partly necessity, given what the Dursleys did to him. Even before he learned he was a wizard, he learned that he had the ability to open up a private little space that he would later call his Bag of Holding. And that was before he learned of another ability he had. Under duress, he could halt time. Later, he could do it at will. True, he could only halt time for limited periods, and the concentration needed limited its use in combat, but it proved rather more useful for his thieving endeavours.

And then, Hogwarts, and for a time, Harry thought that everything would be all right, everything would turn out fine. His fame was irritating, true, but it was kind of exhilarating to know he was a celebrity there…until he realised that he was famous for surviving when his parents did not. His first year had gone from good to bad, especially when he got the detention for helping Hagrid with that damned dragon, and he got more points taken off him than Malfoy. And after McGonagall refused to listen to him and his friends about the Philosopher's Stone…well, Harry decided then and there that he'd had enough.

He claimed that the Stone had been destroyed during the battle with Quirrelmort, when in reality, it was stored in his Bag of Holding. Something that could give eternal life AND gold? Yeah, he wasn't going to let **_that_** one go by.

Over the next few years, he began stealing from the Malfoys and other unpleasant Pureblood families. He'd donated some of his ill-gotten gains discreetly to the Weasleys, as well as their neighbours, the Lovegoods. He'd even managed to, albeit with difficulty, break into the lower security vaults of Gringotts, and even that had pissed off the Goblins.

Unfortunately, he did not know it at first, but he got careless during his fourth year. Mad-Eye Moody, or rather, his impostor Barty Crouch Junior, spotted him doing this, and while Barty told him to keep it quiet (which he did), Barty apparently let things slip to Ludo Bagman. The reason was simple: Barty wanted to have Harry suffer, as well as be in a position to be ready to be killed by his lord and master.

Bagman, after everything went south after the Tri-Wizard Tournament, had been cornered by the Goblins, and Bagman, desperate to get his debt with the Goblins annulled, reported Harry as the thief they had been looking for. Harry was exposed, and the Goblins promptly dragged him to a dungeon under Gringotts before he could escape, magic-suppressing cuffs on him. And given how many Purebloods Harry had stolen from over the years, most of Magical Britain turned on him in an instant.

They tried torturing him to find out where the money and valuables were. He didn't give them the information. Then, a disaster. Sirius was caught trying to rescue Harry, and was given the Kiss. Bill Weasley was allowed in to see him, but only for a short time, as the Goblins intended to fire him. Apparently Ginny had been murdered in Diagon Alley along with Molly, and Arthur was intending to take the Weasleys to Romania. Hermione was too, heading to Australia. They had tried to get Dumbledore to release Harry, but Dumbledore just said that it was impossible, and in any case, this was the consequences of Harry's kleptomania. Bill sent the apologies of his friends, and Harry accepted that, resignedly.

Then, Dumbledore himself came to visit Harry. He stated, bluntly, that Harry would not be freed any time soon, that he was so disappointed in Harry for turning down a dark path. Harry had retorted that the Dursleys had mistreated him, and from there, it devolved into an argument that left Harry shaken. He had caught a glimpse of what lay beneath Dumbledore's mask, none of it good. He knew then and there that Dumbledore actually wanted him to die.

A year had passed, and eventually, the Goblins demanded that Harry be taken to the Veil and cast through it, and the Ministry agreed too readily. Unfortunately, at the same time, Voldemort decided to make an appearance, trying to get something from the Department of Mysteries. During the ensuing clusterfuck, Harry ended up falling through the Veil.

He expected to die. After all, the Goblins gloated that it was a form of execution. Apparently some old families chucked their Squibs through the Veil after greasing the palms of the Unspeakables. And yet, he ended up waking up in an alley in this place…not even on Earth anymore.

The shattered moon hanging in the sky was a big clue, after all.

He came across _her_ surrounded by a trio of thugs in the nearby street, one of whom, to his confusion, seemed to have wolf-like ears. He had intervened, using an Expelliarmus to disarm them. He later realised she was far from armless or harmless…as she promptly kicked their arses. But when she looked at him, well, they stared at each other. He did so because she had brown and pink hair, the pink part having white streaks, and her eyes were mismatched, brown and pink. She stared…because despite this being another world, she had recognised him.

He tried to talk to her, only to have her relay to him that she couldn't talk herself. She typed into some sort of mobile phone-like thing, which she called a Scroll, to introduce herself. Both by the name she went by here, and the name she had been known on Earth: Hydra Delphini Lestrange.

She took pity on him, and took him to some loud nightclub, and got the bartender to start sending them drinks. They were both technically too young to start drinking, but apparently she knew the owner and was given a pass, while Harry…well, he hadn't started drinking yet, but that night felt like he should start.

They got to talking…well, he did most of the talking. She had been like him, a little kleptomaniac within the Black household (after her parents were sent to Azkaban, she was reluctantly brought into the Black household), even going so far as to stealing the Black family rings used for marriage. Despite being a Squib, or a supposed one, she had talents as a Metamorphmagus. As the drinks kept flowing and their tongues and inhibitions loosened, they bared their hearts to each other. They were both thieves, both had been shat upon by Magical Britain, and both were now here.

That part of the evening was blurry enough, but what happened next was pretty much gone. He remembered them snogging pretty heavily, a snatch of what sounded like a wedding march…and, well, nothing. Nothing but a drunken haze.

He looked down at his bed companion. To his relief, she was still partly dressed, if only in her underwear. So too was he. Had he slept with her in anything more than the most literal sense, though? And then, he saw his hand…and her own. Both hands had, on the ring finger, the Black family's wedding ring.

As he began to quietly panic, his bedmate stirred, and looked up at him, blinking blearily, her mismatched eyes staring at him. On seeing him, her eyes widened briefly, the irises becoming white, and she flipped off the bed, picked up her parasol, and aimed it at him, a blade sliding out. However, her aggression went away when she truly seemed to recognise him, and she sagged, the blade retracting, only for her to suddenly make a gagging noise. She rushed through a door presumably leading to a toilet, and he heard muted sounds of vomiting.

Harry followed her, and then, he heard, sliding into his mind, _Ugh, and the_ _ **aftertaste!**_ _I don't remember eating carrots!_

It was a girl's voice. In fact, if he didn't know she was mute, Harry would have thought that it came from her. He took a brief peek, and noted, indeed, there looked to be semi-digested carrot floating amongst the vomit in the bowl. "Hey, are you all right?" he asked.

 _Ask me when I'm_ _ **not**_ _half-dead from a hangover. Oh,_ _ **wait**_ _, asking questions of a mute girl is pretty stupid_ , came the voice.

"…Well, sorry for showing concern," Harry said unthinkingly.

The girl blinked, then got shakily to her feet, and peered at Harry, brown and pink eyes meeting emerald. Eventually, he heard the voice again. _Okay, so, if you can hear me, then Dumbledore is a castrated, senile old goat with delusions of adequacy_.

Harry laughed hoarsely, despite himself. "He is, isn't he? I mean, don't you want to shave his beard and force feed it to him?"

 _Actually, I personally think fire would be better, and…huh. So you can hear my thoughts when I think loudly enough_ , the girl said. She looked down at the ring. _Neat. Must be a mental connection. Must've happened when…oh. Oh dear. I think we got married. No priest, no reception, just a pair of drunken idiots and their rings_.

Harry stared at her, before deciding to distract himself from what was probably going to be an aggravating issue. "We didn't…you know…?"

She raised a wry eyebrow. _Shag? No, I don't think so. Thing is about Metamorphmagi, we're pretty aware of what happens to our bodies. Anyway, from what little I remember, I don't think we got any further than kissing and a little caressing. Dunno what came over me. I guess it was too much drink, and learning that the Boy Who Lived had a shitty life too. Plus, thieves like us have got to stick together, right?_

"…I guess," Harry said. He was stranded in another world, away from Magical Britain…away from the expectations made of the Boy Who Lived, and of the consequences of his thieving. And here she was, a fellow outcast from Magical Britain. "Okay, let's start over, now that we're sober." He held out his hand. "Hi, I'm Harry Potter."

She took it, and grinned. _Hi, I'm Hydra Delphini Lestrange…though these days, I go by Neopolitan. But please…call me_ _ **Neo**_ …

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Well, Harry's ended up in Remnant, and has now been wed to Neo…only it was Neo who initiated the wedding, not Harry. And with the Black marriage rings (Walburga and Orion presumably never using them). Oh dear.**

 **Those who have read my previous works will doubtless see some elements of my backstory for Harry cribbed from** ** _Just a Touch of Kleptomania_** **, only without Hermione or Luna being his partners in crime, and without Harry being ridiculously OP. Still OP enough to manage to rob low security vaults at Gringotts. He basically has a somewhat longer-lived version of Dio Brando's Stand, The World, from** ** _JoJo's Bizarre Adventure_** **…and yes, that's his Semblance. He inadvertently unlocked it, even off Remnant.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	159. Our Hearts are Stolen Goods V1 Chapter 2

**So, I was intending to post the next chapter of _Loving the Aliens_ , but after the overwhelming response to the first chapter of _Our Hearts are Stolen Goods_ , I thought I'd give you guys that instead. I'll post the second chapter of _Loving the Aliens_ later, but for now, more Harry/Neo goodness.**

 **Also, before I go on, in case you've missed them, I've posted the first chapters of both _Revenant_ and _Hadrian Kotomine_ as full stories. Check out my profile for further details...**

* * *

 _ **OUR HEARTS ARE STOLEN GOODS**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **THIEVES LIKE US**

There was a sudden banging on the door to the room. "Neo?" came a distant voice. "Neo, are you all right?"

 _Sorry, it's the boss_ , Neo said through their link. _Let me handle this_. She strutted over to the small pile of clothing near the bed, grabbed a jacket to drape around herself, and then opened the door. Harry couldn't see who was there from this angle.

"Oh, Neo, good. Hmmm…is there anything that went on that I should know about?" Neo shook her head. "He didn't force you?" Neo shot him a glare. "Oh, right, I should be worried about the other guy, even if you're drunk. No blood on the bed, which is always a good sign, that's a bitch to get out. Junior showed me the emerald your sleeping partner tipped him with. So…we're cool for now?" Neo nodded. "Right. Have a shower, freshen yourself up a bit, and then come down for breakfast. Also, bring your new friend."

Neo nodded, and shut the door, before strutting over to Harry, who felt his stomach lurch, and he emptied it into the toilet just in time. After he was done, he muttered, rubbing his head, "Do you have paracetamol?"

She shrugged, and then opened a medicine cabinet, plucking out a packet of tablets and a couple of glasses. Gratefully, he took one and swallowed with a glass of sink water (after rinsing his mouth out first). Neo did the same. _Ugh, having an awakened Aura is good in a fight, but it does bugger all against hangovers_.

"Aura?"

 _Oh, right. That thing you described to me sounds like a partly-awakened Semblance. It's like magic, only, it's unique to you, and based on your Aura. Your Aura is…well, basically your soul, but extruded to be like a force field. For example…_ Suddenly, Neo seemed to crack and fall apart, like she was a pane of glass. Harry was startled, and even more so when he felt a tap on the shoulder. He found Neo behind him, her arms full with her clothes. She snickered softly, before saying, _I can shape space, creating illusions and allowing me to teleport, even though I'm a Squib. Not far, just far enough to be able to make a quick getaway_.

"…Handy for a thief. Ditto with your…well, you said you were a Metamorphmagus, didn't you?"

 _Of course. I just like looking like this, because I'm fabulous_. She winked. _Now, shoo. My turn in the shower first. We may be husband and wife, but I'm wearing the pants in this relationship_.

"Fine, fine…" Harry said.

* * *

After showering and some teasing from Neo, Harry was led down to the nightclub he remembered dimly from the night before. Neo was dressed in the outfit she was wearing before, with a brown corset-like top, a white coat over it, and black trousers, coupled with her parasol. There were mostly cleaning staff present, but there was a man seated at the table Neo was bringing him to, one whom Harry was wary of right away.

The man had red hair swept to one side, covering part of a rather devilishly handsome face. He wore a rather snazzy white coat, and a bowler hat was currently on the table, as was a walking stick. The man looked up at their approach, his visible eye green, and surrounded by mascara. "So, Neo, this is the stray you picked up. Hmm, quite a bit scrawny. He does look like a prison escapee. Definitely needs new threads, too. So, introductions are in order. I am Neo's employer, Roman Torchwick. And you are…?"

"Harry Potter."

"Hmm, not a name I've really heard around much. Then again…I wonder…I know Neo isn't from around here, not originally. Can I guess that you too are…from out of town?"

Neo nodded. "And how do you figure?" Harry asked. He wasn't sure he liked Roman's tone, a bit like Snape's, only more liltingly smarmy as opposed to the cold, acid tones of his former Potions teacher.

"Give me some credit," Roman said, indicating for Harry to sit down. Harry did so when Neo encouraged him with a tug on his hand. "You're new to town…new to Remnant too. For the past little while, there's been a rather irritating obsession with naming people after colours on Remnant. I didn't really believe at first what Neo told me…well, wrote down for me, but I thought, as long as she was useful, I didn't care. But…you're from Earth too?"

"…Yes."

"Hmm. Still, Neo, could you tell me why you picked him up?"

Neo began typing into her Scroll, and then showing Roman the sentences. _Came out of the alley where a few thugs were threatening me. Disarmed them, not knowing that I could kick their arses. I…recognised him. Let's just say that Harry is famous back home_.

"What, in general, or those inbred retards you called wizards?" Roman asked.

Harry couldn't help but laugh, before he said, "The wizards. I didn't know I was famous until I was eleven."

"And what were you famous for?"

"…Being orphaned by a wizarding terrorist," Harry said with a scowl.

"…Oh, right, this…Voldemort guy Neo mentioned," Roman said. His eye widened. "Ohh, you're this 'Boy Who Lived' she mentioned once! Ah, I see. Well, what brings you to Remnant, kid?"

Harry opened his mouth, whether to recite his history or to tell Roman to piss off, he wasn't sure yet. Especially with Roman calling him 'kid'. But Neo gently put a hand on his arm, and looked at Roman. Roman put his hands up. "Okay, okay, we'll hear that story later. Still…I'm guessing it was a shitty time. And a prison escapee, too. And thankfully not from a prison on this world. So…what to do?"

Neo held up her Scroll after typing on it. _He comes with us_.

"Really, Neo? You can't just drag home every stray you come across and expect me to be okay with it. Remember what happened to that cat?"

Neo tapped the message on the screen more insistently. "Fine, don't listen to the voice of reason," Roman complained. "Anyway, I was thinking you both could do with some breakfast first. Then, we can figure out what to do with you. By the way, why do you have rings on your fingers?"

Harry facepalmed, while Neo smirked as she typed into her Scroll. _Because we're married_.

"WHAT?!"

Harry was lucky that Neo used her parasol to pin Roman's walking stick to the table as he was about to snatch it up, quicker than he realised something was happening. The look she shot Roman had the red-haired man eventually taking away the walking stick. "Okay, okay…no beating the crap out of your new pet."

"Husband," Harry said.

 _Pet husband_ , Neo typed into her Scroll. _Anyway, what can you do to him that I can't do a hundred times worse if I didn't like this?_

"…Fair point," Roman conceded. He looked over at Harry. "Okay, kid. What can you do?"

Harry sighed, before he triggered his ability. The world seemed to ripple and distort, briefly flaring from positive to negative, accompanied by a sound that seemed to be an unholy hybrid of a clock grinding to a halt and some eldritch abomination's flatulence. Everything had come to a complete stop.

He stole Roman's cane, his hat (which he promptly put on his head: he didn't like Roman much so far, but he couldn't fault the man's taste in headwear), reached into his coat and pulled out what he found inside (a bunch of what looked like credit cards, a cigar, and a lighter), then sat down, just as he felt that ability finish. Roman suddenly started when he saw Harry wearing his hat, wielding the cane (why did it have a trigger? He didn't want to pull it and find out), with a cigar in his mouth and the lighter in his hand. "I can steal things in the blink of an eye."

"Super speed? Hmm, no, didn't see any blur…a time stop, perhaps," Roman said, musing. "Handy. But I'd prefer to steal from other people, not have it happen to me. Hand my stuff back over. Except the cigar. It's been in your mouth and I dunno where that's been."

Harry rolled his eyes, handing the stuff back over. "Why does your walking stick have a trigger?"

Roman chuckled, even as he plucked his hat back off Harry's head. "Because she's also a gun. She's the Melodic Cudgel, and she's a beauty. Neo's Pernicious Parasol doesn't have a gun…but she doesn't need one. That little bumbershoot is capable of reflecting almost anything. Bullets, Dust blasts…oh, wait, you probably don't know anything about Dust. I'll leave teaching duties to your…heheheh…lawfully wedded wife. Little bit of advice, kid, don't ever think about divorce. Neo would take the whole 'til death us do part' bit _very_ seriously."

Harry looked at Neo, who smirked. And given that she was the daughter of Bellatrix Lestrange, he could believe that. He remembered the Pensieve memory he had seen of her trial, and of Bellatrix's attack on Neville's parents, accompanied by her husband, brother-in-law, and Barty Crouch Junior. "I'll keep that in mind…"

* * *

They had breakfast, and then left the club. Their first port of call was a clothing shop. For the time being, Harry made do with a decent shirt and trousers, rather plain, but it was better than the rags he had been in in the Gringotts dungeon. Then, they made their way through a number of back-alleys to an industrial part of the city, and then he was brought into a warehouse. He was, apparently, in the company of one of the more accomplished thieves in Vale.

"Home sweet home," Roman declared sardonically. "Now, I'm only letting you here because Neo vouches for you, and, well, you could be useful. I run a small operation with Neo. If there's something valuable to steal, we take it. We do so quickly, quietly, and efficiently, avoiding as much attention from the local police as possible, as well as from Beacon. I've been arrested once, and I managed to get bailed out thanks to one of Junior's lawyers. Got the crap beaten out of me by the cops, but still…not an experience I want to repeat."

"I'm sure," Harry said.

"Good, so we understand each other. By the way, Junior said you managed to pull an emerald from thin air. Got anything else?"

"…Yeah," Harry admitted reluctantly. He'd stolen this stuff himself, he wasn't going to share it with this red-haired wanker.

"Hmmm…tell you what. Take out a decent selection of whatever you have, if you've got something left over, and I'll have Junior sell it off. Get you a decent amount of Lien. Obviously, we can't sell too much at once, or else the authorities will get suspicious, prices of valuables will go down…and vultures of the underworld might start circling. And frankly, I'd like to keep this operation as quiet and inconspicuous as possible. I already have a touch too much infamy for my liking."

"Yeah…I know that feeling," Harry remarked. "…Also, Lien?"

"Money." Roman took out the credit card-like things from earlier. "Now, Neo tells me you wizards had coins, and the rest of the mere mortals on your worlds had banknotes, but we have Lien cards, and have done so for the past couple of decades. Coins and banknotes still are around, but they're mostly cards."

Harry nodded. So, Lien instead of Galleons or pounds. He reached into his dimensional space, and pulled out a small handful of gems. "Will this do for now?"

Roman grinned. "Yes. That will do nicely. Like I said, we can't fence too many at once. Seriously, though, you must've hit up a lot of rich arseholes to get this kind of stuff. Better in our hands than theirs. How much have you got in there?"

"Probably enough for Neo and I to retire comfortably, rich and happy."

Roman seemed about to retort, before he said, "Yeah. Well, to be honest…I'd rather she be happy. Hey, Neo, you ever get around to telling the new kid about how I found you?"

She shook her head. "What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"Kid…when I first found Neo…she had been brought before the Boss. Remember that guy Junior? The Boss was his uncle, and a right piece of work. Now, I'm a scumbag, I'll admit it, but the Boss? He was probably the most ruthless crime lord in the whole of the Vale, and the only reason he got away with it was because he paid off the right people. Even then, I heard that old Ozpin was considering sending in a Hunter. And…well, the Boss liked 'em young. Neo's sixteen, but when we met…well, she was ten. She'd been brought before him, nominally about some business deal to act as a thief, as she already had a reputation…but in truth…"

Harry scowled. "…So what happened?"

Neo smirked, before she showed off the blade in her parasol. "Neo happened," Roman said with a smirk of his own. "You see, I had been called to the Boss for, allegedly, poaching on his turf. Paranoid old bastard wanted to off me, so I intended to take pre-emptive action. Junior and I were already friends…well, acquaintances. And what do I come across but Neo having singlehandedly mangled the Boss and his men? The Boss was still alive, but barely, given how much his insides were on the outside. Neo finished him off when I said my piece, and after she washed herself off, she told me…well, with a pen and paper, that she wanted ice cream. Neapolitan, to be precise."

"…Oh, now I get it," Harry said, looking at Neo's hair. She rolled her eyes, as if to say, _Took you long enough_ , before she strutted over to a fridge, and pulled out a tub of Neapolitan ice cream. "…So, if I'm part of this organisation, I'm not going to have to kill anyone?"

"Only if they're trying to kill us first, newbie. Killing people gets more attention than theft, and the VPD have their hands full trying to deal with the White Fang. Oh, another thing Neo will have to teach you about. Little tip. If you see people with animal ears or tails, don't stare. They don't like it. Those are Faunus."

Huh. Another thing to get up to speed about on this world. Then again, while he wasn't sure he wanted to be in Roman's company (and Neo's was looking a bit shaky, given that she was Bellatrix Lestrange's daughter), he was stuck with them for the time being. And maybe this would be the fresh start he needed…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry's met the parent…well, big brother figure, of Neo. Hilarity ensues.**

 **How Neo met Roman is a variation on a backstory I've used for two of my other** ** _RWBY_** **crossovers,** ** _Neopolitan and the Goblet of Fire_** **, and** ** _Pulvis et Umbra Sumus_** **.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	160. Loving the Aliens Chapter 2

**Wow. I'm astonished at the response to _Our Hearts are Stolen Goods_. Now, it'll be quite some time before that, or indeed any of these, are published as full stories. And whether they get enough chapters to warrant publishing is another thing entirely. **

**A guest reviewer asked how versatile Harry's Semblance is. He can do pretty much anything Dio Brando or Jotaro Kujo can do with their own time stop abilities in _JoJo's Bizarre Adventure_. So, basically, if Harry wanted to slit their throat, surround them with knives (or Dust about to be ignited), or, heaven forbid, drop a steamroller on them with a scream of "ROAD ROLLER DA!", he can, as long as he does so within the time limit of the time freeze. They also asked whether Harry and Neo's marriage with the Black family rings mean that they are Lord Black...and I'm going to go with 'yes'. Ditto their asking whether Marcus Black or one of his ancestors was another Black family member tossed through the Veil. However, that's about as far as we're going to go, so far, and I don't know whether that story will get far enough to be published.**

 **As for this one, I meant to post it sooner, but _Our Hearts are Stolen Goods_ got more attention. It's worth pointing out that, for now at least, I'm not intending to make any more contributions to _The Cauldron_. If I get inspiration for a story, that may change, but for now, I've two new published stories on my plate, not to mention other possible new stories, like this one, to post.**

* * *

 _ **LOVING THE ALIENS**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **EXPOSITION OF AN EXPEDITION**

"Actually, I have to admit, I've come to enjoy a nice cup of Earth tea since my mother introduced me to the beverage," Liara said as Remus poured them cups. "There are equivalents on other worlds, including my own homeworld, Thessia, but I enjoy learning about new cultures and experiencing them."

Harry nodded. He had, by now, gotten used to everything. Like the fact that he was currently in a spaceship. The fact that Remus was making tea helped normalise things. That, and the fact that Liara acted so, well, human. Rather gentle and dignified, too. "So…why are you guys here?"

"Officially? We're not," Liara said. "The Citadel Council has had a rather potted track record when it comes to First Contact scenarios. The Rachni and the Krogan come to mind. However, after an expedition to a nearby star system picked up radio signals, we came to investigate. We intercepted, quite by chance, a message encoded in a radio signal. We later learned that it was transmitted by a radio telescope in 1974. That we intercepted it was a miracle(1). It took some time to understand the meaning of the message, but eventually, an initial expedition was mounted. My mother volunteered to lead it."

"She is mostly an ambassador," Hermione explained. "Asari in general are noted diplomats, amongst other things. That way, if First Contact was ever actually made, things could be resolved peacefully, hopefully."

The door slid open, and Tali walked through. " _Keelah_ , that was irritating. This is meant to be a new ship, and yet, that servo was being stubborn," she remarked, walking over to a dispenser.

"New technology sometimes has bugs to be worked out, Tali," Liara said. "At least it was acting on the failsafe."

"You're right. A malfunctioning airlock door had better stay shut instead of staying open," Tali said, taking out a bottle of drink and a straw, before inserting said straw into her helmet, and then into the drink bottle. "I've managed to fix it, though. I had to fix something like it back home on the Fleet as one of my first official repair jobs."

"You're not having tea, Tali?" Harry asked.

"As much as I'd love to, there's a couple of factors preventing me," Tali said, before sipping from her drink. "Firstly, Quarians have a dextro-based biology."

Hermione interjected. "She means the chirality of her amino acids, Harry. Quarians and Turians basically have different proteins to us. I know you probably don't understand this, but the upshot is, she can't have foods with our levo-based proteins. At best, she doesn't get any protein nutrition from that. At worst…she could go into anaphylactic shock. Even if she doesn't, it'll probably give her some bowel problems."

While much of that went over Harry's head, he took Hermione's word for it. Tali nodded. "Thanks, Hermione. Secondly…well, I wear this suit for a reason. Earth's atmosphere is perfectly breathable for Quarians, or really any species in Citadel space, barring the Volus, but my people's immune systems were weak, even before we were forced from Rannoch. It's almost nil now. Unless I'm in a sterile room or I take special boosters, I could easily die from infection. This drink is specially sterilised and filtered, as is the emergency induction port."

"She means the straw," Tonks said with a smirk.

"Emergency. Induction. _Port_ ," Tali said forcefully.

"To- _may_ -to, to- _mah_ -to," Tonks retorted.

Tali shot Tonks a glare through the visor of her helmet, before she said, "So, were you bringing Harry up to speed, Liara?"

"Yes. We were telling him about my mother's first expedition." Liara looked back to Harry. "The ruined manor house not far from this site was actually your own ancestral seat, Potter Manor. At the time, my father was living there with the Potters, until it was destroyed by Voldemort. My parents met for the first time in 1978 by your calendar. My mother, however, was forced to leave during early 1980. The expedition was deemed too risky for now, and not just because of Voldemort's terrorism."

"Keep in mind, Harry, that was when the Cold War looked like it was heating up again," Remus said. "In addition, there were some issues back at Thessia, so…"

"My mother left for home. She did not realise it initially, but she was pregnant with me as a result of the last liaison she had with my father," Liara said, blushing slightly. "We returned to Earth for a brief recce, only to have my father stumble across us. We decided to take him to the Citadel, and then to Thessia. Unfortunately, that meant he wasn't here for when you got involved in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. I'm sorry, Harry, I was so overjoyed to meet my father, and…"

Harry waved her off, though he did feel a slight pang of jealousy at the blue-skinned alien girl who monopolised the godfather he hadn't even gotten to know properly. "It's okay," he said, a little insincerely. "So you're back now?"

"Yes. For a longer term mission," Tali said. "My friend Prazza and his parents were hired as the maintenance and SIGINT personnel for this mission. I volunteered when another position was available. Technically, this doesn't count as my Pilgrimage unless I bring something really useful back, and it'd be hard on a world like this one that hasn't even discovered FTL travel…oh, sorry, you don't know about the Pilgrimage, do you, Harry?"

"No. What is it?"

"It's like a coming-of-age journey for Quarians," Remus said. "They leave the Migrant Fleet, their home, and travel the galaxy, looking for something of worth to the Migrant Fleet. It can be anything from vital supplies like food, fuel, and so on, as long as it's in large quantities, all the way up to starships."

"Even knowledge and information can be useful, like new computer programs, or new tactics for fighting the Geth," Tali said.

"Geth?"

"The AIs that drove the Quarians off their homeworld," Liara explained. "The Council's treatment of the Quarians during and after that fiasco is an understandable source of conflict. Many view Quarians as vagabonds at best. The Quarians hold a lot of resentment for the Council in their turn."

"They're treated a bit like the Gypsies," Hermione said. "Apparently, it's not helped by Quarian criminals being exiled off the Migrant Fleet and onto other worlds."

"…And the fact that you're all speaking English?" Harry asked.

"Omnitools," Tali said, summoning an orange hologram around her arm. "Like a computer you can wear on your wrist, only with a lot more. Translation functions are standard, and Liara's mother learned English when she was last here."

"Actually, where is she? And Sirius?" Harry asked, fighting a pang of annoyance at the fact that Sirius wasn't here to greet him.

"Conferring with the Citadel Council," Liara said. "We have an experimental Quantum Entanglement Communications system. And given that we have a SPECTRE on board, it would make things even more complicated."

"SPECTRE?"

"The nearest translation to the term in English," Tali said. "SPECial Tactics and REconaissance. When we explained it to the humans, they said it was like a hybrid of an SAS soldier and James Bond. SPECTREs are elite special operatives answerable only to the Citadel Council during their operations. Spies, assassins, detectives and special forces soldiers rolled into one. They're pretty much all Asari, Turians and Salarians. The one we have on board, Tela Vasir, is an Asari, and she's brought along a Turian that she thinks would make a good SPECTRE, Nihlus Kyrik. Anyway, the Council's probably getting on their cases because they brought you here."

"Me?"

"We're here on a covert mission, and the more humans we expose ourselves to, the more the mission can be potentially compromised," Tali explained. "Especially if said humans have abilities that make biotics look tame by comparison. I'm still trying to wrap my head around your mother's theories that it relies on virtual particles as opposed to the mass effect. The things I've seen this so-called 'magic' do… _Keelah_ , it's strange. And eezo isn't involved."

Before they could say anything further, one of the doors slid open, and a trio of people walked through. Two of them were clearly Asari. One of them had a rather stern, but still beautiful face, dressed in black, vaguely reminding her of McGonagall, if she was a sexy blue-skinned alien. The other looked younger, but appeared to have tattoos on her face, and was wearing armour. And the lone human…well, he looked much less haggard, his hair was more neatly trimmed, and he was dressed in rather more modern clothing than Harry expected. But it was Sirius, who was saying to the armour-clad Asari, "…Turian Councillor could do to remove the ten-foot staff lodged firmly up his…"

The black-clad Asari cleared her throat pointedly. "Sirius, a little more decorum, please." A faint smile twitched at her lips, though she indicated Harry. "He's here. And clearly has been for some time. How is he coping, Little Wing?"

Liara nodded. "Very well, Mother. Harry, allow me to introduce you to my mother, Lady Benezia T'Soni, and SPECTRE Tela Vasir. Sirius needs no introduction."

Sirius smiled, and walked over to Harry, hugging him. "Hello, Harry. Sorry it's been so long. But…I think this might be worth it. This is Benezia."

Harry decided to leave things until later. Instead, he proffered his hand towards the black-clad Asari, Benezia, though he fought down a clench of irritation at this woman who kept his godfather incommunicado. "Hello…umm, what do I call you?"

"Lady Benezia will do for now," the Asari said, but she took his hand anyway. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Harry Potter. Your godfather speaks highly of you. And I met your parents shortly before I had to leave. I was saddened to hear of their passing."

Tela took his hand next. "Call me Agent Vasir," the Asari SPECTRE said. She looked at Liara and Tali. "How much has he been brought up to speed?"

"A potted lesson on the basics of galactic society, and why we're here," Tali said. "We were trying to make him feel at ease."

"Especially after meeting Wrex," Tonks said, grimacing. "If he's meant to be a more thoughtful version of his people, I'd hate to meet the average Krogan."

One of the doors had slid open by that point, and Wrex was waddling through. "I'd be insulted," rumbled the reptilian alien, "but I know you're right from experience. Can't even blame the nuclear winter or the genophage for that one. So, what did those self-important pyjaks on the Council have to say?"

"The usual contrarianism," Tela said, grimacing. "In theory, it's because, being accountable to only the Council, we SPECTREs get more scrutiny from them to compensate for the lack of legal oversight. In practise…well, I know for a fact that Councillor Caligus rides roughshod over any SPECTRE who isn't a Turian, and they want more information. And Caligus is putting pressure on me to fast-track approving Nihlus becoming a SPECTRE. Nihlus is a good agent, and he'll make an excellent SPECTRE, but there's a reason for the little probationary period we're doing. Better him than that other one Caligus suggested, Saren."

Benezia frowned. "Saren is indeed a good agent, when used in the right way. But he seems to be overly ambitious and with a low opinion of too many. He would lack the tact needed on a mission like this."

"And in other breaking news, Tuchanka is a shithole," Wrex scoffed.

"And you have tact?" Tali asked, her tone suggesting a certain amount of credulity.

Wrex scoffed. "Tact to the average Krogan is not headbutting everyone they meet, kid."

Harry looked at the larger alien. "…That bad?" Wrex nodded.

Sirius cleared his throat to gain attention. "Anyway, Harry…welcome to the…um, _Illuminating Eye_ , I think it is in English. You've met some of the crew already. Now, the mission is mostly a scientific one, meant to observe humans and their culture. The Citadel Council are very interesting in wizards and witches, given that they have abilities, well, different to what is known in the galaxy. They do have some abilities not unlike some forms of magic, called…biotics, weren't they? Anyway, this mission also has another reason. We're hoping to pave the way to a First Contact scenario eventually, a peaceful one. But there's something else." Sirius closed his eyes. "Harry…I don't think Dumbledore is doing enough to prepare you for what's to come. Moony told me that Dumbledore claimed he wanted to 'give you a normal childhood', but that's bollocks. You've faced Voldemort…how many times now?"

Harry frowned. "Not counting when I was a baby…three times?"

" _Keelah_ …" Tali murmured. "Given what Sirius has told us about this Voldemort, you must've been considerably lucky."

"My luck is bipolar," Harry explained. "I get into a lot of bad situations, but manage to claw my way out of them." He scowled at the thought of Cedric, sprawled in the graveyard, and said, quietly, "Not everyone did."

Sirius nodded solemnly. "But that's not my point. Luck doesn't last forever, and without some more help, I don't think you're going to live to enjoy adulthood."

"Officially, we are here unofficially," Benezia said. "And even if we were, we cannot be seen to take sides in a local conflict. However, personally…I wish to help you, Harry. You mean a lot to Sirius, and you are a symbol of hope to Magical Britain. They doubtless look to you as a shepherd of sorts. Well, when they are not lambasting you in the press. Magic and biotics are not dissimilar in some regards, from our investigations, and there are certainly things that would help you. We will not force you into this, of course…but we are offering to help."

"In exchange for what?" Harry asked.

"Helping us with our expedition. A human perspective on the information we gather. Being the face of humanity for the Citadel."

"So, no pressure," Wrex remarked.

 _Too bloody right_ , Harry thought to himself. He needed time to think about this. Not making the decision itself: anything he could use to stop Voldemort, he'd take. But the enormity of the decision, becoming the face of humanity to bloody aliens…he needed to contemplate things…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry's been reunited with Sirius…but it's not the best of reunions. He's feeling some discontent still, and maybe when the shock goes away, he might start getting ornery.**

 **1\. They are referring to the Arecibo Message, a famous message sent out into space in 1974. Although sent towards the Hercules Globular Cluster, I thought it could have been, potentially, intercepted by another alien race, though it would have to be pretty lucky to do so…**


	161. Post Tenebras Spero Lucem Chapter 1

**Before I get onto the story, a bit of an update. Progress is slow on _Loving the Alien, Our Hearts are Stolen Goods_ , and _Virtute non Armis Fido_. Part of this is due to my motivation to write lately being on a low ebb, and each story has its own individual problems to deal with. I'm hoping to post at least one of them as a full story in the future, but ATM, it's not looking good. Hopefully, that will change.**

 **Also, I've posted another poll on my profile. Check it out.**

 **Now, this story idea is a tentative one. It's a WBWL fic with a Honks pairing (Harry aged up a few years) and James-bashing, inspired by DZ2's 'Project Zeus' challenge...and it's a crossover I haven't done before, but have intended to for quite a while. Namely, _JoJo's Bizarre Adventure_.**

 **I'm actually going along a similar line to what I've done with _Overlord_ in _Yield to the Darkness_ , in that I am integrating characters from _JoJo's Bizarre Adventure_ into the Potterverse, with a different version of their history. How different? Well, Jonathan is still alive by this point (and the Potterverse version of the _Phantom Blood_ arc took place in the 50s here), Joseph is his son as opposed to his grandson (with Elizabeth/Lisa Lisa and Holly being Joseph's siblings), and Jolyne and Jotaro are Jonathan's grandchildren by Joseph and Holly respectively. Yeah, I know this is gonna piss off the purists of _JoJo's Bizarre Adventure_ , but given what happens at the end of a certain story arc, I think it can boil down to continuity reboots and multiverse theory being a bitch.**

 **Oh, and Harry and Tonks are now Pillar Men. No, really.**

* * *

 _ **POST TENEBRAS SPERO LUCEM**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **DISCOVERY**

There was an air of impatience to the handsome blonde-haired man…if you could call him a man any more. Now, his features had something of the diabolical beauty of Satan himself, with the same darkness and danger. He rapped his fingers irritably on the armrest of the chair he was seated on, before finally, the door opened, and a Chinese man in a labcoat appeared, walking into the dim office. "Well?"

The Chinese man bowed briefly, not the style of bow often used in China and Japan as a matter of etiquette, but rather, something less formal but certainly more deferential. "Sir, we have finally gotten a report, albeit with extreme difficulty. As we suspected, that facility was raided by the Speedwagon Foundation."

"Hmm…it seems that they have gotten lucky…or perhaps their intelligence-gathering has become better. Or perhaps we have a mole. A traitor amongst the ranks. Well, we will sniff them out in due course. Tell me, Wang Chan, were the test subjects destroyed or taken?"

"Evidence suggests that they have been taken away, sir," Wang Chan said. "Though given the lineage of one of them…"

"Yes…and we never perfected a means of controlling them. We'd only finished concluding the hybridisation experiments and the tests of their abilities," the leader mused. "Not a complete disaster, as we know now that it works. Still, while we kept little sensitive data onsite, we should ensure that we move our headquarters again, and see if we can secure the other sites. And the Stone Masks were taken?"

"Most were destroyed, but there is evidence that some were removed, sir," Wang Chan said.

"Hmm. Well, it's a fair bet to know that they were taken to the Speedwagon Foundation. No doubt that old fool and his backers are putting their researchers onto the matter. With any luck, they will destroy them outright. And if not…well, I, Dio, will have the means to deal with them in any case…"

* * *

The Speedwagon Foundation. A non-profit R&D organisation founded in the Fifties by former street hoodlum and now oil tycoon Robert EO Speedwagon, funded by his corporation. Medical research, archaeology, engineering, Speedwagon was very much a rags-to-riches success story, and he was known to have a link to the Joestar family, a long-established line of British nobles.

But people didn't know that the Speedwagon Foundation also had a remit to investigate the unexplained and supernatural, or at least what most people would consider to be such. And it had been waging a shadow war for decades against another organisation in the shadows, an organisation led by someone who was once one of their own. Not to mention against various creatures that were considered to be myth.

They were tolerated, at best, by the various magical governments of the world. At worst, they were considered an enemy, for while the Speedwagon Foundation employed many mages, it was run by those without magic, for the most part. The relationship was particularly contentious in the Joestar's native Britain, and in the US, where Speedwagon had made much of his fortune. Mages in both countries were particularly hidebound, and felt that the Speedwagon Foundation and the Joestars, despite their links to magic and their efforts to help the dispossessed in both countries, were upstarts and disruptors of the natural order.

However, a true spark that was about to ignite a conflagration of conflict between Magical Britain and the Joestars and their allies had been ignited when, upon acting on a tipoff from an informant, they had raided the bases of one of their greatest adversaries…

* * *

In the training room at the Speedwagon Foundation, a blue-haired man, burly, but with an air that made him seem like a gentle giant (and indeed, a gentleman), gently breathed in a specific, rhythmic fashion. He appeared to be in his forties, but was actually in his sixties. He sparred with what looked like a young man with similar features, but brown hair and a more cocky demeanour, and a blonde-haired man who had the air of a playboy. As they fought, strange yellow sparks seemed to crackle around their bodies, intense like the Sun.

Soon, the sparring match was over, and the blue-haired man smiled. "Good work, both of you. You've learned some new skills while training under Master Tonpetty."

"Of course, whaddya expect, pops?" the brown-haired young man asked with a grin.

The blonde rolled his eyes. "Your son's ego still needs deflating, Signor Joestar."

The blue-haired man, Jonathan Joestar chuckled. "And yours does not, Caesar? It's little wonder Master Tonpetty chose Elizabeth as his protégé to make into his successor."

"Well…she is a worthy successor," Caesar admitted. "A shame it was not a Zeppeli, but…well, that is beside the point. Signor Joestar, why did we bring back those…things from Dio Brando's laboratory? My father made it his life's mission to destroy the Stone Masks and their vile creations, not to mention their creators."

Jonathan Joestar blinked, before he walked out of the room, heading for the changing room. As the other two followed him, he said, "Caesar, I understand your reluctance, and I too share it. However, we need to understand what Dio is doing. He was experimenting not only with the Stone Masks, but also hybridisation with the Pillar Men."

Both Caesar and the brown-haired young man stopped. "Whaddya talking about, pops? That's crazy!"

"Well, Dio Brando is not exactly a paragon of sanity, Joseph," Jonathan said. "However, it is not wholly out of the question. We have no reason to believe that human and Pillar Men DNA are not compatible, given that they presumably evolved from a common hominid ancestor. And given that we have evidence of someone taking samples from a number of the Pillar Men we discovered…Dio presumably intended to try and exploit their abilities."

"Still, bringing in those two is dangerous," Caesar said.

"Dangerous, yes, but I doubt that they were willing volunteers, Caesar," Jonathan said. "Indeed, I recognise them. And frankly, so should you, Joseph."

"What?"

"Let's put it this way. You have a son, from an affair."

Joseph, after a moment, put his hands to his face in shock, and yelled, eyes wide, "OH MY GOD!"

"…He has a son? I mean, he has a child apart from little Jolyne?" Caesar asked. "Does Suzi know about this?"

"It was from before they met," Jonathan said. "It was back in 1975, during the Voldemort War. He'd just graduated from school, and she had just graduated from Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts? A witch, then?"

"Yes, a Muggleborn."

"…Lily," Joseph said quietly. "But…she died, didn't she?"

"No. But we'll get to that later. Along with the two unfortunates, we found her in a tank of liquid, on life-support. We've managed to transport it here, and we have specialists working on her. However…of greater concern are the two hybrids Dio created. Given that they were involuntary test subjects, I am reluctant to destroy them until I can be sure they will cause trouble. The few Pillar Men we have actually encountered are ruthless, true, but they were the followers of Kars, and Wamuu showed that they weren't wholly evil. And these two were human once."

"And one of them was my kid?" Joseph asked. He blinked. "Wait, if he is my kid with Lily, then that means…"

"Yes. He is Harry Potter, the older brother of the Boy Who Lived, Charles Potter. James Potter claimed that Harry was kidnapped by Death Eaters nine years ago. It seems that these Death Eaters sold Harry onto Dio."

Joseph scowled. "Not that Potter'd give a damn. Remember when we encountered him while trying to deal with that vampire? And that was before he stopped being an Auror and went into politics more."

"Your next line will be ' _he's as bad a Pureblood as Malfoy, even if he pretends to be Light_ '," Caesar said.

"He's as bad a Pureblood as…son of a bitch! Caesar, it's no fun if I'm not the one doing it!" Joseph snapped.

"Come on, you two," Jonathan said. "Let's get changed, and then see our new guests…"

* * *

Jotaro Kujo glared through the thick glass at the two sculptures in the chamber, bathed in UV light. It wasn't out of any real antipathy towards the statues themselves that he glared, rather, glaring was his default expression, a sullen scowl. Like many Joestar men, he was tall and burly. He was dressed in his favoured variant of his school uniform.

He had been dragged here to England by his mother, partly to see the relatives, and partly because apparently it was time for him to learn more about the family business, so to speak. Well, at least it wasn't mafia or yakuza.

"So, what the hell am I looking at?" he asked the older woman sitting nearby, his grandmother, Erina Joestar, née Pendleton.

"Mind your language, Jotaro," Erina chided. Jotaro had to admit, while the woman was very much an old-fashioned British woman, like something out of a Jane Austen novel or something, she nonetheless had a strong inner fire, even in her sixties. "Though to be honest, what you see is hellish, the result of hellish experimentation at the very least. Has your mother told you about Dio Brando?"

"Gramps told me, and so did Uncle Joseph," Jotaro said. "Son of a thief, got adopted by Gramps' father, tried to usurp Gramps in the will…turned himself into a vampire. Sounds like something out of a bad horror movie or some manga series."

Next to him, a girl of his age with beautiful but sharp features snorted, her dark hair having a blonde fringe at the front, and a pair of horns done up on her head. "Got that right. Dad also told me about these…Pillar Men, weren't they called?"

Erina nodded, and a blonde-haired man in his sixties walked over to the glass. The scar bisecting his handsome features was a relic of his days spent as a hoodlum. "Yeah," he said, his voice still having a Cockney accent to it. "The Pillar Men were offshoots of humanity, Jolyne, a bit like vampires in some ways. We think the original vampire myths, along with those of the wendigo and of the troll, come from them. They are ridiculously long-lived, capable of absorbing nutrients directly through their body and shaping their body to suit their needs. Their one main weakness was sunlight. It petrifies them. Hence the UV lamps. We managed to figure out the exact wavelength for keeping them dormant, as few people can learn to use the Ripple."

"But these two are not natural-born Pillar Men. They were created through the experiments of Dio Brando," Erina said.

Jotaro looked once more at the two sculptures. They depicted a young man and a young woman, about his and Jolyne's age, maybe a little older, both naked, curled up in the rock. Both had small horns, the young man having one on the left side of his forehead, while the young woman had two. "Are they friendly or not?"

"Hopefully, the first one," the older man said. "They've been identified as Harry Potter, and Nymphadora Tonks. They'd been kidnapped during an outing to Hogsmeade back in '85. Death Eaters were blamed."

"Those British wizard terrorists Mum told me about?" Jotaro snorted. "Didn't Voldemort kick the bucket in 1981, Speedwagon?"

"Allegedly, but remember, many of them escaped the clink by claiming to be under the Imperius, which is bollocks," Speedwagon said. "But, well, there are sheeple everywhere."

Both Jotaro and Jolyne snorted. "Got that right," Jolyne muttered.

Jotaro nodded. Of all his relatives, he got along best with Jolyne, who had the same fire and acerbic tongue that he did. They were cousins, but they might as well have been twin siblings. Or father and daughter…now that was a weird thought.

Then, his grandfather, Jonathan Joestar, along with his uncle Joseph and his godfather Caesar Zeppeli, walked into the observation room. "No change, yet?"

"Not a damned thing, Jonathan. It's a relief…but given who these two are…"

"Yes. We can bring the UV lamps down to a level where they are not petrified, only weakened?"

"I spoke to the technicians, and yes, it's possible. You want to make sure they're not gonna go all Darth Vader on us?"

Jonathan nodded. "Great minds think alike, Robert. These two, I believe, are innocents in Dio's scheme, unless he's managed to indoctrinate them."

"There weren't anything found in their heads from the scans we did, JoJo," Erina said, smiling at her husband. Jotaro thought it sickeningly sentimental, especially how his grandfather looked younger than his grandmother. "But…perhaps potions?"

"No residues of any potions were found. That we know of. Even in that state, we'd be able to detect something," Speedwagon said. "So…do we do it?"

"Dial it down," Jonathan said.

The intensity of the UV lamps was brought down. Then, cracks ran down the surface of the stone of the sculptures, before suddenly, and improbably, actual people seemed to come out of them. What had been stone had become flesh.

Both had athletic, muscled builds, not quite the towering pillars of muscle the Pillar Men had been (or that many Ripple users were, too, Jotaro reflected), but muscled all the same. The woman had pink hair that changed colours, while the man had shaggy dark hair and emerald eyes.

"… _What the hell happened?_ " the woman asked, before looking at the man. " _Oh, wotcher, Harry. Is it me, or are we in a different place?_ "

" _Well, we're in a different lab to Dio's_ ," the man said, before looking up. The observers weren't looking through a one-way mirror, so the man was looking at them.

Jotaro was a bastard, he knew that much. He was an infamous delinquent back home. He'd put more than a few people who pissed him off into the hospital (and some were still there). He'd put uppity teachers in their place, sometimes forcing them to resign. And at restaurants where the food wasn't up to snuff, he'd do a dine-and-dash. But he also liked to think that he knew evil when he saw it. And what he saw wasn't evil. Dark, yes, dangerous, yes, but evil? No, he was looking at a confused human being.

Jonathan cleared his throat, before saying, "Harry Potter? Nymphadora Tonks?"

" _Hey, don't call me Nymphadora!_ " snapped the woman angrily.

Jolyne chuckled. "I _like_ her."

"Sorry about your current accommodations. I'm hoping they will be purely temporary. I'm Jonathan Joestar. Welcome to the Speedwagon Foundation."

Harry and Tonks looked at each other, and then back at Jonathan. Wariness was in their gaze…but then again, so too was the faintest embers of an emotion they clearly hadn't felt for a long time. A seductive, deadly emotion…and yet one of the greatest.

Hope.

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Well. That just happened. So, Harry and Tonks have been turned into Pillar Men hybrids, and now they're in the custody of the Speedwagon Foundation.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	162. Warlock Chapter 1

**Well, I have to admit, I'm a little disappointed at the lack of reviews for my _JoJo's Bizarre Adventure_ story. I will continue working on it, and hopefully it may become a complete story, but I thought I'd get this one out of the way first. It's something I've also been meaning to do for a while. Namely, a crossover with _Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion_.  
**

 **There were a few ways I was going to do this, but the best story idea I had was, well, a post-Book 5 Harry taking yet another Veil-Assisted Transdimensional Pratfall into a crossover universe. Here, he ends up in Area 11/Japan, about a year before the events of _Code Geass_ take place, though the story starts at the beginning of _Code Geass_ , when Harry and Kallen are not only a couple, but Harry is a (mostly) trusted member of their resistance cell. While his mask and anonymity does seem to show him as another Zero, unlike Zero, who is a tactician and planner, Harry/Warlock is a spanner in the works. Lelouch and Harry will be sometimes on opposite sides, at least as far as how to achieve a goal is concerned rather than actual opposing sides. Oh, and Kallen and Ohgi (as well as Harry) will be aware of Lelouch's identity and powers from pretty much the beginning, so there'll be a different kind of friction involved. But overall, Lelouch may have less problems, at least on his side...**

 **Now, the current pairing for this story is Harry/Kallen, but I'm tempted to make it Harry/Kallen/CC (which means a Lelouch/Milly or Shirley pairing). What do you think? I mean, I was considering pairing an MOD Harry with CC (why the actual fuck is her name pronounced Cee-Two and not Cee-Cee?) for another story, but hey.**

* * *

 _ **WARLOCK**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **THE BEST LAID PLANS OF MICE AND MEN GANG AFT AGLEY…**

They called him the Warlock.

Some months prior, this mysterious masked figure appeared in Area Eleven, formerly Japan, and had coincided with the increased success of the most prominent resistance cell within Shinjuku. He resisted all attempts to capture him, using powers many would consider supernatural. And he was very much an embarrassment to the administration of Viceroy Prince Clovis la Britannia.

Most resistance or terrorist cells within Area Eleven, or indeed the countries conquered by the Britannian Empire (or any other superpower for that matter), tended to attack physically. Warlock, however, tended to attack more abstract things. Reputation. Dignity. Many of the so-called attacks by Warlock amounted to little more than embarrassing and humiliating pranks on a large scale.

Still, many analysts within Britannia who bothered to deem Warlock a threat believed that he would, eventually, escalate. It was only a matter of time before he became more than a headache…

* * *

The boy known as Warlock grimaced, clutching his head. Thanks to that damned crash, he had a pretty bad headache. He made his way through to the main cab of the truck, and looked at the others. Quickly, he pulled out his wand, and healed them, before he brought them out of consciousness. " _You two okay?_ " he asked, his voice distorted by a vocoder in the mask he was wearing, a simple crying theatrical mask, like something out of Greek theatre.

The red-haired teenaged girl, wearing a headband, nodded, rubbing her head. "Jiraiya?" she asked the man next to her(1).

"I'll live," he groaned. "You fine, Tsunade?"

"Yeah. We'd better get moving, though. We've probably drawn more attention with that crash," the girl said, before she looked up at Warlock. "You were going to tell us something before the crash. What is it?"

" _Good news and bad news, Tsunade. Good news is that's not poison gas in there, so we don't need to worry about dying if it gets punctured by a stray round. But I tried a few spells on a whim…and_ Homenum Revelio _brought up something. That's not a poison gas capsule…it's some sort of life-support unit and prison._ "

"…A human is in there?" the girl hissed as the man began to ready himself to start driving.

"Figures," the man said. "Even that bastard of an Emperor hasn't overtly disobeyed chemical weapons treaties. Human experimentation would be worse than poison gas production. If word gets out, Clovis would be disinherited at least."

" _I'll set up the broadcast when we get a moment so that we can show off whoever we fish out of there_ ," Warlock said. " _Assuming we can get out of here before the Britannians get off their arses. Anyway, why did we crash?_ "

"Some Britannian punks on a motorbike wouldn't get out of the way," the man said.

"I think I recognised them," the girl said. "One's Lelouch."

" _Did they see your face?_ " The girl shook her head. " _All right. Sensei had better start an evacuation of Shinjuku, just in case Clovis attempts a cover-up._ "

With that, Warlock left the cabin for the rear of the truck, only to hear someone calling out from the outside of the truck, asking if they were okay. Warlock cursed softly as the hatch on the roof opened, and someone fell into the truck in a gangly tangle of limbs as the truck started moving again. Instantly, Warlock was on him, grabbing him in a hold. Only to stop in surprise. _Of all the days to be a Good Samaritan, Lelouch vi Britannia_ , Warlock thought.

The boy he had borne to the floor of the truck was tall, rather slender, with handsome, even effeminate features framed by brown hair. His eyes were a deep violet, glaring at him angrily. No fear, oddly enough. He was like a Malfoy with less nastiness, more empathy, and actually capable of backing up his arrogance. "Warlock, I presume?" he asked.

" _Lelouch vi Britannia, I presume?_ " Warlock said, smirking at the fear that finally bloomed in his eyes. The teenaged exiled prince had changed his last name…to his mother's maiden name. If any real effort had been made to find him, well, while Lamperouge wasn't a wholly uncommon name in Britannian nobility, it was unusual enough for people to potentially put two and two together. He then used Incarcerous to wrap Lelouch in ropes, for now.

"What the hell?" Lelouch demanded, before Warlock took a strip of cloth and wrapped it around his eyes.

" _Quiet a moment. If you're lucky, you'll leave alive and intact_ ," Warlock said, kneeling next to the capsule, trying to find a means of opening it.

As the truck halted again, the girl came through, undoing the medical uniform she had been wearing. "I'm going out in the Glasgow, Warlock," she said quietly, before noticing their prisoner. "Who's this?"

" _Lelouch. Apparently he was trying to be a Good Samaritan. We'll hold onto him for now. Unless Clovis intends to wipe out the entire Shinjuku ghetto, he might make a good hostage._ " It would be as a bluff: Warlock agreed to work with this resistance cell specifically because they tried to avoid harming civilians. Warlock also made sure to whisper this, so that Lelouch wouldn't overhear. " _You okay, Tsunade?_ "

The girl nodded, before gently raising his mask, and kissing him. Warlock had to admit, she was beautiful when she wasn't pretending to be weak or lost in the depths of her fury. "Stay safe, okay?" she asked, as she replaced the mask.

" _You too. Don't fuck around. If one of Clovis' top pilots crash the party, like Gottwald or one of his Purist nutters, run._ "

She nodded, before she clambered into the back of the old Glasgow they had repaired and refurbished. Warlock had to admit, the concept of a Knightmare Frame, a sort of giant robotic walking battletank, was a cool one. Tsunade, aka Kallen Kozuki (well, Kallen Stadtfeld, but she preferred her Japanese surname), was their best pilot. Most of the cell he worked with could use a Knightmare Frame (hell, even he could if need be, despite having never heard of them back home), but Kallen was a prodigy. Smart, strong, and passionate…Warlock was glad to have her as his girlfriend.

After Kallen piloted the Glasgow from the truck, and Jiraiya, aka Nagata, began driving the truck away, Warlock returned to examining the capsule. "What are you going to do with that?" Lelouch demanded.

" _Expose your brother's crimes_ ," Warlock said simply. " _It's bad enough when we thought it was a chemical weapon. But this is a life-support capsule and a prison both, Lelouch. There's a person in there. I get the feeling your brother was up to human experimentation._ "

A sharp intake of breath, before Lelouch hissed, "Bastard."

"… _No love lost for your family then? I mean, I thought that was the case, but_ …"

Warlock felt that if Lelouch's eyes were uncovered, he would be meeting his gaze. "If you know who I am, then you know that I have little love for that incestuous mephitic mob I am forced by circumstance of birth to call kin. I only love three of my sisters, and none of my brothers."

Warlock was a little taken aback by the vehemence, but he smiled. " _Nunnally and Euphemia being the obvious ones, I am sure. Don't worry, your identities of you and your sister are only known to a few of us. We have a few idiots in our group who'd love nothing more than to try and do something like kidnap you and hold you to ransom. Ah, here we go._ "

The capsule suddenly opened, a brief hiss of air escaping, splitting open like a flower. Liquid flowed out, revealing the form of a young woman in restraints, part of it covering her mouth. Green hair flowed out, while golden eyes opened and peered at them, liquid evaporating off her lithe form. She looked to be anywhere from her late teens to her early twenties. She flopped out, and Warlock was on her in an instant, beginning to remove restraints. As her eyes fluttered closed once more, Warlock pointed his wand at her, and murmured, "Ennervate." Her eyes opened wide, and she coughed out some of the liquid. " _It's okay_ ," Warlock said gently. " _I can't say that you're safe…but you're away from Clovis._ "

She looked at him, and then at his wand. "…Curiouser," she commented, before she looked over at Lelouch. "And curiouser," she added. "Have I fallen in with someone with a bondage kink?"

Warlock stared at the woman incredulously. " _Says the woman in the straitjacket!_ " he retorted. " _What do I call you?_ "

"…CC," she said. "Spelled like 'cee-cee', pronounced 'cee-two'."

"… _Your parents must've hated you_ ," Warlock remarked. CC rolled her eyes.

Suddenly, there was the chatter of machine gun fire, and Warlock bore CC and Lelouch to the floor of the truck, just in case the bullets penetrated the sides of the truck. " _Do they know there's no poison gas?!_ " Warlock snapped.

"Unlikely," CC said. "Clovis, Bartley, and a few of his staff would be the only ones to know."

"Someone's being reckless, then," Lelouch remarked dryly.

The truck ground to a halt, and Warlock hurried over to the cab, to find Nagata there, grimacing from wounds from a machine gun. They were currently underground, in the basement of some building. " _Jiraiya!_ "

"Warlock…sorry. Someone in a Sutherland…they hit me," Nagata said, grunting in pain.

Warlock grimaced, even as he tried to stop the bleeding. The magic he used could only do so much. He could stabilise Nagata, but not heal him as well as he'd like, as he was a rank amateur when it came to healing spells. And he didn't dare use a Portkey, not after the incident with the stray cat when he was testing whether he could make a Portkey.

"…Leave me," Nagata said. "I'll be a decoy, take as many of those bastards with me when they come."

" _No, no, no, you're not making yourself a fucking martyr, Jiraiya. I may not have been able to save Naoto, but I can save you_ ," Warlock snapped. " _Or do you think Tsunade will want you to be a martyr?_ "

"I'm not well enough to move. I'd slow you down, and the only treatment these bastards'll give me is a bullet in the head," Nagata rasped. "…Did you manage to open the capsule?"

" _Yeah. Like I thought, there was someone inside, a woman. Calls herself CC._ " The side door of the truck was slid open, and Warlock cursed. He dashed through to find someone in military gear checking on Lelouch and CC. No sidearm. An Honorary Britannian?

"Lelouch?" the soldier asked, his head concealed by a helmet and gasmask. "What are you doing here?"

Lelouch blinked. "Suzaku? Behind you!"

Suzaku, whoever that was, whirled, but Warlock was faster, sending the soldier sprawling with a Stunner. It didn't knock him out thanks to the helmet, but Warlock was on him. " _Quisling…do yourself a favour and get the hell out of here. There's no poison gas, just a cover-up on human experimentation. Or else your friend would have been dead already. This woman was the only thing in the capsule._ "

"What?" Suzaku demanded, tearing off his helmet to reveal a handsome, brown-haired Japanese boy.

CC shot Warlock a flat look. "I am not a _thing_ , thank you."

Suddenly, lights snapped on, and Warlock dove for cover as a hail of gunfire spat at them. Suzaku yelled, "Hold your fire! There's Britannian civilians here!"

When the guns stopped firing, a voice barked out. "Name, rank and serial number, soldier!"

"Suzaku Kururugi, Private, HB2000/6/PR4, sir!" Suzaku yelled.

"Out of the truck, Private!"

Suzaku hopped out, and Warlock peeked out, removing Lelouch's ropes, just in case they needed to make a break for it. Lelouch seemed to understand the situation, as he made no move to attack them. Warlock heard the conversation, and grimaced. Suzaku was about to get murdered just for seeing too much, so as Suzaku refused to shoot Lelouch and the others, Warlock slid out of hiding and yelled, "EXPELLIARMUS!"

The gathered soldiers, members of Clovis' Royal Guard, went flying, as did their weapons. Suzaku stared in surprise, while Warlock yelled, " _RUN, NOW!_ " Honorary Britannian he may be, but Warlock wasn't going to let him be killed because he saw the wrong things.

Suzaku seemed torn, before he fled. Warlock then sent the most powerful Bombarda he could manage at the Royal Guard. Once more, they were flung into the air, but one of them, their leader, managed to dive away, picking up a gun, and shooting Warlock, sending him sprawling with a wound to the shoulder, his head slamming against the truck, stunning him. "The great and powerful Warlock…while killing you would be a pleasure, I think Clovis would want to talk to you…still, we can't leave any other witnesses."

He swung the pistol around to Lelouch, only for CC to scream, "He mustn't die!" The back of her head exploded in a gory spray as she took the shot meant for Lelouch.

"…Bastard," Lelouch hissed.

"It was dumb luck," the man sneered. "Sorry kid, but you're about to become a casualty of war. Tortured to death by the terrorists, along with the girl. We were ordered to bring her in alive, but, well, she wanted to be a hero, I guess. What do you think?"

Warlock, who was trying to shake away the fog in his skull, saw the impossible. He saw CC's corpse suddenly reach out and grab Lelouch's hand. After a moment, CC's hand dropped away, and Lelouch was glaring at the soldier. "Tell me then…how would a Britannian who despises his own country conduct himself?"

"You some sort of dissenter, brat?"

Warlock blinked, only to see that something had appeared in Lelouch's left eye, a bird-like symbol outlined in red energy. "Are you afraid to shoot? Or are you now realising that the only ones who should kill are those who are prepared to perish in their turn? I, Lelouch vi Britannia, **_ORDER YOU TO DIE!_** "

Warlock saw the man's eyes turn red briefly, and he maniacally laughed, "With pleasure, Your Highness!" he said, before pressing his gun to his head, and pulling the trigger, painting the nearby walls with his brains.

Warlock blinked, getting shakily to his feet, before he said, "… _Okay…what the fuck was that?_ " He used his magic to remove the bullet from the wound, and then heal it as best as he could. It'd probably scar, but it wasn't the first one he had.

Lelouch looked over to him, and frowned. "I could ask you the same thing, given those abilities you used. You seem to know me better than I would like most other people to know."

" _Trust me, I know what it's like to have expectations made of you, not to mention dead parents, Lelouch. To be taken away from everything you know. Besides…they call me Warlock. That should be pretty self-evident as to what my abilities are. They're magic._ " He waved his wand for emphasis.

"…You can't be serious."

" _No, that was my godfather._ " With that, Warlock felt some sadness come over him, reminded of the too-recent, too-painful past. "… _Anyway, we'd better get moving. It seems Clovis intends to do a cover-up. We need to stop him somehow._ "

Lelouch nodded. Warlock knelt down near CC's body, and frowned. Was it him, or was her bullet wound shrinking? It was.

The truck door opened, and Nagata slumped out, looking haggard, but alive. "I think you managed to do the trick, Warlock. What the hell did he do?"

" _Something. Jiraiya, we're taking the girl. She's healing from what should be a fatal wound. And we need to find a way to stop this mess._ "

Nagata nodded, before handing Warlock Kallen's discarded radio. "I'll set the truck to self-destruct. We'll rendezvous at the hideout. What about this guy?"

" _I'll think about how to deal with him._ " Warlock used a Levicorpus for CC. " _Let's go._ "

And with that, the group split, Nagata making his own way back, too injured to do more than to head back to base. Meanwhile, Warlock escorted Lelouch and the healing body of CC through the building, hearing the distant pops and crackles of gunfire.

Beneath Warlock's mask, Harry Potter snarled. Those bastards, so much like the Death Eaters, thinking themselves superior to anyone and everyone, those bastards attacking innocent civilians would pay…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, a post-Book 5 Harry's a key member (NOT the leader) of Ohgi's cell. And Kallen's his girlfriend. And it seems he already knows more about Lelouch than Lelouch would like. Oh dear.**

 **As stated above, Harry is NOT the leader of Ohgi's cell. He's more their trump card, the sort of person who does all the spectacular work. However, given his experiences before, he's made sure that the Ohgi cell actually have codenames. We'll get more into that later.**

 **1\. I used the names of Jiraiya and Tsunade not from** ** _Naruto_** **, as you might believe, but rather, from** ** _The Tale of Jiraiya the Gallant_** **, a Japanese folk tale.**


	163. Warlock Chapter 2

**Wow. I mean, I'm actually astonished at the reviews _Warlock_ has gotten so far, and I've got more momentum going for the story. With any luck, it might end up as a published story before long. It's worth pointing out that both Lelouch and Kallen will be a little OOC compared to canon. The latter is because Harry has been a calming influence on Kallen. She's still the fiery redhead, true, but she's also a more thoughtful person, more inclined to despise the nobility of Britannia rather than every Britannian.**

 **With Lelouch, it's more of his actions that will be different. Given that Warlock knows who he is, as well as Kallen, he's more open, albeit out of pragmatism than true honesty. He'll also be modelled slightly on the Lelouch from SeerKing's _Code Geass: The Prepared Rebellion_ (which I recommend, by the way).**

 **Also, I haven't heard much word about adding CC to the pairing. A few have commented, but not enough. Well?**

 **Given my recent obsession with _JoJo's Bizarre Adventure_ , it's little wonder that the mock-opening I describe at the end of this chapter is based on one of the openings for that series (because I think the opening of _Code Geass_ , at least the first one, is a bit too generic anime for my liking). Namely, the third opening, _Stand Proud_. I used the version translated by Triv and sung by Mark de Groot here, partly because the lyrics translation fitted better:**

 **watch?v=hXRDpfP9r20**

 **That being said, I prefer Jonathan Young's version, and if you want to see it married with the actual opening titles (which is ridiculously awesome), here it is...**

 **watch?v=uOGDq86i8tY**

* * *

 _ **WARLOCK**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **REVELATIONS**

A few minutes later, as they made their way through a veritable warren of abandoned buildings, Harry heard the voice of CC remark, "Hmm, a novel way to travel, being levitated. I can walk now, so you can let me down."

Harry did so, and the beautiful green-haired woman got to her feet. Lelouch glanced at her. "So, you didn't die."

"And you can state the obvious," CC snarked. "How do you like my gift?"

" _Gift?_ " Harry asked.

"The power of Geass," CC said.

" _That mind-control thing he did?_ " Harry asked. " _Like the Imperius?_ "

"...Yes. I found it useful," Lelouch said. "Thank you, CC. We'll talk about this later. First, we need to get out of here."

" _Easier said than done_ ," Harry said. " _Hear that gunfire? Clovis has ordered an outright massacre, no doubt. I'm hoping that our group has managed to evacuate the civilians to hiding places, but even so, there's only so much we can do. And only one of us would find bullet wounds a mere annoyance._ "

* * *

They made their way into a warehouse, and just as Harry was helping CC get some supplies out from underneath some rubble, a Sutherland burst through. Thankfully, the pilot could only see Lelouch, and demanded answers. Lelouch seemed to try and use his Geass, only for it to fail, so he spoke a lie, claiming to be someone called Alan Spacer.

Harry recognised the woman who emerged from the Sutherland, given her presence alongside Gottwald during his public appearances. The dark-skinned woman with blue hair and an athletic frame was Viletta Nu, Gottwald's second in command. And once she was close enough, Lelouch brought her under control.

" _Why didn't you tell him that it was based on eye contact?_ " Harry hissed at CC as Lelouch interrogated Viletta.

"I'm still half-drugged from the capsule," she retorted quietly. "And I've had a bullet go through my head. Forgive me if I don't give the boy a book titled _Geass for Dummies_."

As the pair of them emerged, Lelouch said, "Warlock, if you want to ask her anything, go ahead. I've ordered her to answer any questions you might ask. I only ask that you keep her alive. I've decided to make her my mole within the Purists. And given that I need eye contact for the Geass to work, I can't exactly force you to comply. Once you're done with your questions, say to her, ' _Lamperouge Flash(_ _1)_ '. You'll have ten minutes to leave before she reverts to normal after that. I'm going to help your comrades."

" _Then I'll make my own way back. Unless you happen to come across a whole train of Sutherlands or something._ "

Lelouch flashed Harry a knowing smirk, before looking at CC. "Care to join me? It'll be a little cramped, but…"

"Yes, I do believe I will take this gentleman's offer of a ride," CC said, before looking at Harry. "Thank you for helping me."

As the pair of them got into the Sutherland and left, Harry looked at Viletta. " _Did you know that Clovis was engaged in human experimentation on that woman?_ "

"No."

" _And if you had known, what would you have done?_ "

"Reported it to Margrave Gottwald," she responded automatically in a flat tone. It reminded Harry of the time when Barty Crouch Junior was questioned under the influence of Veritaserum.

After a moment, he said, " _Why is Gottwald so xenophobic?_ "

"He believed the Elevens killed the children of Marianne vi Britannia. He feels their demise deeply as another failure, after his failure to protect Marianne."

" _And if he found out they were alive?_ "

"He would immediately be loyal to them."

" _And you?_ "

"Where he goes, I go. I joined the Purist Faction out of loyalty to him."

Hmm, useful information. Could Gottwald be an ally? The key thing was Lelouch. And as tempted as Harry was to kill this woman for her own xenophobia, Lelouch had said he had turned her into a mole. So he decided to just content himself with hitting her with a spell that turned her into a clown, before saying, " _Lamperouge Flash._ "

* * *

As he fled through the Shinjuku Ghetto, attacking Britannian soldiers whenever he could do so, Harry realised that he couldn't find Kallen's radio. He still had his own, so he dialled it to the frequency of Kallen's Glasgow, and said, " _Tsunade, are you there?_ "

" _A little busy right now, Warlock!_ " Kallen said. " _Gottwald's not letting up, and my Glasgow is now missing an arm!_ "

" _Right, well, there's some good news. Our stowaways have decided to help out. He's in one of the Purists' Sutherlands._ "

" _Indeed I am_ ," Lelouch's voice, albeit distorted by a vocoder of his own, sounded. " _Tsunade, use the train tracks to get to the West Entrance! If you want to win against them, go there! Warlock, what's your status?_ "

" _On foot. Avoiding any Knightmare Frames, but dealing with any goons trying to kill civilians._ "

" _Right, keep doing that._ "

After a moment, Harry realised he wasn't far away, and watched as Kallen leaped up onto some tracks, pursued by Gottwald, who roared over his external speakers that she couldn't escape. However, he got intercepted by a train, and the Knightmare Frames pursuing Kallen were shot down by the mostly-concealed Sutherland that had to be Lelouch's, though Kallen landed the final blow on Gottwald's, forcing the Purist to eject.

Harry'd done his best to help the evacuation and thin out the attacking Britannian infantry, so he decided to head on up there. He was able to Apparate within a line of sight, so he appeared with a loud crack right near Kallen's Glasgow, with Ohgi and the others running up nearby. " _How's the evacuation?_ " he asked.

Ohgi nodded. "We managed to get it done, as best as we could. But the soldiers, they killed the stragglers. What was with the radio message earlier, telling us to come here?"

" _We got help from someone_ ," Harry said, deciding to fudge it. " _We'll talk later, Sensei. We can trust him…for now. I know who he is_."

"Then tell us, dammit!" snapped Tamaki, he of the short temper and tiny mind.

" _Shut up, Baka_ ," Kallen and Harry chorused.

Lelouch contacted them again, talking to Ohgi and asking what he intended with the capsule, before agreeing to help them. And to Harry's astonishment, there were twenty Sutherlands. Looks like Lelouch did manage to find a train of Sutherlands. Harry began casting Repair Charms on Kallen's Glasgow. He couldn't do much about her missing arm, but a few other things could be repaired.

" _By the way, Mysterious Voice, what do we call you?_ " Harry asked.

" _For now…call me K-1. At least you have the sense to use codenames over an open line. I'd like listings of everyone's codenames, except for Warlock, Tsunade, and Sensei, I've already got those. Oh, and Baka._ "

 _K-1? Isn't that the notation for the King's starting position in chess? The ego on this guy,_ Harry thought, thinking back to Ron, and regretting it almost immediately. Still, after finishing up with Kallen, he got into his own Sutherland, removing the mask for now, but keeping the vocoder. " _K-1, I'm nowhere near as good as Tsunade using a Knightmare Frame. When I do, my specialty is sniping, not close combat._ "

" _Understood, Warlock. The Identification: Friend or Foe units on those should be disabled, and I can send you a feed of those from the Britannian forces. I need you all to follow my instructions to the letter_ …"

* * *

The battle was ridiculously easy, though Harry suspected it was because Clovis was a shitty commander in battle, whereas Lelouch…well, Harry and Kallen went to the Ashford Academy, and Harry, though information gathering, knew Lelouch was a chess player better than Ron. Indeed, he often played games for money, fleecing nobles who underestimated the slender teenager. This sense of tactics was obviously brought over into real life, given the results he was getting.

Harry, for the most part, enjoyed sniping some of the Knightmare Frames from afar. And soon, they had dealt with almost all of the Knightmares. However, he noticed something in the distance. " _K-1, I see what appears to be a Knightmare trailer in the distance. Patching in a feed._ "

After a moment, Lelouch said, " _Hmm…looks like it's associated with the Earl of Pudding._ "

" _Who?_ " Tamaki demanded.

" _Lloyd Asplund_ ," Lelouch explained. " _The rather eccentric head of Camelot. They do weapons R &D. Which means that trailer may have an experimental next-gen Knightmare Frame. Stay alert._"

The Knightmare that emerged was ridiculously fast, agile, gleaming white, and armed to the teeth. Harry watched as it tore a few of their Sutherlands apart, and when he fired, it was blocked by a shield. " _Shit_ ," he muttered. " _K-1, I'm not sure what the hell we can do to this thing. The pilot is good, and this thing is armed to the bloody teeth._ "

" _Understood, Warlock. If you can slow it down, do so._ "

" _Easy for you to say_ ," Harry muttered. The Knightmare had turned to attack Kallen, and Harry aimed for one of the leg joints and fired. This time, it managed to damage the leg. Instantly, the Knightmare fired one of its Slash Harken harpoon/grappling hooks at Harry's Knightmare, and while he evaded in time, his rifle wasn't so lucky. As the new Knightmare grappled up using another, Harry made his way away, pulling out a Chaos Grenade. " _Everyone near me, get the hell away! I'm leaving this wanker a Chaos Grenade as a gift._ "

He primed it and leapt off the edge of the building. Blasts of high velocity shrapnel spat out. " _K-1, anyone looking on, did I get the bastard?_ " Harry demanded as he used the Slash Harkens to descend safely.

" _You managed to get him, Warlock, but he used his shields to absorb most of the damage_ ," Lelouch replied. " _Warlock, Tsunade, please act as decoys. I'm going to put an end to this. You know how, Warlock._ "

 _The Geass?_ Harry thought. But as a nearby building crumbled, a woman and a baby began plummeting to their doom. And Harry, cursing what Hermione called his 'saving people thing', ran to catch them, even as the new Knightmare dropped down.

He managed to catch the mother and child, adjusting the hands in just the right way to minimise injury, but cursed as the Knightmare landed in front of him. Whoever the Britannian was had him vulnerable, and they wouldn't give a crap about a Japanese mother and child dying.

Except, they were hesitating. Eventually, they turned on their external speakers, and said, " _I won't fight you while you're holding them. Put them down now._ "

Harry blinked. Wasn't that voice Suzaku's? For a moment, he debated whether to use them as meatshields, but while Harry was a harder person than he was before, he wouldn't stoop that far. Unless it was a bluff.

He gently lowered his hand, and the woman scurried to safety with her burden. " _Private Kururugi…so you made it to safety_ ," Harry said through the external speakers. " _Now I'm beginning to wonder whether saving your arse from those bastards trying to kill you was a good idea. Gratitude has a rather short half-life, doesn't it?_ "

" _You're doing things wrong! Violence only begets violence! Why can't you accept that?_ "

"… _Well, let's just say that I've a major allergy to elitist arseholes. And if you seriously think that people should bend over and lube up just because some old bastard with a shitty attitude, a shitty beard, and a shitty wig, claims survival of the fittest is paramount…_ _ **think again**_ _._ "

Suzaku seemed to have had enough, as he fired a couple of Slash Harkens at Harry. But Harry had a plan. A stupid, reckless plan, but a plan all the same. As the cockpit of his Sutherland ejected, he Apparated across to the Knightmare Suzaku was piloting, ending up perched just behind the mecha's head. " _Surprise, bitch!_ " he yelled. "ALOHAMORA!"

Now, he had no idea whether this'd work, but to his amazement, the cockpit disengaged and opened up, revealing a very surprised Suzaku. Harry promptly Stunned him, using Levicorpus to send him down to the ground, safely. For now. He crawled into the cockpit, and looked around. He'd have no hope of piloting this, but he reckoned denying the enemy one of its weapons would be a good consolation prize. "BOMBARDA MAXIMA!"

He Apparated to the ground just in time as the cockpit erupted in flames. Rubble came crashing down, separating him from Suzaku. Harry wasn't sure whether he was going to kill the idiot. He was a threat, true…but Harry saw a little of himself in the Japanese boy. Before idealism was killed by his fifth year at Hogwarts. Before the Department of Mysteries, Sirius hit by a curse, Harry intercepting him, only to be knocked through the Veil…only to end up in Japan in a parallel world.

Clicking his tongue irritably, Harry went to go look for Kallen and the others. He was about to deal with some soldiers who were searching the area when he heard Clovis' voice announce a ceasefire. A grim grin touched his lips behind the mask. It seemed that Lelouch had struck…

* * *

In the hideout later, as Tamaki was being chewed out by Ohgi (it was Tamaki's mistakes that caused the Britannians to be alerted sooner), Harry, who had taken off his mask, was talking to Kallen in the corner, having erected a Privacy Charm. Nagata, thankfully, had managed to make it back to base, and was currently being tended to. "So K-1 was Lelouch?" Kallen asked.

"Yeah. I'm guessing his exile's made him bitter towards his former countrymen," Harry said, running a hand through his tangled black hair. He looked at Kallen. "Are you all right?"

"Just a few bruises," the redhead said, smiling. The fiery girl had taken some time to warm up to Harry completely, but they were now inseparable. "What about you, Harry? What was that reckless crap about taking on that Knightmare outside of one?"

"I took a risk. If it didn't work, I would have gotten the hell out of there," Harry said. "Anyway, I've managed to give the Earl of Pudding a blow to his ego, and he won't like that…"

* * *

"NOOOOOO!" Lloyd Asplund wailed, cradling debris from the Lancelot as if it was his dead child. Which it was, in a perverse way.

"…Is he going to be okay?" a rather battered Suzaku asked.

Cecile Croomy, Asplund's beleaguered assistant, sighed. "Define 'okay'," she said. "It gets pretty loose around him."

"DO NOT WANT!"

* * *

"Even so, I don't want you risking your life like that, Harry," Kallen said.

"Hey, you were the one fighting off Jeremiah fucking Gottwald," Harry retorted. "I should be saying that to you, though Lelouch's little bit of intelligence gathering helped. Still…that ability he used…the one CC called Geass…we've got to be careful, especially if he helps us in future. We tell Ohgi, and make sure Nagata's quiet about it. I think we should head back to Ashford Academy soon."

"Ugh, I hate that place. Most of the Britannians there are idiots. Even that genius girl, Nina or whatever it was? She's ridiculously scared towards Japanese. I dunno why you spend so much time trying to befriend her," Kallen said.

"Hey, she saw her family murdered by a Japanese mob during the invasion. Not to mention what happened when she wandered into the ghetto by accident. She's afraid of Japanese, she hasn't got the whole superiority complex thing most of those idiots have. And I've managed to get her to engage in intellectual debate about the issue. Hopefully, she'll just be cautious than a nervous wreck. Anyway, if she's anything like her namesake back home…" Harry's face fell at the reminder. Home. A whole universe away. And his friends, if they were still alive, separated by the walls of time and space.

Kallen gently put an arm around his shoulder, knowing what he was thinking about. It took her some time to believe that he was from another world. "We'll find a way back," she said quietly. "I want to see a world where Japan is free, and Britannia doesn't exist."

Harry scoffed morosely. "I want to show you that world…but I can't. So…I do what I can here."

The two sat together like that, for some time. The wizard, and the freedom fighter. Fighting against a monolithic empire. An impossible, quixotic task. But then again, Harry had first done the impossible when he was still in nappies. What else was new?

* * *

 **OPENING**

 **SONG:** ** _Stand Proud_** **by Jin Hashimoto, Takatuku Wakabayashi and ZENTA, English lyrics by Triv, sung by Mark de Groot (opening to** ** _JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Stardust Crusaders_** **)**

 _As the opening chords begin, we see Lelouch holding a mask as Zero posing, before Kallen and CC, back to back, appear on the next set of notes, before we see Harry as Warlock (sans mask) from the back, before he turns and points his wand at the camera, before the camera zooms in on his eye, a Geass symbol briefly appearing before the caption_ _ **WARLOCK**_ _appears over the Geass vortex_.

As all these memories fade to stardust,

Let's brave the world just like the men we are,

We'll make it far!

 _We see ghostly, smoky images of the lives of Harry, Kallen, Lelouch and CC in what could be clouds or plumes of scintillating dust we move through. We see, at least briefly, Harry falling through the Veil, Marianne and Nunnally being shot, Kallen's mother on Refrain, CC burning at the stake, and so on. We then see the Black Knights standing on a Knightmare Frame, zooming in on Harry and Lelouch dressed as Warlock and Zero, flanked by CC and Kallen, with Harry and Lelouch flinging out their cloaks, briefly obscuring the screen_.

Can't let the hands of time enslave us,

'Cause you know that's not the way we wanna go.

 _We see brief flashes of Lelouch's declaration to Suzaku when they were younger, before they fade to show Suzaku alongside Euphemia and Cornelia, along with Gottwald and Viletta, standing in front of the Lancelot_.

Caught up in a bind, fingers tied,

But I'm gonna prove that we've won,

'Cause we're made of platinum!

 _We see Nunnally confined to her wheelchair, Lelouch and Sayoko doting on her, then Hermione, Dumbledore, Remus, Sirius and the Weasleys walking through the streets of the settlement. Then, the JLF and Tohdoh in one of their debates. We then see Harry, Lelouch, CC and Kallen, in Black Knight gear, sans masks, looking ready to fight. We then zoom in on Lelouch's eye, with the Geass appearing_.

Take a stand! Take a stand! Take a stand!

And you'll turn it around!

Understand! Understand! Understand!

That they'll burn to the ground!

 _We see, in an abstract landscape, Kallen using her Guren Knightmare to fight against the Lancelot. Harry, in Warlock gear, is teleporting around Cornelia trying to attack him in single combat. We then see Lelouch, his hand outstretched, his Zero mask sliding open to show the Geass symbol in his eye. We zoom in, and see three brief flashes of Charles and VV, Schneizel, and then Voldemort_.

Break it down! Break it down! Break it down!

And don't give me a frown!

Be a star, and try to stand proud!

 _We move down the pillar into the Sword of Akasha, showing Harry, Suzaku, Lelouch, Kallen, CC, Euphemia, Cornelia, Hermione and others in the structure proper, surrounded on all sides by enemies, the Jupiter-like form of C's World hanging in the sky, symbolically defending C's World from Ragnarok. We then cut to Harry, Lelouch, Kallen and CC standing back to back, looking determined, as Voldemort and the Death Eaters come for them, zooming out once more_ …

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, we've had a similar but not quite the same battle in Shinjuku. Harry's been rather reckless.**

 **1\. This code word to deactivate Viletta in 'mole mode' comes from SeerKing's** ** _Code Geass: The Prepared Rebellion_** **, which I highly recommend.**


	164. Ubi Amor, Ibi Dolor Prologue

**This is probably a huge example of me getting ahead of myself. But, well, fools rush in where angels fear to tread and all that crap. This is a venture into an anime franchise that I probably wouldn't have ventured into that much, if it weren't for fanfiction.**

 **Namely, _Berserk_.**

 **While I did have some minor interest in that series, you have someone else to thank (or blame, depending on your POV) for getting me to dip my toe, ever so tentatively, into this rather gruesome dark fantasy franchise. This is deathbearABC123, whose _Berserk_ crossover _Harry Potter and the Berserker_ inspired this. It's a very well-written fanfic with an anime series with not that many crossovers going for it. It also needs a lot more love, so, here I am, plugging it. Here's the URL:**

 **s/12559843/1/Harry-Potter-and-the-Berserker**

 **Anyway, I eventually decided that I wanted to post a challenge, and I recently started correspondence with deathbearABC123. As it turned out, two of my three challenge ideas were actually ideas they had been considering for what became _Harry Potter and the Berserker_ , before deciding on the final storyline. With their permission given, I posted the three challenge ideas all together as 'A Mage in Midland'. And because this particular plot bunny wouldn't leave me alone, I decided to write and post a prologue (or an epilogue, really) of a story I will eventually try to write in some form or another. It is called _Ubi Amor, Ibi Dolor_ , or 'with love comes pain'.**

 **It is, bluntly, a Harry/Casca story that, in some regards, will be similar to _Harry Potter and the Berserker_ , if only because it involves Harry being with the Band of the Hawk. But this is a post-Hogwarts Harry, weighed down by his experiences and losses. I am also merging this story, based on the 'Casca's Soulmate' part of the challenge, with my 'Misery Loves Company' challenge, thus giving Casca a soul bond with Harry...which will be of use during the Eclipse.**

 **While this story is set during the Golden Age, we will be seeing Harry and Casca's life post-Eclipse as they try to deal with what happened, as well as living with Flora and Schierke. Thanks to deathbearABC123's story, Schierke has already become my favourite character in _Berserk_ , and the thought of Harry and Casca being parental figures to Schierke is such an adorable image. As for Casca's state of mind...well, she's still sane, relatively speaking. But she has been damaged by what happened to her, and while she's not as monomaniacal as Guts, she's skating close to the edge.**

 **That being said, this story won't be continued for a while, at least not until I can get a hold of _Berserk_. So, watch this space.**

 **Once more, I have to give my utmost thanks to deathbearABC123 for giving permission to post those challenges in the first place. Look up their story, give it more love. It deserves some, despite the dark story.**

* * *

 _ **UBI AMOR, IBI DOLOR**_

 **PROLOGUE:**

 **THE END IS THE BEGINNING IS THE END**

The house had the sense of age about it, everything wood and rustic…but it also had a sense of, well, home to it, a welcoming nature to it, despite the accoutrements of magic around it. Emerald eyes flashing behind glasses and darker eyes, both ringed by hollow sockets, took in the sights. "Beats a gingerbread house," the owner of the emerald eyes, a young man with a messy thatch of black hair, remarked.

The dark-skinned woman he was with snorted. Her hair was cut boyishly short, but there was no mistaking her gender. Still, despite being about the young man's age, her face seemed even more haggard, almost aged beyond its years. "If they really wanted us dead, they would have let that golem pulp us."

"Come on," the short figure they were following said, a little peevishly. She had short green hair, and seemed dressed in traditional witches' gear, complete with pointed hat. The effect made her seem endearing rather than sinister, though her attitude was far more serious than any girl her age had a right to be.

"We've been travelling quite a while," the young man said. "We need to rest. Especially as during the night…well, it's hard for either of us to sleep. So excuse us if we're a bit slow."

The green-haired girl turned and shot him a look, before continuing on, muttering under her breath to a small, glowing figure with wings. They were finally brought to one room in particular, where an elderly woman was working at a spinning wheel. The woman had been a great beauty once, and even now, her features were gentle and maternal, not to mention serene.

The young man stood up a little straighter. Eventually, he said, a little lamely, "Hi. My friend and I were in the area, and we wondered if you wanted to discuss religion."

The girl looked irritated, but the older woman smiled a little. "If that truly were the case, the golems would have shown you the door. One of the advantages of having a secluded home such as this is that proselytisers are hard-pressed to find it."

"Okay, you got me there. I'm Harry."

"And I am Casca," the dark-skinned woman said.

The elderly woman nodded. "A pleasure to meet you both. I am Flora, the Mistress of the Spirit Tree, and this is my apprentice, Schierke, as well as her friend, Ivalera the Elf. I have awaited your arrival for some time. A wizard from another realm…and a woman branded by evil. You have gone through much to come here."

"…You know about the brand?" Casca asked, her hand unconsciously reaching up to her chest, her breath becoming a little quicker until Harry's hand gently clasped over her other hand. She very nearly jerked her hand away out of reflex, but stilled.

Flora nodded. "You need not fear the advent of evil near this place. It is protected, even from those drawn to people branded with the mark of sacrifice."

Harry sighed quietly in relief. "…Thank Merlin. I was worried we'd have to defend you from those things that come after us, but…wait, you know I come from another world?"

"If I didn't before, I do now. After all, Merlin is a name I have not heard of for some time," Flora said. "In any case, a mutual acquaintance told me of your coming."

Harry and Casca shot each other looks, before the former said, "Are we talking someone who loves giving ominous and enigmatic utterances, and looks like he needs a heavy dairy diet to, you know, keep his bones healthy?"

Once more, Flora smiled. "I believe we are. But it is getting late. Perhaps we should discuss what path you have travelled down, and why it has brought you here, tomorrow…"

* * *

Schierke had objected somewhat to their presence, but Flora had overridden the objections of her apprentice and Ivalera, albeit gently. Schierke had escorted them to a bedroom reluctantly, making it clear that, to her, they were here on sufferance. Harry had an urge to prank her, but it was the first time in some time that he and Casca had a proper bedroom. True, wizarding tents were handy, but there was only so much they could do against the malicious entities drawn by the brand on her.

He also knew he'd have to ask Flora and Schierke if they had any ingredients for potions, particularly Dreamless Sleep. Casca needed that on a regular basis, ever since that day when everything turned upside down. When they were betrayed by the man they had tried to rescue, a hollow shell that made a deal to become a demon.

The day of the Eclipse.

Harry and Casca slept in separate beds when they had beds at all these days. While she didn't experience all of what happened to her during the Eclipse, what she had seen up to the point when Griffith, or rather, Femto, began his vile work on her was enough to give her nightmares. The woman who had endured the horrors visited upon her home village, and who had witnessed all manner of acts of brutality and violence in war, had seen the stuff of nightmares…no, things that surpassed nightmares. A hellish landscape of faces. Demonic Apostles gathering. The Godhand, a quartet of grotesque demons who, on that day, became a quintet. The massacre of her friends and comrades.

Harry selfishly felt glad he didn't have to witness that at all, that, in the rush to retrieve Griffith, he had been ordered by Casca to look after the princess who'd helped them retrieve Griffith. But most of him felt guilty, because he couldn't save his comrades…though perhaps he may have suffered the same fate as most of them. After all, of the members of the Band of the Hawk, only four were still alive…five if you counted the demon Griffith had become. Rickert and Harry had the debatably good fortune to be out of the hell the Eclipse brought down upon the world. Guts and Casca survived…but not untouched.

Casca was branded with a mark that basically acted as a dinner gong to evil spirits, and subsequently raped by the demonic reincarnation of the man she once idolised. But she retained her sanity, or most of it anyway. She could have retreated inwards, but instead, she retreated away, through the bond she shared with Harry's soul.

Guts now lacked an eye and an arm, and like Casca, had been branded. What was more, Griffith's betrayal had wounded his very soul. As indeed it had done with all of them.

Harry and Casca had parted ways with Guts, on differing missions. Guts had set his mind on slaughtering as many of the demonic Apostles as he could, intending to slaughter his way to Griffith. Harry and Casca, meanwhile, were searching for their own answers, trying to find some way to, if not heal the brands, then mitigate their effects, as well as research their enemy.

It was a journey that led them here, to the domicile of a witch of some renown in the area. A long and dangerous one, punctuated by demons and spirits dogging their step.

One thing that hurt them both was the loss of intimacy. Since Casca being made into Femto's plaything during the Eclipse, she understandably became more skittish towards personal contact. The pair of them used to sleep together, both literally, as well as the more carnal sense of the term. But now, it was hard for Casca to allow Harry to be close. More than once, she had lashed out in a blind panic while asleep. Even in her waking hours, she recoiled a little from his touch, not because merely of the touch, but because of the intimacy. But…she still felt comforted by his presence all the same, knowing that, despite what was done to her, he would never abandon her…

* * *

They rose early, thankfully untroubled by nightmares for once, and they went outside. It had become a ritual for them, especially for Casca. She practised with her sword, her dark eyes focused on some imaginary foe, presumably Griffith. Harry, meanwhile, used his staff, a staff that had a retractable spear blade in it.

As they continued, they knew they were being watched. Harry finished his own practise, before turning to find Schierke and Ivalera peering at them. "Don't sneak up on people wielding weapons," he said, retracting the spear blade. "Even if they're just practising."

"You're a wizard…and yet you're fighting like that?" Schierke asked, curious and yet sceptical.

"I tried to avoid the attention of the Holy See and those idiot Spanish Inquisition wannabes," Harry said. "I used magic only when I was sure I could get away with it…or if we needed it. So, I had to train in a hurry. Even then, the Band of the Hawk gained a reputation for witchcraft, especially Griffith. I think he enjoyed messing with the minds of those idiots. Then again, I think he enjoyed messing with a lot of people's minds. I think I know why I like Guts better."

Casca snorted as she swung her sword. "Because you both enjoyed being reckless, anti-authoritarian and lacked subtlety?"

"Amongst other things. Anyway, you're one to talk about recklessness. Or did that battle with Adon slip your mind? I ask you, going off to battle in your condition…you're a badass fighter, Cas, you didn't need to prove it. Not to Griffith, not to Guts, and certainly not to me."

"Well, we don't trust you!" Ivalera snapped, the Elf (well, pixie in Harry's mind) crossing her arms.

"Probably wise," Casca said bitterly. "Most of the people who trusted us died. And the person we trusted the most sold us out for _power_." With a sudden scream of anger, Casca slammed her sword into a nearby tree.

"Cas…you'll ruin your sword," Harry said gently. "Besides, what did that poor tree ever do to you?"

Her anger subsiding for now, Casca shook her head, a faint smirk touching her lips, albeit a tired and hollow one. "Sorry, it looked too much like Adon for my liking."

"Huh." Harry looked over at the tree, his hands on his hips, and scrutinised it, before saying, "Nah. This tree's much better looking, even before Guts and I rearranged his face."

Casca snorted, actually laughing. Like her smirk, it was tired and hollow, but it still felt more genuine. "You're right." She turned to Schierke, walking over to the small girl as Harry discreetly cast a spell at the tree to heal it, and kneeling down in front of her. "How long have you been living here, Schierke?"

"…As long as I can remember," the witch girl admitted reluctantly.

"Then you probably don't know what the world is like out there, save through books. I hope you keep your innocence longer than I did." A bittersweet smile touched the dark-skinned woman's lips. "If you are lucky, you don't have to experience war or demons in any way, save for in what books you have here. I envy that, actually." And with that, she went back inside.

As Harry approached, Schierke said, quietly, "What have you two been going through?"

"I'd say Hell…but really, only Cas can say that she's actually been through it," the emerald-eyed wizard said. "But we've both been through a lot. Now, once I've made some breakfast, I'll need to ask your teacher a few questions…"

* * *

Flora nodded as she finished examining the brand on Casca's breast. "Yes, I can seal it away. So too can Schierke," the elderly witch said. "However, the seal is temporary, if only because the ink would eventually wash away. If you wish, I could teach you how to draw the seal yourself, Harry. It's rather intricate, but given your own magic…"

"I'm grateful, Lady Flora," Harry said.

"Just Flora will do," the elderly witch said, as Casca shifted her tunic back into place. "Still, I'm sure you have many questions."

"Many, many questions," Casca said. "But…the two most important ones are…what is a Behelit, and what are the Godhand?"

"Yes, very important questions they are indeed," Flora said. "A Behelit…consider it a key, a dark fetish used to summon greater powers. Namely, the Godhand. They are known to us who research matters of magic and other planes. Once human, but they sacrificed to make themselves something both more than human, and yet less. They are the agents of a power greater than themselves. Most Behelits allow the user to become an Apostle…but one type of Behelit allows the user to become one of the Godhand themselves."

"The Crimson Behelit," Harry murmured. "No wonder Zodd was so surprised…no wonder he was laughing his horned head off. Prophecy my arse, he knew that someone given that ugly, tacky piece of crap would end up summoning them sooner or later."

"I believe you speak of the infamous Nosferatu Zodd," Flora said. "And I noticed you had issues with prophecies. You had one hanging over your head too, didn't you?"

"…Another life, another time, another world," Harry said bitterly. "We came here for a few reasons. The first is to give us time to recover, maybe find a way of removing the brand, but…can it be removed?" Flora shook her head. "Figures. The second was to learn ways of getting stronger. I'd like to think of myself as a strong mage, but against Apostles, I struggle. And it's inevitable that we'll fight them again. Therefore, I wished to learn from someone of some renown, and I heard of you once in passing. And it's not just magic, but any lore about Apostles and the Godhand. Anything that might tell of any weaknesses. Lady Flora, I know you already have a student, but I ask you, please teach me as well."

"And why do you desire to better your skills?"

"…Revenge for one thing, I can't deny that. But to protect others is another. An old friend of mine used to say I have a saving people thing." He looked at Casca. "Cas can look after herself most of the time, but nobody can do that by themselves all the time. And there are plenty of people out there who need help. I thought I was doing that with the Band of the Hawk. Now I'm not so sure. A lot of what we did has probably been undone because Griffith…never mind."

He didn't want to start that argument up again, the one where Casca blamed Guts defeating Griffith as the catalyst for Griffith sleeping with Princess Charlotte, and the mess that caused. Casca did eventually get over that, but Harry got the feeling it was still a sore point for her. And as much as Harry got along with Guts, the brutish warrior's defeat of Griffith did cause, inadvertently, the problems that followed.

Guts' problem was that he was, to some degree, intensely self-centred. Of course, so too was Griffith, as they had learned, long before the Eclipse, but Guts made no attempt to pretty up his nature. He'd gladly help out an ally, but he paid little heed to the consequences of his actions. He was a blunt instrument. Not that he was stupid, but he was reckless and impulsive to a degree even Harry flinched at.

Still, he had come back to help them at their request when they had been hunted by the King's forces. And without Guts, Casca would never have been able to escape the hellish realm they had been trapped in…well, Guts and the Skull Knight.

"I don't know whether it is of any help, but I can teach you, or at least your apprentice, the magic that comes from my world," Harry added. "If there's anything I can do that she cannot, then I will gladly teach her. It may not be equivalent exchange, but…"

"What can you possibly teach me?" Schierke asked. While there was a slight edge of disdain and distrust to her voice, it was more genuine curiosity and puzzlement.

"I don't know. But I'm guessing you'll be teaching me as much as your own teacher, and whatever I can teach you, I will. A Patronus, perhaps?"

"A what?" Schierke asked.

And with that, Harry smiled. He gathered every good memory he could think of, in his times at Hogwarts, and his times in the Band of the Hawk. The one that stood out most was that time he and Casca kissed, not the first time they had kissed, but not long afterwards, when they admitted their love. And with a cry of "EXPECTO PATRONUM!", a blast of silvery misty light emanated from his staff, coalescing into the form of a magnificent stag that trotted around the room.

He could see the sheer awe reflected in the eyes of Schierke, and even Ivalera. And Flora was smiling her own smile, though it seemed somewhat melancholy as well. He knew his own smile, and that of Casca, had a tinge of bittersweetness to them.

But they were alive. They were surviving. And they still had each other. That was what mattered…

* * *

 **OPENING**

 **SONG:** ** _The End is the Beginning is the End_** **by the Smashing Pumpkins**

 _As the opening chords begin, we travel through a dark, moonlit landscape, eventually focusing on a trio of figures surrounded by shadowy and demonic figures: a post-Eclipse Guts, a rather haggard and intense but lucid Casca, and Harry Potter, about the same age as the other two, wielding what looks like a simple staff. As the three of them fight, the screen is obscured by flames Harry summons, showing the title of the story as the lyrics begin_.

The sewers belch me out,

The heavens spit me out,

From aethers tragic, I am born again…

 _Harry seems to fall into dark waters, which flip and become the sky above Midland, from which he plummets. His eyes open up wide and we zoom in on them into darkness_ …

And now I'm with you now,

Inside your world of wow,

To move in desires made of deadly pretends,

Until the end times begin.

 _We cut to Harry riding alongside Guts and Casca, pre-Eclipse, before shifting to see the landscape of Midland. Then, we see Griffith speaking to Charlotte as he did about the nature of friendship after he sent Guts to kill Julius, before he clasps his Crimson Behelit, which we zoom in on. The facial features suddenly rearrange themselves, and it begins screaming, before we zoom in on its mouth_.

Is it bright where you are?

Have the people changed?

Does it make you happy

You're so strange?

 _We see key members of the Band of the Hawk: Judeau, Pippin, Corkus, and Rickert. Then, the King, Charlotte, the Queen and Julius. Then, we see Harry and Casca kissing, while Guts looks on with a wistful, even melancholy smile_.

And in your darkest hour,

I hold secrets flame.

You can watch the world

Devoured in its pain…

 _We watch the sun being devoured by the Eclipse, then a flash of the Skull Knight attacking Zodd. And Harry conjuring flames, illuminating the hellish landscape summoned by the Behelit. He, Guts and Casca are back to back, surrounded by Apostles (doesn't actually happen in the story, but it's the opening), before they look up, to see the gathered Godhand, including the newly-born Femto, the latter peering down at them coldly_.

Strange…

Strange…

 _We see Harry, Casca and Guts, like they were in the opening, fighting demons together, albeit within the hellish realm brought about by the Eclipse, before we finally see the aftermath of the opening, the older trio walking away from a small mountain of dismembered demonic corpses_ …

 **PROLOGUE ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Wow. So, any good?**

 ** _The End is the Beginning is the End_** **belongs to the Smashing Pumpkins and is probably one of the better things to come about as a result of** ** _Batman and Robin_** **. Obviously, I don't own the lyrics or the song. The fact that I chose the song for the 'opening' as well as the chapter title was a happy coincidence. I did the chapter title first, and realised, the song actually matched what I wanted for the opening.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	165. Ubi Amor, Ibi Dolor Chapter 1

**So, here's the thing. I actually had the first proper chapter of this story written and ready to post, and my momentum had me writing further chapters...until I realised, I had intended to do this as a combination of the 'Casca's Soul Mate' challenge with the 'Misery Loves Company' challenge. So I needed to go back, change it so that we had some foreshadowing of the soul bond a la my _Game of Thrones_ crossover _A Union of Dragons_. I also decided to change the future scene at the beginning, which was mostly a conversation between Harry and Guts via enchanted mirror. It still takes up too much of the chapter, but I do intend to have flashforwards later on at key intervals.**

 **I should take the time to emphasize that just because Harry and Casca have a soul bond doesn't necessarily mean they're in love already, or that they'll fall head over heels upon meeting in person. That's an even worse cliche than the concept of a soul bond. And their relationship will go through some rough patches, given that Casca is still very much enamoured with Griffith, and Harry's differing values, considering he comes from a modern era, as compared to the medieval fantasy world of _Berserk_. But they will come together.**

 **Once more, I have to thank deathbearABC123 for their encouragement and support in discussing this story. Thanks to their suggestion, I have bought the original anime adaptation of _Berserk_ to help shape the story. I will still endeavour to include elements from the manga that the original anime left out, though. Hopefully, this story will become a full one.**

* * *

 _ **UBI AMOR, IBI DOLOR**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **AN AUSPICIOUS MEETING**

 _It had been a couple of weeks since they started living at the Spirit Tree. Harry had written to Guts via the enchanted diaries he had set up for them, thanking Padfoot for leaving him that information. He knew that Guts needed something anchoring him to reality, in case his obsession with revenge on Griffith got him killed._

 _Not that Harry and Casca didn't share that desire for revenge. Harry had only witnessed the horror of the Eclipse first-hand at the last moment, when he rode in with the Skull Knight into that maelstrom…and into Hell. He remembered the sheer unadulterated fury he felt as he saw Femto bent over Casca's vacant body, Guts struggling to free himself from the Apostles in his own blinding rage. Casca's soul had fled her body as Femto, the demon formerly known as Griffith, violated her. Harry's mind had been a sanctuary. And her disgust and horror and trauma merged with his…and with it, their anger._

 _He remembered Femto looking at them coldly, his icy blue eyes now turned to fiery red. He remembered seeing the bizarre forms of Ubik and Conrad with their distorted faces, the grotesquely sensuous form of Slan, and the hideous face of Void, with its lack of skin, the bulging brain, and the sewn-up eyes. The bodies of their allies, lying in a hideous pool of blood and viscera. The Apostles capering around a landscape made of screaming faces._

 _Anger had boiled up within him, united with Casca, and even though his soul wasn't linked to Guts', the swordsman's own anger still fuelled Harry's own. And with that anger, came power. He remembered pointing his staff at them, watching the amusement on the faces of the Godhand, those who could or would smile, and the Apostles jeering at him. Until he uttered a single world._

 _"_ _ **FIENDFYRE!**_ _"_

 _His attack did little more than amuse the Godhand. He doubted he did more than singe their nostril hairs, not in this reality that was their hellish home. The Apostles, though…they were another story. A few the cursed flames consumed utterly. A few others ended up badly burned. Of course, others dodged it, or weathered the diabolical fire with contemptuous ease._

 _Harry poured everything he could into those flames. It wasn't just his wrath, but that of Casca and Guts. What had been a bloody hell became a burning hell, his comrades in the Band of the Hawk, Pippin, Judeau, Corkus and the others, gaining a funeral pyre._

 _He barely remembered what happened next, only that the Skull Knight had managed to pull them out of there. Seeing Rickert. Heading to the forge of Godo, Guts' old friend and blacksmith. Finding Charlotte there, transported by the Portkey he had left her with. The recriminations and arguments that followed. Casca struggling to deal with what had been done to her body. Charlotte's initial refusal to believe what Griffith had done. Eventually, a parting of ways. A long and arduous journey, chasing a rumour, chased by evil, leading to this place._

 _Only now were they beginning to settle down. Flora had accepted them quite readily, Schierke…well, it took her a while longer. Though she was also surprised that Harry and Casca were willing to learn from a little girl. But Harry told her why: Schierke reminded him of Hermione. Her studiousness, her bossiness, her intelligence._

 _Schierke was actually touched by the comparison. Not because she knew of Hermione, but also because she was actually being asked to teach Harry more magic. There was even a possibility that Casca could learn some herself. Apparently magic could be learned by virtually anyone here, as long as they had the right mindset. Casca was certainly eager for the distraction after Flora revealed what they had suspected…that Femto's actions had rendered Casca barren. Not that she would have definitely had kids one day…but maybe she may have. With Guts and Griffith as godfathers, Pippin and Judeau as uncles, Rickert as a big brother, and Corkus…well, being a disreputable sort, as usual._

 _Yet another thing Femto had stolen from them. Yet another reason, if any be needed, to avenge themselves on him._

 _Harry was carefully carving his new magic staff when Schierke sat down next to him. Casca was getting the seal on her brand re-done today by Flora, and Harry saw fit to give them privacy. The staff he had used before was mostly out of convenience, based on what little runework he had learned from Hermione and the notes left behind by Sirius. Flora, however, had encouraged Harry to make a better one, with the ancient witch (she hinted at being at least centuries old if not more) giving him some pointers. And whittling the piece of wood was therapeutic._

 _"Hey," he said to the young witch. "Nothing gone wrong?"_

 _Schierke shook her head. "No. But, while speaking to Mistress Flora, Casca mentioned something. She said…she had been having dreams about you since a young age. And you of her. She said something about a soul bond. That…it was how she survived what happened during the Eclipse, mentally. But soul bonds, especially of that type, they're rare. And to have them between two people from two different worlds…it's unheard of. If you never travelled to this world…the bond would never have strengthened."_

 _"…Maybe that's how I came to this world in the first place. I had an accident…well, of sorts. I'd angered the wrong people, well, Goblins. They were annoyed because, well, I broke into their bank to destroy one of those Horcruxes I told you and Flora about. They hired some thugs to attack me and mine. I'd already sent my friends to safety…but they hit my Portkey with a spell. I remember being thrown through a void…and then, I ended up nearly drowning in a lake. I was lucky I had supplies with me, ready to escape abroad. But…I wasn't happy. Still…maybe the soul bond saved me, by bringing me to this world. If the Godhand are the tools of a greater power, then that power would be evil, or at least destructive and sadistic. But maybe the soul bond, and bringing me here to Casca…maybe there's a power opposing that behind the Godhand. Because without that soul bond…I don't know what would have happened to Casca."_

 _Harry thought back to how they first met. If he had known what their eventual fate would be, what Griffith would do to them, he wouldn't have agreed. But he couldn't have known, and speculating about what he could have done did little. Besides, he had been in a bad way, and latching onto the Band of the Hawk as a means to belong…well, few could blame him, right?_

* * *

Not for the first time, Harry cursed the Goblins' hired goons for attacking his Portkey just as it activated. The nearly nineteen year old wizard shouted expletive after expletive into the uncaring heavens until he was on the verge of hoarseness. Then again, being stranded with few supplies in what seemed to be a medieval fantasy world he knew little about, even after several weeks' wandering, was rather trying. He was used to hardship, true, and compared to being on the run from Voldemort, or living with the Dursleys, this was a relative doddle…physically, anyway.

But he had been torn away from his friends. He'd sent them on ahead, sending them to other countries who refused to recognise Gringotts' jurisdiction. Those ungrateful little shits didn't care that he had broken in to destroy a Horcrux, not steal any treasure. No, it was out of wounded pride from the fact that he had broken in. And there were plenty of former Death Eaters the Goblins could hire to do their dirty work.

However, it was when he learned the name of this country, Midland, that he became surprised. Because it was a name he had heard from an imaginary friend he had seen only in his dreams. A strong girl, a feisty girl, one who had seen more than her fair share of suffering. He thought her an imaginary friend thrown up by his mind, to give him someone to talk to when he still slept in the cupboard under the stairs…but now, he wasn't so sure. Not unless this was a dying delusion.

Anyway, Midland was currently at war with another called Chuder. A bit of petty dick-waving with lethal consequences that had been going on for a century now, taking with it a heavy toll in human life and sanity. He'd skirted the edge of many a battlefield, intervening only when he thought it necessary. More than once, he had killed soldiers who had decided to rape some civilians near him. He killed them, left half of any money he found on them with their living victims, and took the rest for himself.

He just hoped he wasn't going to get a reputation as a folk hero. He'd had enough of that. He didn't mind playing the hero, it was something ingrained into his soul. But he didn't want the reputation that came with it. And in any case, he'd had enough playing nice. Playing nice got him a gratitude with a half-life was on a par with the transuranic elements (Hermione's words, not his), and his enemies mostly alive to stab him in the back, despite everything he had done.

Plus, apparently the local religion had issues against magic. Because why not? So he still had to be careful, if not more so, just in case the Holy See invited him to a barbeque.

He wasn't really sticking to main roads, instead crossing verdant fields strewn with boulders. Bandits, after all, had a bad habit of ambushing people there, and he was getting bored of stripping them of their memories, clothes and monies whenever they tried to rob him. He'd only just finished carving a staff, as a very crude magic focus (his last wand having snapped when he came here), as well as a walking stick. And a bludgeon, if need be.

He heard the whinnying of horses in the distance, and grimaced. Bandits…or soldiers, mercenary or not. Maybe if he was lucky, they would be friendly enough to let him by.

As he mounted one rise, he saw a group of horse riders (bandits?) surrounding a single swordsman. The aftermath of an earlier battle was apparent, with at least two riders down, one rolling around, clutching the stump of an arm. The swordsman was about to attack one of the horse riders whose steed was rearing up in fear, until another horse rider fired a crossbow into the swordsman's arm.

Harry very nearly veered away, until he realised something. A little way away, he could see a small group of soldiers, no, mercenaries, and a flag that seemed familiar. The Band of the Hawk, he realised.

He began running towards the battle, swiftly healing one of the fallen riders, who was on the verge of bleeding out from a bad gash to his side. Admittedly, Harry's knowledge of healing magic was shaky, and he wasn't sure whether the man would survive. Healing the man's stump was easier: he couldn't reattach the arm, but he could ensure the guy survived.

"Hey, who the fuck are you?!" demanded a rather ratty-looking man on a horse, before he looked over, and yelped, "Casca!" Harry whirled to see the crossbow wielder fall off their horse, the swordsman having severed the rear legs of the animal. The rider got up shakily, the helmet falling off their head, revealing a face Harry had only known from his dreams.

Dark hair, cut boyishly short. Her skin light brown. She was only a few years his junior, but she looked older. Her frame slender but athletic.

 _Casca_.

He stood there, staring, as she attacked the swordsman, who seemed initially startled by the attack, or perhaps that his assailant was a woman. But he eventually began fighting back, brutally and viciously, apparently lacking any qualms about fighting a girl. Casca was on the defensive, and then, she tripped and fell onto her back, the swordsman bringing his sword up into an overhead swing to administer the _coup de grace_.

For all his desire to conceal his magic, he still had his saving people thing. He knew he was going to regret this, but still…

With that in mind, he flung out a hand. "ACCIO, _CASCA!_ "

With a yelp of surprise, Casca zoomed towards him, dragged along the grass, just as a spear dug into the ground between her enemy's feet. Everyone, even the swordsman who had been about to kill her, stared as she sped along the ground towards Harry, skidding to a halt in front of him. He knelt down next to her, checking her.

"…You know you just upstaged me?"

This voice was a soft, gentle, but masculine one that carried, from a figure wearing elaborate armour, astride a white horse. He wore a strange helmet that vaguely looked like a predatory bird. A name came to Harry from a discussion in a dream he had with the girl he had just saved. _Griffith_.

"You're welcome for saving one of your best soldiers," Harry called back.

"Arsehole," Casca muttered from where she sat on the ground, shooting him a venomous look with her dark eyes. But then, she did a double take, dark eyes meeting emerald ones. "…Impossible," she whispered.

"That's not a very nice thing to say, Cas," Harry said. "I mean being an arsehole. I know I'm impossible. And improbable." Harry looked up, just in time to see the swordsman they had been attacking lash out at Griffith, only for Griffith to, improbably, block the massive sword with a sabre. The swordsman was clearly surprised, and was unprepared for Griffith's swift counterattack, the sabre jabbing into his chest. With a startled gasp, the man toppled over like a felled tree. Griffith looked down at him dispassionately, taking off his helmet.

Harry had to admit, Griffith was…unusual. If he hadn't heard his voice earlier, he would have believed Griffith to be a woman, with those delicate facial features, the full lips, the long tresses of bluish-white hair, and the pale blue eyes. Griffith then looked at Harry, and then at the men Harry had healed, noting the lack of blood coming from the stump of the man who lost his arm. "…Heal this one too, please." He indicated the swordsman. "Keep him under if you can."

"…He was trying to kill you and your men."

"And he was doing rather well, considering. My men are very good. I'm hoping he'd be amenable to an offer once tempers have cooled."

"…Your funeral," Harry said, healing the swordsman and placing a sleeping charm on him as insurance. Harry realised, despite the man's brutish features and the scar across his nose, he was actually about the same age as himself, or maybe as young as Griffith and Casca. It was hard to tell.

He had no way of knowing it, but this was an auspicious occasion. One that would grant him new friends and comrades…and even someone he would one day come to love. Days of tragedy, horror, laughter and life lay ahead, all in the Band of the Hawk…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, after more story from the future, we finally see how Harry almost literally stumbled his way into the Band of the Hawk.**

 **I've actually got a nice little soundtrack built up in my head for this fic. Aside from the opening in the prologue, here's some ideas. I did this before for my first fanfic, my** ** _Final Fantasy VII_** **crossover** ** _Harry Potter and the Cetra Heritage_** **(plug, plug), and so I'm doing it again. The image song is basically a song with lyrics, while the theme itself is a general leitmotif.**

 **Harry's Image Song:** ** _The Best is Yet to Come_** **from** ** _Metal Gear Solid_** **, Donna Burke version.**

 **Weary Wizard (Harry's Theme):** ** _Journey of the Sorcerer_** **by the Eagles.**

 **Casca's Image Song:** ** _Slingshot_** **by Trocadero.**

 **Never Feel Helpless Again (Casca's Theme):** ** _Theme of Laura_** **from** ** _Silent Hill 2_** **.**

 **Guts' Image Song:** ** _Short Change Hero_** **by the Heavy.**

 **My Blade is My Bond (Guts' Theme):** ** _EMIYA_** **from** ** _Fate/Stay Night: Unlimited Blade Works_** **.**

 **Griffith's Image Song:** ** _The World is Not Enough_** **by Garbage (the lyrics are surprisingly fitting).**

 **Ambition (Griffith's Theme):** ** _Rei I_** **from** ** _Neon Genesis Evangelion_** **.**

 **If you guys want some justification for said themes, I'll do them in another chapter.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	166. Post Tenebras Spero Lucem Chapter 2

**I don't think this story will make it to a full published story. That being said, I decided that I wanted to get this done, especially as von Stroheim is ridiculously fun to write (especially in an AU where he's not a Nazi), so here it is.**

 **That being said, I have some potential new crossovers in the pipeline, with most revolving around the anime series _GATE: Thus the JSDF Fought There_. Watch this space...**

* * *

 _ **POST TENEBRAS SPERO LUCEM**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **EXPLANATIONS**

Harry hadn't been expecting to wake up ever again, at least not a (relatively) free man. Not that being confined to a room with UV lamps shining down on him, making him feel sluggish, was freedom, but still, while he was wary of the Joestars, he also knew that they were opposed to Dio. Dio had often waxed lyrical about his hatred for them and the Speedwagon Foundation whenever Harry met him.

Dio hadn't told him what they had done to them, but Jonathan promised to do so shortly. He could sense wariness and fear from them, but not hatred. And some clothing had been sent through, along with rubber gloves. Harry wondered at that, but decided to go along with it. So did Tonks.

Ah, Tonks. He remembered having that precocious childish love for her when they were young, before Dio's agents kidnapped them. In fact, they were on a date at Hogsmeade, or at least what you could call one, when they were taken. Tonks had become his sole rock during those nine years of hell, the only person he could trust as they were experimented upon. Especially after he learned who had sold him to Dio.

Eventually, they were led through from the laboratory they woke up in through to…well, it was like living quarters. A little Spartan, true, and the UV lamps were on, but it was better than what they had in Dio's lab. A table had been set up in the middle, and Harry realised that there was food there…and so was the burly, blue-haired man who had introduced himself as Jonathan Joestar earlier. "Good afternoon," he said politely. He had changed from the singlet and trousers that they had seen through the observation window to somewhat more formal attire. "I was going to make this a working lunch. We have quite a bit to go through."

"Where's the others?" Tonks asked.

"Having lunch elsewhere," Jonathan said, moving around and pulling Tonks' chair out, allowing her to sit down. "My apologies. My manners are a bit rusty lately."

"Well, they're pretty good to me," Tonks said as Harry sat down himself. "So, you're Jonathan Joestar, aka JoJo the First."

Jonathan chuckled a little in embarrassment and good humour. "So, my reputation precedes me?"

"Yeah, even before Dio got us," Harry said. "Jonathan Joestar, co-founder and co-funder of the Speedwagon Foundation. You're pretty famous in Magical Britain for employing Squibs and Muggleborns who struggle to find jobs elsewhere. The Blood Purists hate your guts."

Jonathan chuckled again. "Indeed. It is a tradition started by the Joestars since Victorian times. We used to possess magic ourselves, but after many of our line began to become Squibs, and we were expelled from wizarding society, we decided to dedicate our lives to assisting Squibs and Muggleborns. This was long before Robert and I established the Speedwagon Foundation, though. That was in response to specific threats. Having met Dio Brando, I am sure you know what I speak of in one regard."

"Vampires," Harry said.

"Indeed. There are two ways to create a vampire. The first is for a vampire to drink the blood of a person and to transfer some of their own blood, enough to create a vampire, as opposed to ghouls, which are effectively zombies. The second is this." Jonathan picked up a rather sinister-looking mask, carved out of stone, showing a snarling or sneering face with fangs. "Wear this, smear blood on it, and it will shoot out spikes that penetrate the skull and interfere with the brain. Even after decades of study, we only know a little more about the Stone Masks than we did before."

"Who'd want to create more vampires?" Tonks asked. "I mean, aside from Dio?"

"It's a long story," Jonathan said, before he began eating. After a moment, Tonks and Harry did so as well. Eating food felt…well, a bit strange now. It was as if the food disappeared before reaching their stomachs…though they still felt satiated.

After a few minutes, Harry looked at his hands. "Why did you have us wear gloves? You're not wearing any yourself?"

Jonathan swallowed his current piece of food, before looking at Harry. "Protection. Do you even know what Dio did to you?"

"No. He said something about Pillar Men or something like that, but I don't know what he meant," Harry said.

Jonathan nodded solemnly. "Well, it's a rather tricky thing to explain. Perhaps I should be frank. The pair of you are no longer human, not entirely. You are now hybrids of another species of hominid known as the Pillar Men."

"And what's that when it's at home?" Tonks asked.

Jonathan frowned, seemingly marshalling his thoughts. "The Pillar Men are best described as an offshoot of humanity, or at least of the hominid line that eventually evolved into _Homo sapiens_. One could argue that they are the pinnacle of hominid evolution. They are extremely long-lived, capable of hibernating within rocky structures for millennia. In many regards, they are like vampires, only instead of drinking blood, they absorb prey directly by merging their flesh with said prey, their cells able to exude digestive fluid."

"Hence the gloves," Harry said, looking at his hands again.

"Indeed. Pillar Men also share the weakness of vampires to sunlight, though sunlight merely makes them dormant. Specifically, ultraviolet radiation of a specific wavelength."

"Hence the dance club lighting," Tonks said.

Jonathan chuckled softly. "Yes. It's a precaution more than anything. In truth, I am probably powerful enough to deal with both of you if need be. But I don't feel the need to. After all, both of you were unwilling test subjects."

"What do you mean, powerful enough?" Harry asked.

"That's my secret, for now…unless any of you know about _Hamon?_ The Ripple? _Sendo?_ "

"Dio mentioned something called the Ripple, but he didn't elaborate," Tonks said.

"Very well. Now, as it stands, you're too old to go to Hogwarts now, and I doubt that they'd allow you to go, if they knew even an iota of what you've become. Given that you can't go out into sunlight anymore, concealing your new natures is virtually impossible. But as you both are victims of Dio Brando, I cannot allow you two to be left out in the cold. I'd like to consider myself a gentleman first and foremost, and as powerful as you both are, you would be considered outcasts within Magical Britain, or indeed in mainstream society. At the very least, I can offer the pair of you sanctuary within the Speedwagon Foundation. If you wish, I can even offer you employment."

"Doing what?" Harry asked, somewhat suspiciously.

"I'm still thinking about that. How much of an education were you given while in Dio's custody?"

"Dr Wang Chan educated us to what he considered a secondary level," Harry said. "He said he despised stupid people. Then again, he despised pretty much everything else."

"Hmm. Dr Chan used to do research work for us, before he tried to help Dio poison my father," Jonathan remarked. "And you do not need to accept my offer straight away by any means. I'm just placing my cards on the table."

Harry and Tonks looked at each other. "And if we refuse to work for you? If we don't want to have anything to do with the Speedwagon Foundation?" Harry asked.

"We will make arrangements for you to live somewhere. You'll be monitored until you aren't deemed a threat. Please understand, we have faced other Pillar Men before, and most of them were utterly antagonistic. We are taking precautions."

"What do you mean by that?"

"We encountered four Pillar Men, one in Mexico, and three others in Rome. Luckily, we were able to stop them, but at a terrible cost. A good friend of mine, and my teacher, William Anthony Zeppeli, died in the process of saving my life from a Pillar Man called Esidisi. The one from Mexico, Santana, disappeared after being defeated. It was probably his remains used to turn you both into Pillar Men hybrids."

"Of course it vas!"

Harry and Tonks all but jumped out of their chairs when they saw that a nearby door had opened, and a most extraordinary figure was leaning against the frame. He was a powerfully-built, handsome-looking man with blonde hair cut in a strange flat-top. However, part of his face looked mechanical, with his right eye replaced by a single lens that scrutinised them. He was dressed in a lab coat over a khaki shirt and trousers that looked vaguely militaristic.

Jonathan grimaced as he looked at the newcomer. "Doctor von Stroheim, I was in the middle of a conversation. Besides, I left strict orders that I wasn't to be disturbed."

"Und ven did I ever listen to such nonsense, Herr Joestar?" the man said, having a thick German accent. "Besides, I am sure Fraulein Joestar vould feel better at having me by your side. My body is a marvel of engineering, built for science und combat! Truly, German science und engineering is ze best in all ze vurld!"

"…You sound like a pantomime Nazi villain from _Indiana Jones_ ," Tonks said with a deadpan look.

Von Stroheim clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Ach, just because I am German und enjoy being somevat theatrical doesn't make me a Nazi! Anymore zan being a Pureblood wizard automatically meaning you are a Death Eater, _ja?_ "

"Doctor von Stroheim used to be with the German Army, though he is also a leading expert in cybernetics," Jonathan explained. "My son and his comrade encountered him while dealing with the Pillar Men, and after he was invalided out due to injuries sustained, he joined us here at the Speedwagon Foundation."

"Ach, I prefer being a doctor zan a major, anyvay. More interesting, studying vampires und vizards und ze like."

"…So you're a cyborg?" Harry asked.

" _Ja_ , but zat is obvious. Still, zis is very expensive. I am vorking vith Herr Joestar and Herr Speedwagon to ensure zat ze costs are less prohibitive." He fished out of his labcoat what looked like a golf ball. "Still, I can't complain about zis body," he remarked, before crushing the golf ball as if it was an egg. "Vell, maintenance is a bitch, but vat can you do? Anyvay, you two are quite fascinating. Pillar Man hybrids, und mages to boot!"

"…Mr Joestar, why do I get the feeling that he will dissect us in our sleep?" Harry asked.

"I vould never dissect someone who is alive!" von Stroheim protested. "Anyvay, ze correct term is 'vivisect' when ze person is still alive."

"Rudol, you're not making them feel at ease!" Jonathan snapped.

"JoJo!" von Stroheim snapped. Then, more quietly, his features softening, he said, "Zey just got out of being Dio Brando's _verdammt_ guinea pigs, and zey are confined here until ve are sure zey are not a threat. How can anyone be at ease in a situation like zat? Incidentally, I came here for more zan to say _Guten Abend_ to ze guests. Ve have received another one of You-Know-Vat after ze last one got stolen."

Jonathan seemed to look at von Stroheim, who nodded. "I see. Well, prepare to do the testing we were doing on the other."

"Of course." Doctor von Stroheim left the room.

"Sorry about Rudol," Jonathan said. "He's a good man, but he's rather enthusiastic and eccentric."

"And the 'You Know What'?" Harry asked.

"A project of ours. Aside from magic, we also investigate other paranormal abilities. What Rudol was referring to was related to one of them. Actually, Rudol didn't need to be obtuse. Long ago, a meteorite landed in Greenland, and several centuries ago, someone carved off part of the meteorite to create arrowheads with supposedly mystical properties. In truth, the mineral contains an alien virus of sorts, albeit one that can only infect through bodily fluids. Most people infected with the virus die, but others survive, and gain a strange power. They gain the ability to project their will as a kind of familiar that protects them, even can attack with special abilities. Some gain this power on their own without the need for the virus: my grandson, Jotaro Kujo, has a couple of friends who can use this power, and my granddaughter Jolyne can use one herself. These arrowheads I mentioned, then, have the ability to cause people to gain this power."

"Sounds like something worth killing for," Tonks remarked. "Is that why someone stole one of them? From you?"

"Indeed. This terrifying power, this familiar…we at the Speedwagon Foundation gave it a name. As it stands by your side in battle…we call it a Stand…"

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Dun dun DUNNNN!**

 **It was pretty fun writing von Stroheim. I get the feeling that if he wasn't a Nazi, he'd be a mad scientist, albeit with just enough of a moral centre.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	167. Parva Sub Ingenti Chapter 1

**So, here's me doing another stab at Anubis of the Highway Thieves' 'Of Jumping Dimensions and Drunken Marriages' challenge. And this is a crossover I've been meaning to do for a little while. While it's not the first such crossover (that honour belongs to a _Naruto_ fanfic attempt), it's my first attempt at crossing the Potterverse with this series, which is a shame, considering that I think this series has a lot of crossover potential, but only two Potterverse fics (one a single chapter, the other a decent but not stellar fic) have been made so far.**

 **I am talking about _GATE: Thus the JSDF Fought There_.**

 **It actually took some time to get this working. I originally considered answering my own 'Harry Mercury' challenge (to those of you familiar with _GATE_ , can you imagine Harry raised by Rory Mercury? You may excuse yourself to get clean underpants if need be), and while that went nowhere, after considerable discussion with Leaf Ranger and especially Arawn D Draven, I've come up with this fic. It features a post-Hogwarts Harry, Luna and Hermione crossing over to the world beyond the Gate, a few years before the Gate appears in Japan. Not a Lunar Harmony fic, though. Harry's getting paired with Tyuule (albeit a Tyuule who was saved from being Zorzal's sex slave) and possibly Delilah.**

 **Also, this marks the third time that I've paired Harry with a bunny girl, after Mjrn in my _Final Fantasy XII_ crossover _Nitimur in Vetitum_ , and Velvet in my _RWBY_ crossover _Pulvis et Umbra Sumus_. Huh. And in each of those, I gave it a pretentious Latin title. Oh well. It won't count if it doesn't get off the ground. Speaking of pretentious Latin titles, this title means 'the small under the huge', meaning the strong protecting the weak, a theme that will grow throughout the story.**

 **Finally, this is unlikely to be the last _GATE_ crossover I do. In fact, I'm strongly considering doing a crossover with _One Punch Man_ , in accordance with my 'GATE: Thus the Hero's Association Fought There' challenge.**

 **I should thank Leaf Ranger and Arawn D Draven for their patience with my questions about _GATE_ canon beyond the anime. While I was aware of some plot developments, I wanted clarification.**

* * *

 _ **PARVA SUB INGENTI**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **LUNACY, LIQUOR AND LAGOMORPHIC LADIES**

"I love the smell of Fiendfyre in the morning. Smells like… _victory_."

Hermione Granger glanced at the form of Luna Lovegood as she skipped alongside her, and grimaced. _Note to self_ , she thought. _Do not show Luna too many more films. She's getting ideas_. Then again, Hermione couldn't remember ever showing Luna _Apocalypse Now_. In fact, she thought Luna was more into science fiction and fantasy.

Not that much Fiendfyre, or indeed fire in general, had been used here on this battlefield. She was grateful for that. Getting caught up in a local conflict was bad enough, but she didn't think she wanted to smell roasted human flesh.

How did she get into this mess? Oh, right, that was why. She joined the Unspeakables. She decided she wanted to investigate the Veil when she, along with Luna and Harry, realised it was a portal to another world. And with their respective relationships with the Weasleys having gone somewhat sour due to various circumstances, they decided to go through it, regardless of whether or not it was a one-way trip.

And now, here they were, not exactly stranded in a world that was a hybrid of a European medieval fantasy world and the Roman Empire, but still, going back meant being ferried by Phoenix or House Elf, and their mission was mostly exploration. Not to mention that they were to avoid getting involved.

Unfortunately, that plan sort of went out the window when she and Luna got separated from Harry, and they'd lost their original homing Portkeys. Yesterday afternoon, they had met a retreating Imperial convoy who were escorting the now-catatonic Prince Zorzal El Caesar (heir to the throne and all-round prick, apparently). They were able to get some information, about how a sorcerer had been captured and taken to their camp, only to free himself and save Tyuule, Queen of the Bunny Warriors, who had been captured and brought to the Imperial camp to negotiate the surrender of her people. Said sorcerer had then helped the Bunny Warriors turn the tide of their battle against Zorzal's forces, helped by the fact that Zorzal had been tortured into catatonia by dark magic.

The soldiers looked set to try their luck with Hermione and Luna, until their current travelling companion made herself known. And they clearly didn't want to evoke the wrath of said companion, even if she didn't look like she would be much against a group of enemies. Then again, looks could be deceiving.

Their travelling companion seemed to be a girl in her early teens, wearing a black, frilly dress trimmed in red, with a disturbingly high hemline. Hermione recalled that this seemed to be a Gothic Lolita style of dress. The girl had black hair, glossy like a raven's feathers, and crimson eyes. On top of her head was a bow that gave her a vaguely feline profile. Most extraordinary of all was the massive halberd she was wielding, too large and heavy for a child her apparent age to be wielding. She seemed more like a cosplayer at some sort of convention than anything even for an average fantasy world.

There was something vaguely feline about her, and not just with the bow that looked like cat ears. There was the same playful attitude, a mixture of simple childishness and a bloodthirstiness, a savagery that lay beneath the beauty. Hermione briefly recalled William Blake's poem _Tyger! Tyger!_ , and marvelled at the fearful symmetry here. She wondered how Crookshanks would deal with her, before wincing at the reminder of her faithful pet, beheaded and then having his head mailed to her with a note saying _You're Next, Mudblood_ by Theodore Nott a few months back. Another reason to leave, along with her cooling relationship with Ron.

In any case, their travelling companion, whom they had met after their first day in this world, was Rory Mercury. Despite her apparent age, she was actually over 900 years old, given immortality by the deity she was the Apostle of, the war god Emroy. She was also ridiculously strong, skilled, and could regenerate from pretty much any wound. Basically, she was an unstoppable bloodthirsty killing machine.

And Luna, of course, had promptly called Rory her new friend, much to Hermione's bemusement, and Rory's initial bemusement, followed by amusement. So now, they had a possibly psychotic, definitely dangerous, demigod tagging along. Hermione was admittedly worried, especially when Rory stated why she was accompanying them.

She had apparently been approached by a rival Apostle, Giselle, the herald of the local death god, impossibly called 'Hardy'. Luna had promptly asked whether there was another one called 'Laurel(1)'. In any case, Giselle had told Rory that a trio of wizards from another world had fallen through one of Hardy's lesser gateways, one of whom was carrying three relics Hardy had, on a whim, given to another trio of wizards, just to see what chaos would unfold.

Still, they had confirmation of something from Rory, good news. But they needed to find Harry first, and by the time they had thought to use a Patronus, the Patronus didn't go to Harry. This meant he was kipping in his expanded trunk. The Point Me spell worked fine, so he was still alive.

But the landscape they were walking through, towards one of the larger settlements of the Bunny Warriors, bore the scars of battle. Craters from magical explosions, blood and viscera, though the bodies proper seemed to have been dealt with. Vanished by magic, then?

Rory shivered, but not in fear. Instead, it seemed to be delight. "Oh, I should have been here. I felt their demises from so far away. It was so… _wonderful._ "

"Too much information," Luna remarked. And when Luna Lovegood, a Ravenclaw born and bred despite her eccentricities and wild imagination, thought that something was 'too much information', you know it disturbed her. Hermione knew what she meant. Rory acted as a conduit to Emroy, sending him the souls of those perishing in battle close to her. In the process, it acted almost like an aphrodisiac, according to the Apostle herself. "You need a hobby. I mean, aside from bloodshed, slaughter, and dressing like a Gothic Lolita."

Rory scowled. She had picked up English quite readily due to her demigod status, so they hadn't used a translation charm since yesterday. "The last time I had a hobby, which was rare coin collecting by the way, Giselle stole my collection on Hardy's orders and put them in a deep cave for me to retrieve, where Hardy'd be able to get me."

"Wow," Hermione said. "That's…petty. Doesn't she understand the concept of consent? That no means _no?_ "

Rory shrugged. "Consent is something too many mortals disregard, and some gods are no different. At least Emroy cares not from whence the blood flows." Rory grinned in her unnerving manner. "Only that there is blood, and why it is shed(2)."

"Your cleaning bill must be big," Luna remarked.

"Enchanted clothing," Rory said with a smile. "Regenerates holes, repels stains, and always smells like…well, whatever I'm in the mood for."

"Which appears to be citrus," Hermione said, sniffing. "Oranges?"

"Blood oranges," Rory and Luna said simultaneously, before high-fiving. Hermione merely facepalmed. Of _course_ it was.

The gate to the settlement was guarded by a pair of sentries, both of whom were athletic, beautiful women, dressed in clothing that, while not skimpy per se, showed quite a bit of skin. However, they weren't human: a pair of rabbit-like ears poked through their hair, and fur covered much of their arms and legs. These, then, were the Bunny Warriors. They looked wary, and a little fatigued. One of them looked up as they approached. " _Drana'c cusauha lusehk_ ," Hermione heard her say, wincing that she didn't replace the translation charm since yesterday.

" _Ec dryd…ec dryd dra Ybucma uv Emroy, Rory Mercury?_ " the other sentry asked.

" _Ed ec!_ " the first sentry said, nodding her head. They looked wary of the newcomers, but there was also hope on their faces.

Rory approached them, and said, " _Re! E's lineuic, tu oui rybbah du ryja y haf Hume syka eh ouin lysb?_ "

The first sentry nodded once more. " _Oac, ehtaat, Myto Mercury. Ra nacliat Xiaah Tyuule eh ran desa uv haat vnus dryd jema Hume Zorzal. Fedruid res, uin pyddmac syo hud ryja paah fuh, yht ajah drah, ed fyc lmuca._ " She looked at Hermione and Luna, the latter of whom waved cheerfully, and asked, " _Yht fru yna draca yllusbyhoehk ouin yikicd bancuhyka?_ "

" _Drao yna vneahtc uv dra syka fru rambat oui. Drao ryja paah caynlrehk vun res. Ra kuac po dra hysa uv Harry Potter, tuac ra hud?_ "

" _Oac. Ev drao yna dnimo rec vneahtc, drah drao yna vneahtc uv uin baubma duu. Rufajan, Xiaah Tyuule nadenat fedr dra Ruhuinat Cunlanan Harry Potter vun dra hekrd. Drao fana...nydran tnihg._ "

Rory snickered to herself. "Oh dear," she said in English. "Your friend was rather busy, saving their queen, Tyuule. He's already being called an 'Honoured Sorcerer' by them for fighting for them, though apparently it was still a fairly close battle. Apparently they were last seen rather heavily drunk."

Hermione facepalmed once more. "Oh, Harry, what have you gotten yourself into now?"

"Probably someone's bed," Luna said cheerfully. "He's too pent up. About time he got laid."

Rory cackled, and Hermione growled, "Luna Lachesis Lovegood(3), this is serious."

"We haven't found _him_ yet, remember? We were looking for _Harry_."

"Who was last seen, heavily drunk, with the Queen of a warrior race. We're trying to explore the world beyond the Veil. I know complications are inevitable, especially where Harry is involved, but we need to keep them to a minimum." Though Hermione knew that she would probably end up causing more than a few waves here. Slavery, especially sex slavery, was ridiculously common in this world, according to Rory. House Elves in symbiosis with the magic of their employers was one thing. And some part of her wouldn't let that stand.

* * *

The first thing he noticed was the pain, like someone was taking the Sword of Godric Gryffindor, Basilisk venom and all, and using his brain as a scabbard. The second thing he noticed was the taste in his mouth, like he'd been forced to eat a Dungbomb and it went off in his mouth. The third thing he noticed was the pair of larger furry things wrapped around him. The fourth was that he could feel someone of the female persuasion pressing into his naked back, what had to be (thankfully) cloth-covered breasts pressing into his back. As he opened his eyes blearily (thankfully, his bedroom in the expanded trunk was dim enough so that it didn't hurt his currently very sensitive eyes), he realised that those last two things were connected, as he had a pair of furry arms wrapped around his torso, though the delicate and very feminine hands were not covered in fur.

And then, he saw something on a finger of one of said hands that sent a chill down his spine.

A ring. A very familiar ring.

Before he could process this, he felt his bedmate shift behind him, yawning gently, wriggling out from behind him. He twisted around to look at his bedmate. Morning amnesia and a hangover conspired to keep him from recognising her, at least immediately. Still, he stared at the woman as she moved what looked like a traffic cone out of the bed. Or whatever she was.

True, she had a shapely, athletic, and yet surprisingly buxom body, concealed by a shift with matching panties, or at least the medieval equivalent. Snow white hair framed pale features that looked to be someone in their twenties, while crimson eyes peered at him, a little blearily at first, but, thankfully, she didn't seem to object to being in his bed, especially if the rather gentle smile she favoured him with was any indication.

But she had fur, the same colour as her hair, covering part of her arms and legs. And protruding from her hair were a pair of long ears, like those of a rabbit.

After a moment's uncertainty, he said, "Uhhh, good morning?"

She winced, clutching her own head. "Not so loud. I didn't drink quite as much as you did, but I still have a hangover. Wait a moment…you left these out." She reached over to the bedside table, and plucked some familiar vials from it. She handed one over to Harry, and drank hers herself, before grimacing. "Ugh, it tastes like Ma Nuga excrement smells," she complained.

Harry drank his own, and grimaced in his own turn, though the headache and the nausea went away almost instantly. "If a Ma Nuga is your equivalent of a cow, then I agree. It does taste like cowpats would."

The rabbit woman nodded. "Still, better a hangover in freedom than suffering in slavery," she mused, before peering at him. "…You don't remember?"

"I remember a lot of drinking, we'd just fought what looked like Roman legionnaires…oh! Wait! You're Queen Tyuule of the Bunny Warriors!" Harry said, speaking his thoughts out loud. He then paled. "Shit…did we…"

"We only slept together in the most literal sense if that's what you're worried about," Tyuule said. "You were a perfect gentleman, even when drunk. More than many Humes I have met(4)."

Harry remembered something of last night. There had been a massive celebration about how they managed to win, albeit a hard-won victory, against the forces of the Saderan Empire. He'd gotten to talking with Tyuule as the drinks ran more and more. About the expectations foisted upon them, the sacrifices they had been forced to make. And then…a suggestion. An insane suggestion that they still accepted.

Harry realised he could feel metal on his own ring finger. He stared at it. The Potter marriage ring. Used to officially bind husband and wife in a magical marriage. They were actually rarely used for a few reasons: the binding was for life, which was potentially dangerous. However, to counter that, they wouldn't actually allow any magical binding to take place without some sort of compatibility involved.

"…We're married?" Harry asked, in shock.

She had the decency to look sheepish. "Yes. You are now my official consort..."

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Well, at least it isn't Vegas. And at least Tyuule hasn't been basically made Zorzal's sex slave. And yes, I used Al Bhed for the Bunny Warriors' language.**

 **1\. If you haven't heard of Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy, shame on you.**

 **2\. I wouldn't be surprised if Emroy was basically Khorne from** ** _Warhammer_** **.**

 **3\. This version of Luna's full name was taken from Silently Watches'** ** _Faery Heroes_** **.**

 **4\. I actually chose to use the term 'Hume' here as a bit of a nod to** ** _Final Fantasy XII_** **. I mean, after all, the Bunny Warriors look a bit like a ripoff of the Viera, and 'Humes' is the term used for humans in that game, so…why not?**


	168. Parva Sub Ingenti Chapter 2

**So, I have to admit, I loved the good reviews for this. However, a couple of reviewers pointed out something that I need to clarify. Harry and Tyuule don't technically have a soul bond as much as a magical bond, thanks to the rings. What's more, they're not actually in love, not by any means, but during the heightened emotions after that battle, along with the drink flowing, Harry and Tyuule opened up to each other. Tyuule also had a rather selfish reason that she wanted to keep Harry in the tribe as a protector, and when he discussed the various trinkets he brought from home, including the Potter marriage rings, she asked to try one to see if she was compatible. After then, he made a remark about marriage, albeit while plastered. The consent was dubious on both sides, admittedly, due to inebriation, but the marriage rings would not have allowed it unless they were compatible. This was something I actually wrote into all of my Blood Brandy-style stories after complaints with the first one: the marital bond does not happen unless they are compatible to a strong enough degree. It's a bit like an arranged marriage that manages to work and Harry are going to try and work this out. Harry has his saving people thing, Tyuule wants him to help her tribe, and it doesn't hurt that they are physically attracted to each other, even if that's a mild lust as opposed to actual love.**

 **One of the reviewers pointed out that Harry wouldn't need the rings to be bound to Tyuule, that she is enough in his debt, along with the rest of her people, to want to bed him. I don't think that either Harry or Tyuule are at all like that. Harry, while he might go for a one-night stand with a consensual partner (how he is in this story, anyway), would never use a debt as a leverage to bed someone. And Tyuule, while she did sacrifice herself in _GATE_ canon to become Zorzal's sex-slave to try and save her people (which backfired, as those familiar with the series will know), would probably be reluctant to force the issue. This guy saved her people, and hadn't really asked for much of a reward. He actually refused the advances of many other Bunny Warriors during the night's revelries. It's not because he doesn't want to have sex with them, but he'd prefer to get to know them first. However, drink and careless talk led to what happened here. They haven't had sex, they've just done something very stupid that will work out better later on in the story. Serendipity at its finest, ladies and gentlemen.**

 **The whole marriage bond thing came about because I was struggling for an angle for a _GATE_ crossover that wouldn't be a redo of what Split-Girl already did. Anubis of the Highway Thieves' challenge helped, as it's basically Blood Brandy without the Vegas angle. I also knew that, for any story with a post-Hogwarts or post-Hogwarts age Harry (and if you're wondering what kind of distinction that is, I was considering doing a WBWL fic based on my 'Harry Mercury' challenge with Harry about 19), I wanted to pair him with Tyuule. Tyuule's story is a rather tragic one, and I wanted to save her from her fate. While Yao, Delilah, and Pina would still be possibilities, I had my mind set on Tyuule, long before I actually watched the episodes where she first appeared.**

 **I also had to use the fanon marriage rings because, while discussing things with Arawn D Draven, they mentioned that the Bunny Warriors don't really have a concept of marriage as most people would consider it. I needed something to bind them together. And quite frankly, my initial idea, which was of Luna basically persuading Tyuule to marry Harry like Luna was trying to emulate Emma Woodhouse, painted Luna in a pretty bad light, frankly. Here, where it happens because of two people coming down off a battle high and filled with alcohol and heightened emotion, it's better, if only because it's due to stupidity rather than manipulation.**

 **Now, if, despite all that I said above, you still take issue with it, remember: _Don't Like, Don't Read, Don't Review_.**

 **To all of those looking forward to this next chapter, sorry for the rant, and I hope you enjoy. Hopefully, this is to your liking.**

 **Oh, and while I couldn't figure out how to describe the opening titles of this story, for those of you who want an opening theme (rmarcano321, _I am looking at you_ ), I suggest Jonathan Young's cover of _The World_ by Nightmare, aka the first opening song of _Death Note_. Specifically, the shortened version that would have been used for the opening titles.**

* * *

 _ **PARVA SUB INGENTI**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **THE QUEEN, THE WIZARD, AND THE APOSTLE**

"…So, let me get this straight," Harry said. He was trying to keep a hold on his temper, trying to keep calm. Only the fact that the Potter marriage ring would not have allowed him to be bound to this woman unless there was enough compatibility and the fact that Tyuule looked rather embarrassed (and a little annoyed as well) helped. "Last night, while we were getting plastered, we got to talking. Then, while you were lamenting the lack of mages amongst your people and wondering whether I would stay to help…I made a comment about marriage. And things escalated from there."

Tyuule nodded, and Harry groaned, putting his face in his hands. Eventually, he said, "Don't get me wrong, I'm more angry about this because we've only known each other for a couple of days, and, well, we did this while drunk. When we first met, you were on the verge of giving yourself up to save your people, even if that bastard was going to renege on the deal. That takes guts. I've done something like that before." Shaking his head, he turned back to Tyuule. "So…this is one of those things that is unbreakable and binding magically. Trying to break it will have consequences for us both. I'm sorry, I really am."

Tyuule shook her head. "No, I should apologise. I was less drunk than you, and theoretically capable of making a better decision. But I was following a selfish desire to keep a powerful mage within this tribe, to help defend us, despite the fact that I owed you a very deep debt. Our people do not have marriage as you Humes or other peoples have, but you spoke of your prior relationships ending badly…"

"…So we basically both fucked up," Harry said, grateful that the Potter marriage rings included some sort of translation charm. "Well, as long as we're not going to kill each other…do you want to talk it out? Preferably while sober?"

"Indeed." She looked at Harry, before her features softened. "Don't misunderstand me, your valour and prowess was without reproach, and what I saw of your character before we got drunk…it's just that some amongst my people may not take our bond the right way. I will keep this quiet. I will still tell them that I have taken you as a consort, just not about the binding. I promise you, Honoured Sorcerer, I will find a way to repay my debt to you, to say nothing of that my people owe you."

Harry sighed quietly. Did he seriously just acquire another appellation? "Tyuule…do you mind if I call you that instead of Your Majesty or anything like that?"

"In private and amongst trusted people, you may. In public, refer to me as Lady Tyuule. Given your help, that will more than suffice."

"Okay, thanks. Tyuule…I don't like being called Honoured Sorcerer. Just call me Harry, in public or private."

Tyuule actually chuckled. "Perhaps, but…my people will be calling you that for a long time yet, Harry. You'd best get used to it."

"Anyway, about debts…the only one I'd want repaid is if you knew anything about the whereabouts of someone close to me," Harry said. "I don't think I talked about him last night."

"You mentioned him, and that he may be in this world…but not his name. However, you indicated that magic was hidden on your world, whereas here, it is, if not commonplace, then known. However, I will use our resources and contacts. We are on good terms with some of the Saderan Empire's vassal states, particularly Italica and the Formal Clan…"

There was a sudden knock on the door. "Lady Tyuule? Are you in there?" came a female voice.

"…Yes! Delilah, neither of us are decent yet, but the bed was lovely."

"…Understood."

"The bed was what?" Harry asked as he hurriedly pulled on a shirt and trousers, deciding he would bathe later.

Tyuule went over to her own clothes, giving Harry a rather good look at her shapely rear, and the white tuft of her tail behind it. "A codephrase. If I had said 'the bed was uncomfortable', it meant I was under duress. However, this means I am unharmed and safe."

Harry turned away as she dressed, before finally, Tyuule joined him by his side, her clothes still a bit revealing, but somewhat regal. "You may enter, Delilah," she said. A brown-haired Bunny Warrior in rather skimpy combat clothes appeared, and Harry remembered her from last night. During combat, she was serious as hell, but during the revels afterwards, she was actually very nice.

Delilah wasn't alone, though. Three others accompanied her, two of whom were very familiar to Harry: the blonde, dotty features of Luna Lovegood, and the bushy-haired Hermione Granger, the latter of whom was looking both annoyed and relieved. The third appeared to be a dark-haired girl in her early teens, dressed as a Gothic Lolita, and wielding an oversized halberd. She sniffed the air, and pouted. "Awww, they didn't do it. All I can smell is halitosis and alcohol," she said in a disappointed tone. Her voice strangely seemed older, a bit more deep and mature than her small frame would suggest, like a woman in her twenties rather than a young teenager.

"Lady Mercury, this is an unexpected pleasure," Tyuule said, looking a bit off-balance. Clearly, this girl was someone, surprisingly, that Tyuule respected.

"Greetings, Queen Tyuule of the Bunny Warriors," the girl said, bowing briefly. "I am sure Emroy is pleased at the amount of Imperials you sent to him, and I hope those of your people who perished will know happiness with him. As an Apostle of Emroy, I am technically neutral in such matters as conflicts between kingdoms…but on a personal level, I am glad that Zorzal did not take you as his prize. These two are friends of this young man, Hermione Granger and Luna Lovegood."

"Indeed. Well met, Hermione Granger and Luna Lovegood," Tyuule said, nodding. "I owe your friend a great debt. Harry, do you mind if I speak to Delilah for a moment alone?"

"Sure," Harry said, and the two Bunny Warriors left the room, closing the door behind them…

* * *

Tyuule thanked the various gods that Delilah at least didn't jump to the wrong conclusion. The brunette Bunny Warrior frowned. "So, you sought to bind him to us through marriage, and there was a magical bond that is now irrevocable? I can understand your reasons, Lady Tyuule, even if there are many who would think he ensorcelled you."

"But you don't think he did?"

"I was there when you wed him. No, you both were drunk and being impulsive. I did not stop you because…you looked _happy_ , Lady Tyuule, more than you ever have since ascending to our ruler. This Hume sorcerer and yourself had already hit it off, despite your short acquaintance. Still, your idea to conceal this bond is a sound one, for now. Some may think that he made this bond with you without your consent, that he may have been a plant from one of the Hume kingdoms or states to gain control of us. Not all of us look upon Count Colt Formal favourably, after all, not to mention our other allies."

Tyuule nodded, crossing her arms under her bust, a pensive look coming over her face. "I know. Delilah…I don't know what would have happened if he hadn't come. Zorzal was telling me to surrender myself, and you would be spared…but Harry claims that Zorzal intended to renege on the deal anyway and claim that I sold you out."

"It wouldn't surprise me," Delilah said. "Zorzal El Caesar is already infamous for not keeping his word. Such twisted stratagems would not be beyond him. In doing this, he would prevent any survivors who escaped death or slavery from uniting under your name, instead becoming your most hated enemies. Count Formal would probably be our best chance of refuge, and even then, we would have to act, overtly at least, as his servants, as Mamina does as our agent there. Do you think there will be any reprisals from the Emperor?"

"Possibly, but the humiliation of his son and what will be doubtless reports of Harry will give him pause for thought. Molt Sol Augustus is a cruel and brutal man like his son, but unlike his son, he knows restraint and pragmatism. It may be that he decides to treat with us, establish peace until he believes we are vulnerable once more," Tyuule said. "While we have fought against him over the past few years, he has never quite managed to conquer or vanquish us, and sooner rather than later, he would have to cut his losses, lest he weaken his forces to the point where his vassals could possibly threaten him. I don't expect him to keep any peace treaty permanently, just keep it long enough for us to recover, and we aren't intending to conquer their Empire in any case. They have more to worry about from the Haryo and their activities."

"We nearly lost that last battle."

"Yes. In fact, if it weren't for Harry, we would have been done for. I very nearly gave in to Zorzal's offer for that reason. And we can't be wholly reliant on his magic either, or that of his friends. We need more than one trump card, lest our people end up slaughtered and subjugated like Zorzal intended."

"…For now, we should enjoy what time it has bought us," Delilah said, before she smiled slightly. "Though I have to say, you have good taste. He's rather scrawny for a Hume, but handsome too."

"Well, if the bond allows us to, I'd be willing to share," Tyuule said with a smile of her own. "If his offspring are able to wield magic, then it may help us gain an advantage…"

* * *

"Stop sitting on my lap and wriggling like that."

Rory Mercury pouted. "I'm 958 years old, you know."

Harry glared back, before using a Levitation Charm to gently take her off his lap, and placing her next to him. "And you still look like you're way too young. I don't mind having a little sister…big sister…whatever. But we are setting boundaries. I don't care if you're a demigod. The first rule is no means no. I'm not averse to hugs, though."

"…You know, in all my centuries of being Apostle to Emroy, I have never been spoken to like that before," Rory said, her tone dangerous. She then tilted her head, and smirked. "It's kind of interesting." She then indicated Hermione, who was trying to calm herself after hearing what Harry had to say, taking deep, regular breaths. "Is she going to be all right?"

"Yes. I hope," Harry added, a little uncertainly. "I have a tendency to end up in situations like these. My luck's pretty bipolar."

"I'm all right. I just needed a moment to process this and calm down," the bushy-haired woman said. "If we hadn't decided to just be friends, though, we would be having stronger words, Harry."

"Oh, Bunny Warriors are very amenable to polyamory," Rory said offhandedly. "And given how rare mages are amongst their kind, maybe they'll tie him down, feed him an aphrodisiac, and they'll be at it like…"

"Rabbits?" Luna asked with an impish smile.

"You said it, not me."

"Not helping, Luna," Harry muttered.

Hermione shook her head, as if to clear the confusion from it by physical action. "Okay, I'm feeling a little less inclined to berate you, Harry. Though using the Cruciatus Curse to torture the heir to the throne into a catatonia won't end well."

"Hermione…remember how Malfoy used to be, before what was supposed to be our seventh year? Before he got a clue? Zorzal was even worse. He intended to force Tyuule to surrender to become his fucktoy, and then go back on his word by slaughtering and enslaving these people instead of sparing them. And he would have told them that their queen would have sold them out to save her own hide. So I just did to him what the Lestranges did to the Longbottoms…only he deserved it. If I killed him, there definitely would have been reprisals."

"And how are you going to protect these people?"

"The Fidelius. I can make Tyuule or one of her lieutenants the Secret Keeper. It'd be a chore telling her people the secret, but if it helps…"

"Okay, so you did think of that," Hermione said.

"The Bunny Warriors are nomadic to a degree," Rory said. "Settlements like these aren't always where they live. Still, concealing this settlement should help. I guess Hermione was right about your 'saving people thing', Harry."

"And that reminds me," Harry said, looking at Rory. "You claim to be an Apostle or something for a god."

"I don't claim to be an Apostle. I am. Speaking of gods…" Her face became rather solemn. "You have some artifacts I'm curious about. May I?"

On Harry's look, Luna said, "She means the Hallows. Apparently the local death god, Hardy, created them and gave them to the Peverells back home."

Harry gingerly fished them out from his Mokeskin pouch, and made to hand them to Rory, who recoiled. "No! No, I don't want to touch them. I'm just…curious."

"Hardy has…a rather extreme fixation on Rory," Hermione said.

"Yes. She's apparently a misandrist lesbian who has a thing for Rory," Luna said.

"…So is she a paedophile or something?" Harry asked flatly as he put the Hallows away.

"Whatever she is, I don't want her anywhere near me," Rory said with a shiver. "The chthonic realms are her demesne." On Harry's look, she clarified, "Underground."

"…She doesn't know how to take no for an answer, does she?" Harry snarked. He looked at Rory, and gently hugged her with an arm around her shoulder. "Hey, if I can help it, I won't let her anywhere near you."

Rory stiffened briefly with the arm around her shoulder, before she relaxed. "You really mean that, don't you? Even though I'm far stronger and more durable than you. You'd fight Hardy for me?"

"…Maybe. Depends on what you're like."

Hermione shot him a look. "She's a bloodthirsty, psychotic killer who is an agent of this world's god of war, darkness, and madness. But…she's been of a lot of help to us, and what's more…she has information we want. Harry…she knows where Sirius is."

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Dun dun DUNNN!**

 **Now, if Tyuule and Delilah do seem OOC, keep in mind that this is set about three years prior to the Gate opening in Japan. Tyuule hasn't gone through three years of being Zorzal's sex slave, and I tried to give Delilah a formal, elegant nature close to that when she was going on her assassination mission in the second half of the series. Because Tyuule didn't have to give herself up to Zorzal, their relationship will still be good.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	169. Our Hearts are Stolen Goods V2 Chapter 1

**So, I thought about my _RWBY_ crossover _Our Hearts are Stolen Goods_ , and while I had managed to write a few decent chapters, I realised the story wasn't going the way I wanted it to. So, I took a break from it, had an idea how to start it afresh, and decided to go with that. I was partly inspired by a couple of fics where Jaune becomes a phantom thief (LaughingLeFou's _The Phantom Nevermore_ and its revised version, if you're interested). Harry, here, is basically not unlike a phantom thief in some regards, though as you will learn, he will have some of the ruthlessness of at least one famous anime thief, Lupin III.**

 **Anyway, whether this becomes a full fic or not is still up in the air, obviously. Still, there is a small announcement I'd like to make. I'm strongly considering doing a Potterverse crossover with one of the most infamous anime series of all time, and I'm curious as to which of you would read it. And what is this crossover?**

 ** _Elfen Lied_.**

 **Yes. I said _Elfen Lied_.**

* * *

 _ **OUR HEARTS ARE STOLEN GOODS (REVISED)**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **ICE CREAM HEADACHE**

Roman Torchwick was not the most pleasant of people. He was a liar, a thief and, while he didn't make it a habit (partly because it brought down unnecessary heat from the cops or Hunters, and partly because he loved wearing white coats, and knew how hard blood was to wash out), he was willing to kill if necessary. Lie, cheat, steal, survive, that was his motto. He didn't have friends, only allies. His family were dead, thanks to the Grimm, and the only other members were even more unpleasant than he was now. His prospects as a Huntsman were torpedoed when he beat a particularly obnoxious bully into a pulp. Apparently that idiot still needed a straw to eat.

However, he had one real light in his life. The only person he trusted completely and utterly. Hell, if he was actually capable of feeling love rather than lust, it would be towards Neopolitan, better known as Neo. Nothing like romantic love: she was too young, about sixteen (and it was hard to tell her age with her rather short stature). Instead, she was his little sister (even without blood ties) and enforcer. Adorable, sweet, obedient, and homicidal. Her Semblance was a thing of beauty, an overpowered thing, true, but he wasn't complaining. His enemies did, though. Quite vociferously. He remembered a White Fang member yelling something about 'hax' before she opened up his throat.

Of course, one of his pet peeves (and it was a fairly long list: it included Faunus in general and the White Fang in particular, Hunters, Grimm, police officers, incompetent underlings, sharing with anyone who's name wasn't Neo, taking orders, jail and banana peels) was competition. He despised any thieves with ambitions close to his level. He hated incompetent ones who brought down more heat from the law. He hated brilliant ones who got away with it not only for similar reasons, but also because Roman felt that there was room for only one stylish criminal mastermind in Vale.

So it was to nobody's surprise, least of all his own, that this newcomer on the thieving scene of Vale irritated Roman.

Not that this was all Roman felt, not that he would ever admit it, save, very grudgingly, to Neo. Reluctantly, he did have some admiration for the newcomer, if only for the guy's audacity and skill. And if truth be told, the newcomer's activities actually distracted away from Roman's own activities: apparently the man had embarrassed Jacques Schnee on one of the few times that the Dust magnate had deigned to visit Vale by turning him into a statue (well, he had been petrified, and he didn't come out of it for hours) amongst the now stolen works of art he was exhibiting at a local gallery. Then again, rumour had it that Schnee had bought stolen goods anyway, or from Faunus he had bankrupted. Apparently said paintings had been returned to their original owners for the most part, though Schnee's wallet, and a fuckton of Lien cards he had with them, had been taken.

And what was more, he gave himself a ridiculously ostentatious name. Hermes. He called himself the God of Thieves and Speed.

He was certainly fast, capable of some sort of teleportation, not unlike Neo's own ability. A Semblance of some sort? And yet, he was also noted for knocking guards and anyone in his way out instantly. In the few months he had been here, Hermes was making one hell of a splash.

What was more, the few items he stole that ended up with fences, the fences would have memory problems. Not the sort of memory problems that were paid for, but rather, blank patches of memory. Again, a possible Semblance, but how did that equate with the teleportation ability? True, Neo's Semblance, on top of teleportation, allowed her to create illusions of herself or others, though her ability to reshape her appearance…ah, now that was another gift entirely.

Still, in the interests of ensuring that he knew as much as possible about Hermes (know thy enemy and all that), he had Neo help him with compiling a dossier. One of the things they were looking for were newcomers to Vale in the past few months and a little further back. As a hobby, a sideline to their usual work. Roman wasn't sure what he'd do if he ever found out who Hermes was. Blackmail might not go so well, especially as there was so little he knew about Hermes' Semblance. Maybe he could offer Hermes employment? That seemed more likely.

Roman liked to keep his organisation small. Indeed, unless he needed to do a big robbery (for which he'd generally rock on up to Junior and ask for some of his henchmen for hire), it was just him and Neo. Roman was the brains, at least where planning was concerned. Neo was the muscle, despite her petite frame. She could outfight most Hunters from Beacon, and had been able to for a few years now. Plus, he valued her input when planning. Still, having another OP thief on side might be interesting.

As he sat in his office in the warehouse they were using as a HQ, Roman heard his Scroll chirrup. He opened up the text message from Neo, and peered at it.

 ** _IScream4IceCream_** _: I think I've found him_.

Roman frowned, peering at the screen, and typed in a reply.

 ** _BartitsuBitchslap(_** ** _1)_** _: Are you sure?_

 ** _IScream4IceCream_** _: Well, of course I can't be sure. :P Buuut, I think that, even if he isn't our man, he's certainly a person of interest. You see, this guy is pretty damn famous where I come from_.

Roman frowned. Now, that was something only he knew about Neo. Neopolitan actually wasn't her birth name, just the name she had assumed when they first met. He had eventually learned about her past, a rather painful past. Although she at least didn't expect Roman to feel sympathetic to her sob story: such stories were a Lien a dozen on Remnant. But the one thing that separated her sob story from all others was a simple, if very hard to believe fact.

Neo was not born on Remnant.

 ** _BartitsuBitchslap_** _: Okay…so, what is that meant to mean? You mean amongst the inbred retarded hicks that you grew up amongst, or are we talking the more general type of celebrity, into sex, drugs, and appalling plastic surgery that makes you look like a Grimm skull is trying to burst forth from beneath your skin?_

He knew that had set her off laughing (insomuch as she could laugh when she didn't have a voice, anyway), as the reply took a very long time to come back.

 ** _IScream4IceCream_** _: Ow, my lungs. Don't make me laugh so hard. I dropped my Scroll. Anyway, the former_.

Well, that was interesting. That might explain where some of the abilities came from. Roman actually smiled at that.

 ** _BartitsuBitchslap_** _: Oh, really? So, do you think we have an in?_

 ** _IScream4IceCream_** _: Maybe. I thought he was meant to be a goody two-shoes, but, well…if he is Hermes, maybe he has just a touch of kleptomania. Actually, he's quite cute. ;3_

 ** _BartitsuBitchslap_** _: *rolls eyes* Just remember, try not to spook him._

 ** _IScream4IceCream_** _: Right. It's just like that stray cat I brought home._

 ** _BartitsuBitchslap_** _:_ _One_ _, he is not your pet._ _Two_ _, I am not paying for any medical or veterinarian bills this time._

 ** _IScream4IceCream_** _: That's okay, he's not a retired soldier anyway. And if I recall, you were the one who left that box of Fire Dust open. So that cat-astrophe was your fault!_

Roman winced at the bad pun. He knew Neo actually missed that damned cat, and used the humour to cope. Still…

 ** _BartitsuBitchslap_** _: That pun_ _ **physically**_ _hurt me._

 ** _IScream4IceCream_** _: You mad(_ _2)_ _?_

 ** _BartitsuBitchslap_** _: More irritated than anything else. So…what to do about our friend?_

 ** _IScream4IceCream_** _: Ah, now that's the thing. I'm currently in a booth at Junior's. The heavy bass of this doof-doof music is gradually turning my brain into mush and my ear bones into powder, but I digress. Our quarry is currently having a drink. Despite him being my age. Hmm, he has a nice arse, I can see that from here._

 ** _BartitsuBitchslap_** _: Should I be worried for your virtue?_

 ** _IScream4IceCream_** _: ROFLMAO! Virtue? What's that? Is that Spruce Willis' new cologne line?_

 ** _BartitsuBitchslap_** _: Okay, poor choice of words. I meant your_ _ **chastity**_ _. Not to mention that I'm too young to be an uncle, and you're definitely too young to be a mother._

 ** _IScream4IceCream_** _: I don't go for one-night stands. I prefer umbrella stands. Anyway, you want me to approach him?_

 ** _BartitsuBitchslap_** _: Carefully. Don't let on that you suspect him of being Hermes. And for Oum's sake, avoid causing a scene, especially in front of Junior. If he suspects anything…well, you know he sells info to the highest bidder._

 ** _IScream4IceCream_** _: I am the very picture of discretion. :P_

* * *

With that, Neo closed the messenger app, and then got up from her seat, before strutting over to her target, whistling softly to herself. As she did so, she thought back to her family, her home. A home that she escaped by happy accident.

True, life on the streets on Vale was tough, and she had nearly ended up the fucktoy of the Boss, Junior's rather depraved uncle and predecessor in running this particular crime gang. But Neo gutted that child molester like a fish, using one of the Boss' own blades. Roman, then a small-time crook who had been paying the Boss protection, had stumbled across them when he was due to meet the Boss…and had promptly and calmly told her to carry on. From then on, they were inseparable.

Lie. Cheat. Steal. Survive. The watchwords of Roman Torchwick and his pint-sized partner-in-crime. They were effectively siblings as much as they were colleagues. They only truly trusted each other, and nobody else.

Still…this looked like an intriguing opportunity. Hermes was already one of the most infamous thieves in Vale, almost eclipsing Roman, which could be a good thing, or a bad thing. True, Roman preferred to fly under the radar, to try and avoid unnecessary entanglements with the law, but having a flashy distraction might help in some cases.

Neo scowled to herself as she watched the Malachite twins try to put the moves on her target. Melanie and Militia. Many thought them Junior's pet tarts, but while that was somewhat true, most thought that the Malachites were Junior's lovers. Actually, they were the daughters of one of his former comrades, a friend murdered by the Boss, and they had grown to become his pet enforcers, at least within his club. They were also his honorary nieces, and he didn't go for them quite that young anyway. He'd sometimes pretend to, true, but he didn't sink to the depths his uncle did. Plus, it was the Malachites who'd managed to tell Neo about the name of the patron who'd caught her eye, a patron who resembled descriptions of the one she thought he was.

Still tarts, though, and Neo preferred ice cream to tarts. No prizes for guessing what flavour.

As she strutted over, the Malachites saw her coming. She noted that her target hadn't fallen prey to their wiles. Oh, he was looking, he clearly liked what he saw, but he seemed content to just look. Fair enough, if she swung that way, she'd tap that too, and _hard_. But she didn't. So she gestured at the Malachites to bugger off and leave the target to her. The twins left with a little bad grace, but leave they did.

Neo then planted her derriere on the seat next to her target, and gestured at the bartender. He was an old hand, and he knew what she liked. She made a few gestures that he knew meant, ' _get me my usual, and I'll pay for this guy_ '. To emphasize the point, she plucked out a Lien card and slid it over.

The target glanced at her briefly. Again, he seemed interested, but didn't do more than glance. "And who are you?" he asked curiously.

The bartender chuckled as he slid Neo a drink. "She doesn't talk, kid. She can't talk. Her name's Neopolitan. Yeah, like the ice cream."

The target turned to face her, looking her up and down. "Huh. Suits you."

She looked him up and down too. Scrawny, rather short for his age, like her, she was sure. A messy mop of black hair framed handsome but pain-filled features. Emerald eyes peered at her from behind glasses.

And there, from beneath his fringe, snaked a lightning bolt scar.

Her mismatched eyes, chocolate brown and strawberry pink, met his own emerald ones. And then, she felt a familiar pressure, an almost forgotten one, behind her eyes. _Shit, he knows Legilimency?!_ were her initial panicking thoughts. She hadn't practised Occlumency for ages, so she was pretty rusty.

She half-expected him to attack. Instead, after a moment, he gave a rather tired smile, and held out his hand. "Please to meet you, Neo," he said. "I'm Harry Potter. But…I'm sure you knew that already…"

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Well, this is a turn-up for the books. Harry's ended up in Remnant, and he's met Neo. Oh, and he's a phantom thief. Sort of.**

 **I chose Hermes as his name, partly because his ability makes it appear that he's very fast, and partly because Hermes was a patron deity of thieves.**

 **1\. Bartitsu is a form of martial art created by English engineer Edward Barton-Wright that, amongst other things, involves walking sticks. It's fairly famous, albeit as the differently spelled 'Baritsu', in the Sherlock Holmes stories. On Wikipedia's article for Bartitsu, Roman Torchwick is mentioned as using this.**

 **2\. Roman's comment and Neo's reply are similar to Lancelot and Diarmuid's exchange in episode two of** ** _Fate/Cero_** **, an Abridged Series of** ** _Fate/Zero_** **.**


	170. Our Hearts are Stolen Goods V2 Chapter 2

**Well, here's the second chapter of the revised _Our Hearts are Stolen Goods_. Also, I still want to hear opinions on my potentially doing an _Elfen Lied_ crossover, in case you missed the announcement in the previous chapter. I'm considering how best to do it at this point in time.**

* * *

 _ **OUR HEARTS ARE STOLEN GOODS (REVISED)**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **THIEVES LIKE US**

Harry had had a talent for stealing things, from a young age. It had been partly necessity, given what the Dursleys did to him. Even before he learned he was a wizard, he learned that he had the ability to open up a private little space that he would later call his Bag of Holding. And that was before he learned of another ability he had. Under duress, he could halt time. Later, he could do it at will. True, he could only halt time for limited periods, and the concentration needed limited its use in combat, but it proved rather more useful for his thieving endeavours.

And then, Hogwarts, and for a time, Harry thought that everything would be all right, everything would turn out fine. His fame was irritating, true, but it was kind of exhilarating to know he was a celebrity there…until he realised that he was famous for surviving when his parents did not. His first year had gone from good to bad, especially when he got the detention for helping Hagrid with that damned dragon, and he got more points taken off him than Malfoy. And after McGonagall refused to listen to him and his friends about the Philosopher's Stone…well, Harry decided then and there that he'd had enough.

He claimed that the Stone had been destroyed during the battle with Quirrelmort, when in reality, it was stored in his Bag of Holding. Something that could give eternal life AND gold? Yeah, he wasn't going to let **_that_** one go by.

Over the next few years, he began stealing from the Malfoys and other unpleasant Pureblood families. He'd donated some of his ill-gotten gains discreetly to the Weasleys, as well as their neighbours, the Lovegoods. He'd even managed to, albeit with difficulty, break into the lower security vaults of Gringotts, and even that had pissed off the Goblins.

And then, his Fourth Year. When everything went to shit. Harry had pulled out all the stops during the battle in the graveyard, using his ability to halt time to not only dodge spells, but to surround his enemies in clouds of spells during the time freeze that would be impossible to dodge. He had to fight down an odd urge to scream " _Muda muda muda MUDA!_ ", for some strange reason(1). The net result was, most of the Death Eaters died. And Voldemort's brand new body was reduced to mince by a small cloud of Reductos.

Unfortunately, he didn't know it, but Barty Crouch Junior, disguised as Moody, had witnessed his ability during his time at Hogwarts, and had apparently let things slip to Ludo Bagman. The reason was simple: Barty wanted to have Harry suffer, as well as be in a position to be ready to be killed by his lord and master.

Bagman, after everything went south after the Tri-Wizard Tournament, had been cornered by the Goblins, and Bagman, desperate to get his debt with the Goblins annulled, reported Harry as the thief they had been looking for. Harry was exposed, and the Goblins promptly dragged him to a dungeon under Gringotts before he could escape, magic-suppressing cuffs on him. And given how many Purebloods Harry had stolen from over the years, not to mention those he killed in the graveyard (never mind that they were _Death Eaters!_ ), most of Magical Britain turned on him in an instant. The surviving Death Eaters made sure of that.

They tried torturing him to find out where the money and valuables were. He didn't give them the information. Then, a disaster. Sirius was caught trying to rescue Harry, and was given the Kiss. Bill Weasley was allowed in to see him, but only for a short time, as the Goblins intended to fire him. Apparently Ginny had been murdered in Diagon Alley along with Molly, and Arthur was intending to take the Weasleys to Romania. Hermione was too, heading to Australia.

They had tried to get Dumbledore to release Harry, but Dumbledore just said that it was impossible, and in any case, this was the consequences of Harry's kleptomania, as well as murdering so many misguided Purebloods who could have been redeemed. Bill sent the apologies of his friends, and Harry accepted that, resignedly. He had used the Legilimency he had developed shortly after imprisonment to tell he was telling the truth.

Then, Dumbledore himself came to visit Harry. He stated, bluntly, that Harry would not be freed any time soon, that he was so disappointed in Harry for turning down a dark path. Harry had retorted that the Dursleys had mistreated him, and from there, it devolved into an argument that left Harry shaken. He had caught a glimpse of what lay beneath Dumbledore's mask, none of it good. He knew then and there that Dumbledore actually wanted him to die.

Months had passed, though they seemed like eons, and eventually, the Goblins demanded that Harry be taken to the Veil and cast through it, and the Ministry agreed too readily. He expected to die. After all, the Goblins gloated that it was a form of execution. Apparently some old families chucked their Squibs through the Veil after greasing the palms of the Unspeakables. And yet, he ended up waking up in an alley in this place…not even on Earth anymore.

The shattered moon hanging in the sky was a big clue, after all.

But it was a new beginning, he realised. He may not have known much about this world, but he had the time freeze, his valuables (well, the relieved valuables of the Death Eaters) in his Bag of Holding, and Legilimency. And it was, well, frankly rather freeing. He had no expectations here, save for what he could make himself.

And then, an impish idea occurred to him. To steal loudly, for the thrill, to pull off the impossible. He remembered a few mangas he had spotted in the local library at Little Whinging. Stuff like _Lupin III, DNAngel_ , and the like. He wanted to be loud and audacious.

And he remembered something Hermione told him. In a way, his chosen name was a tribute to her. Her parents had chosen that name because they were fans of Shakespeare, but the name itself came from Greek myth, the daughter of King Menelaus and Helen of Troy, and was derived from the name of the Greek god Hermes.

Of course, he wasn't doing things blind. Thanks to Legilimency, he knew a number of interesting facts about this world, Remnant. To whit…

First point of order: this world was debatably more dangerous than Earth. It was infested with monsters that attacked humans and Faunus, soulless things called the creatures of Grimm. The Grimm were attracted to civilisation and negative emotion.

Second point of order: academies existed across the world to train Hunters, specially trained people who were sent on missions to kill the Grimm, as well as occasionally the worst of criminals. Hunters used weapons that were basically combinations of melee weapons and ranged weapons to kill Grimm. They were also trained in the use of Aura, an extrusion of one's soul, for defence, as well as Semblances, unique abilities to those who awakened their Auras. Vale had its own Academy, Beacon, run by Professor Ozpin. So, basically Hogwarts for monster killers. He hoped Ozpin wasn't a manipulative old bastard, though he thought he heard a sneeze in the distance when he thought that.

Third point of order: the Faunus, and the White Fang. Faunus were basically people with animal-like features, like ears or tails. Far too many humans treated them with contempt. The White Fang, until about five years ago, had been a protest organisation that ran picket lines and rallies. However, when its original leader Ghira Belladonna stepped down, its new leader, Sienna Khan, began using the White Fang to incite violence, going so far as to cause terrorist attacks.

Fourth point of order: Dust. Dust was a substance that had elemental power within it, and was used in weaponry, electronics, vehicle engines, etc. Basically magic crystallised. Very valuable too.

Fifth point of order: magic only existed in fairytales, or more to the point, mages were very rare. The only known mages were the Four Maidens, who were supposedly granted power by an ancient wizard. Neo, as he discovered when he read her mind later, considered it her favourite fairytale from this world, as it was basically about a quartet of girls who bothered an old man until he gave them powers as a bribe to go away(2). So Harry had to be careful whom he revealed his magic to. Or else claim his magic was his Semblance.

Sixth point of order: almost every weapon on Remnant was also a gun. He didn't have one to call his own just yet, though he had stolen a few.

He had gone to Junior's club to relax, though the heavy bass of the music didn't help. He was here more because once, he happened to run into the Malachite twins when they were cornered (or so he thought) by a trio of thugs in the nearby street, one of whom, to his confusion, seemed to have wolf-like ears. He had intervened, using a wandless Expelliarmus to disarm them. He soon realised that, even if they dressed somewhat daringly for their age, Melanie and Militia were far from harmless, as they promptly dealt with the thugs. However, they were touched a little by his chivalry, and had decided to bring him to Junior's club.

So, he was welcome for drinks here whenever he wanted, despite being underage. He usually stuck to the non-alcoholic stuff. Plus, the Malachites were good to talk to, even if conversations were hard to hold with the loud dance music. They even helped him get a good Scroll. They still flirted with him, but out of cheekiness.

Still, the sadness of being away from Magical Britain, or at least his friends, still ate at him. It was part of the reason he stole as Hermes, why he put on a show. It was partly to cheer himself up, to get that vicarious thrill going. In a way, he stole to try and make himself happy. Not that it always worked.

He also sometimes drank to try and unsuccessfully drown the sadness. Tonight looked to be one of those nights, though for now, he was sticking with soft drink. "Why so glum, Harry?" Melanie asked.

"You're supposed to have a fun time in this club," Militia opined.

"Sorry, I'm just…moping. Thinking about the people I lost to the Grimm," Harry said. That was his cover story, that his village had been slaughtered by the Grimm.

"Don't be like that. Anyway, it seems you've garnered some interest," Melanie said, gesturing behind her. "Someone wants to meet you."

"I want to drink alone."

"Try telling that to her. She's like a cat, going where she wants," Militia remarked. "Oh look, here she comes."

Harry didn't really look, even as she sat down, shortly after the Malachites said their farewells and walked away. "And who are you?" he asked after glancing at her briefly, curious, despite himself.

The bartender scoffed. "She doesn't talk, kid. She can't talk. Her name's Neopolitan. Yeah, like the ice cream."

Neopolitan…Harry found himself looking at her with more interest. He knew that name. The Malachites had told him about Roman Torchwick and his enforcer. Neopolitan, better known as Neo. He looked at her more carefully.

She was a short, slender girl, one who carried herself with a mixture of childishness and yet assuredness that made her seem older. She was dressed in a brown corset-like top, a white coat over it, and black trousers, coupled with a parasol. Her features were quite pretty…and familiar looking. Not the brown and pink hair (the pink hair having white streaks in it), or the mismatched eyes, one brown, the other pink…but the shape of the face.

"Huh. Suits you," Harry said, though he noted recognition in her eyes…especially when her gaze lingered in a familiar way on his scar. Then, he panicked. She knew him, she knew him, she knew him!

He used Legilimency on her, meeting her gaze. And he saw **_her_**. He saw her past.

He had guessed who her mother was correctly. She had been taken from her mother when she was sent to Azkaban, and placed with her nearest living relatives in the Black family. With a horrendous woman called Walburga. And there, she learned that she was a Squib.

She was treated like scum. She retaliated by stealing. And she was caught, beaten…and then, sent to the Department of Mysteries. Some Unspeakables were bribed to have her thrown through the Veil. And then, like him, she ended up here.

He saw her life. He saw what she did here. Had it been him a few years before, he might have revolted at what she did. But instead, he knew how she felt. That theft for her was a way of getting thrills, hitting back at an apathetic society. True, she was more bloodthirsty than he was…but just about every one she killed were criminals, so far.

They were more alike than he realised.

He could feel her panic. He knew she knew who he was. So he withdrew, seeing her eyes turn white with shock. And after a moment, smiled. "Please to meet you, Neo," he said. "I'm Harry Potter. But…I'm sure you knew that already…"

And she would, wouldn't she? Given that her real name was Hydra Delphini _Lestrange_ …

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, a bit of a perspective flip.**

 **1\. Harry using his spells during the time stop is reminiscent of Dio's knife-based attack while using The World in** ** _JoJo's Bizarre Adventure_** **. And, of course, "MUDA!" is Dio's infamous attack cry (well, along with "WRRRRYYYY!"), which is Japanese for 'useless' or 'futile'.**

 **2\. This was Neo's snarky comment on said tale in RumbleintheDumbles'** ** _The Domino Effect_** **, the sequel to the hilarious** ** _A Change of Heart_** **. Both stories informed how I characterised Neo in this story, and others.**


	171. Children of the Revolution Chapter 1

**So, yesterday, I said I was going to do an _Elfen Lied_ crossover, didn't I? Bet you didn't expect me to knock the first chapter out so quickly, huh?**

 **I eventually decided, after some thought, to do a WBWL fic. Now, hear me out. I know a few of you are sick of me doing these, but there were a few reasons for that...**

 **1\. The story I originally intended had a lot of Dumbledore-bashing, and I decided that I didn't really want to write an evil Dumbledore this time around.**

 **2\. Just about every crossover with a few exceptions is either Harry born as a Diclonius and going to Hogwarts from the get-go, or Harry ending up at the same orphanage as Lucy/Kaede. And while I did consider doing a story during or at the end of Year 5, that, again, had already been done, despite it being a very brief crossover.**

 **3\. I decided, for once, to only bash James and Sirius very lightly this time around: James' greatest sin in this story was basically disowning Harry and divorcing Lily rather acrimoniously. He's not a bad person, he's just a bigot.**

 **4\. I was considering transplanting only a few of the _Elfen Lied_ characters to the Potterverse (Lucy/Kaede, Nana and Bandoh), but, well, given the horrible stuff a lot of the characters went through in _Elfen Lied_ canon, I decided that I wanted to give them a better life.**

 **Now, this isn't to say that everything is sunshine and rainbows. It may seem that way in comparison to canon _Elfen Lied_ , but it's still a fairly dark and cynical place, only better than canon.**

 **I actually took a leaf from sakurademonalchemist's own Potterverse/ _Elfen Lied_ story, _Alpha Queen_ , which, sadly, hasn't gone beyond eight chapters as of writing. But her theory of the Diclonius virus only affecting magicals and particularly Muggleborns is something I used for this story, partly to soften the tone a little, but also to add a new angle.**

 **Also, I intend to try and name the chapters after Beatles songs. Why? Well, I vaguely recall that Lucy was named for the Australopithecine skeleton...and what was that skeleton named for? _Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds_ , of course.**

* * *

 _ **CHILDREN OF THE REVOLUTION**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **A DAY IN THE LIFE**

Kamakura. Once, it had been the capital of Japan, centuries ago. Now, it was a small coastal city, home to many sites of religious and historical importance, not to mention a number of annual festivals.

But secretly, it was a place of considerable importance. It was a place where the future of the human race was being decided on a daily basis. It was a place perpetually on the knife edge of utter chaos and violence.

There were two places of considerable importance to this matter around Kamakura. The first was on an island off the coast of Kamakura, once intended to be a chamber of horrors and inhumanity, but was now more of a place of hope. The second, in the Maple Inn, a former restaurant turned boarding house, a refuge of sorts.

A peace, a calm of sorts had descended on both places, insomuch as they could, given the circumstances. But peace is an ephemeral condition, a metastable state that needs only a light push to topple…

* * *

The facility originally did not have a name. Oh, it had a designation listed under the Japanese Ministry of Health, but it was so top secret, it didn't have a name. The construction seemed to be a hybrid of hospital, heavy duty biohazard laboratory, and nuclear shelter. It was like something out of fiction, like the creation of some overfunded corporate conspiracy creating bioweapons.

True, a conspiracy was involved in its creation, and the original director of the facility, Kakuzawa, was indeed involved in creating bioweapons, albeit of a specific sort. Thankfully, he and his deranged brood were now dead, and the facility had changed in purpose, becoming part research lab and part school. It had even gained a name, well, more than one. Officially, it was known as the Diclonius Research and Education Facility.

Many of its employees and students called it the Cuckoos' Nest.

Director Lily Kurama certainly thought it apt at the moment. She was pinching the bridge of her nose as she listened to the argument going on. Apparently Saito and Shirakawa were bickering about who would get priority on the upcoming paper they intended to publish on Vector detection and measurement, while Arakawa looked like she just wanted to get on with her research. Her husband Dr Masashi Kurama(1) looked like he needed more coffee.

Eventually, Lily just snapped, "Okay, enough. Saito, you can put your name first. Merlin, it's like dealing with schoolchildren." As Shirakawa scowled, Lily continued, looking down at her notes, "Now, to less scientific matters, I've had to repair the wall in Lab 3 again. Little Mariko got a little too playful with those chemicals, and there was a dent the size of a cannonball in the wall, not to mention we got a test of how effective the sprinkler system is. She loves to test boundaries. And I've already talked to her, Masashi. Still, we need to keep her on the wand exclusion list for now."

Dr Kurama nodded, shuddering inwardly at the thought of his oldest daughter having wands. The chaos she would cause. Still, better property damage than, well, injuries and death. "What about Mahoutokoro?" he asked.

"The School Board has rejected schooling Diclonii on-campus again," Lily said with a sigh. "A lot of influential families have put pressure on them to keep them out after the expulsion of my children, and even with them gaining their qualifications, there's still a lot of fear and resentment. However, Headmaster Tohsaka assures me that Professor Matou will be able to continue doing his duties as an on-site tutor here(2)."

"I guess it's as close to a compromise as we're ever going to get with the damned wizards," Kurama muttered. "It took ages for the Ministry here to classify them as people rather than _youkai_. And even then, I still hear some people calling this a den of _oni_. Or worse, _akuma_."

"Prejudice and xenophobia will never go away, Masashi," Lily said, smiling tiredly at her husband. "We're working to mitigate the impact the Diclonii have on humanity and vice versa. And clearing up misconceptions is part of it."

She would have said more, but the door opened, revealing a pair of figures. One was a young Japanese woman with glasses and a ditzy demeanour, holding a tray with mugs on them. The other was a girl, apparently in her early teens, with short hair a shade of pink, along with her eyes, with a pair of what looked like horns in the shape of cat ears protruding from her temple. "Thanks, Nana," the woman said to the girl, the mugs wobbling a little.

The girl nodded. "You're welcome, Miss Kisaragi! Nana's always happy to help." With that, the tray gently lifted itself from Kisaragi's hands, and placed itself on the table, before the mugs seemingly lifted off the tray by themselves and floated across the room, placing themselves in front of their recipients, with nary a drop spilled.

"I still can't get over that," Shirakawa said as she blew on her own coffee. "Vectors being used to serve up coffee and tea. Maybe you should be a barista, Nana."

"Umm, Nana wants to be an Auror, actually. I want to go and catch the bad guys with my Vectors!" Nana said.

Lily chuckled softly. Part of it was genuine amusement at Nana's enthusiasm and energy. And part of it was sad and bitter cynicism, knowing that the odds of Nana achieving her dream were slim, due to prejudice.

Nana was a Diclonius, an offshoot subspecies of _Homo sapiens_ with powers many would consider unnatural. Well, so would wizards and witches, but Diclonii were even more different to humans than wizards or witches were. Leaving aside the powers, most Diclonii had hair and eyes with distinct shades of red and pink. What's more, they had horns protruding from the sides of their heads, at the temples, along with an enlarged pineal gland. Not to mention an increased aggressive instinct, though that could be mitigated. They could move and even damage things from afar using 'Vectors', a psychokinetic projection of will that could take the form of ghostly hands on arms.

There were two types of Diclonius. Nana belonged to the subtype known as a 'Silpelit', a term derived from the _Elfenlied_ or _Fairy Song_ by Eduard Mörike(3). The best analogy for a Silpelit was like a worker or soldier ant in a hive, and almost invariably female. Despite appearing to be in her early teens, Nana was actually only six years old. She was also sterile, though Lily was working to correct that with treatment. Silpelits made up the vast majority of Diclonii, being those born to magicals or Muggles with enough magical potential infected by a certain virus. Or, when certain dormant genes awoke.

Lily didn't know it, but she had Diclonius genes in her distant ancestry. And sometimes, with the right mutations, said genes could become active again. It explained how her first child was a Diclonius King, and her second child was just a wizard. Not that it didn't stop James from accusing her of cuckolding him when he saw the horns on their first son. She had snidely retorted that it was the husband who had to wear the cuckold's horns, not the child. And inheritance tests didn't lie. Unfortunately, that had spelled the beginning of the end of their marriage, something that ended completely after that fateful Halloween back in '91, now 13 years ago, when her second child had been declared the Boy Who Lived.

A Diclonius King or Queen grew normally, and was not sterile. To their knowledge, only two such Diclonii currently existed, and both of them were her children. One by birth, and the other by adoption. Which made it all the more awkward when they began, well, falling for each other. Still, better a relationship that was only incestuous on paper than one that was incestuous in fact as well.

"Do we have any further business?" Lily asked the others. Upon seeing the various headshakes, she then said, "All right. It looks like it's time to caffeinate. Now, remember, Bandoh's started the initiation of the newest recruits to the Special Security Squad this morning. If you see armed personnel you don't recognise, that is why."

"Scaring the…faecal matter," Arakawa changed her sentence at the last moment, "out of the newbies, no doubt? Let me guess, your kids are down there too?"

"Nana saw Big Brother and Big Sister down there with Mean Mr Bandoh!" Nana chirped. If there was ever a Diclonius who went wholly against the norm for them, it was Nana. Her name was something of a bad joke: she was the seventh abandoned Silpelit brought here, and was initially given the appellation Subject Seven. In Japanese, the word for seven was 'nana', and it was also a fairly common girl's name. But she was so cheerful and joyful and playful and gentle, the violent instincts common to virtually all Diclonius almost entirely absent in her.

"Probably there to give a lesson," Lily said. "By the way, Kisaragi, was there any mail for me?"

The rather absent-minded and clumsy secretary blinked behind her glasses, before she thumped her fist into her hand. "Ah, yes! I left it in your office this time, Lily. There was also that newspaper, the Japanese magical one! Actually, I think your son was in the headlines. Something to do with a fiery cup, and a tournament."

Lily turned her gaze to the ditzy woman, and said, in a flat, dangerous tone that scared even Diclonii, " _What._ "

* * *

"He's enjoying this too much," a boy, or a young man, of about eighteen remarked to a girl of the same age standing next to him as they watched a thuggish-looking man with tanned skin and close-cropped hair lectured (well, verbally abused) a dozen or so men.

The girl scoffed. She had shoulder-length bright pink hair, and crimson eyes. Her beautiful features were frequently marred by a habitual scowl, though a sardonic smirk was touching her lips. "We enjoy putting fear into these guys too. Don't deny it, Harry."

The young man chuckled. His hair was a messy thatch that was mahogany coloured, his eyes emerald, with flecks of pink visible when one got close. Both had horns that vaguely looked like cat ears, or perhaps like the shells of some sort of marine creature, protruding from the temples of their heads. "True. I just think Bandoh enjoys it way too much, Lucy. I mean, does he think he's R Lee Ermey or something?"

Lucy, whose official name was Kaede Lucille Evans, chuckled in her turn. Then, they paid attention when Bandoh pointed to them. "Now, listen up, maggots! This is your enemy! Now, no doubt you've heard the stories about horned children, like _oni_ out of some fairytale, acting like they're out of _Akira_ or the X-Men or some shit like that! Maybe you've heard horror stories about families getting liquidised by scary psychic powers! Well, the reality is even worse than that. These two are Harry and Kaede Evans, though they like to be confusing and call Kaede 'Lucy'. You know, like the fucking Beatles song about drugs or that skeleton they dug up in Africa."

Harry waved cheerfully, giving a smile that showed perhaps too many teeth. Lucy just smirked maliciously, her fringe obscuring part of her face, but not her crimson eyes. Probably one of the few things they had in common with Bandoh was enjoying scaring the shit out of greenhorns joining the security forces of the Cuckoos' Nest.

"Now, take note of them. Other than the horns and their eyes and hair colour, they don't look that different from your average guy. But, and I say this without any fucking hyperbole whatsoever, that they are the deadliest people in this facility. These, then, are Diclonii. Now, you two, show them your magic tricks. Make those pencils you have disappear."

They were in a massive training hall, and a small group of ballistic dummies, made of ballistics gel, latex skin, and a skeleton substitute, were present. Harry and Lucy used their Vectors to remove the pencils they had in their pockets, before they threw them through the foreheads of the dummies. The backs of the heads of the dummies they targeted exploded in a gory spray.

"See that? If that doesn't scare you, then I dunno what will. And keep in mind, the skulls in those dummies are almost as tough as a human skull. See how the pencils rose by themselves? Those were Vectors in action. Now, I could go all technical and tell you how Vectors are psychokinetic projections, blah blah blah, but it's easier to think of them as invisible hands and arms. Hell, they even leave handprints. And while the number of Vectors and their ranges vary from Diclonius to Diclonius, they generally have a range of about two metres when they ain't throwing shit at you. And each Vector has basically three settings, vibrating at different frequencies, kinda like that thing your wife has hidden in her drawer(4)!"

A round of uneasy laughter filled the room. Then, Bandoh continued. "Setting one is basically being able to render the Vectors intangible. That means they can reach inside your body and shift shit around. I've seen Kaede there give someone a stroke by bursting a blood vessel inside the brain, and Harry there actually gave someone a lobotomy. Setting two is what you just saw: the Vectors become tangible, and are good at picking up shit and throwing it. They can pick up a car or a boat and throw it at you like a goddamned _kaiju_. And setting three?"

That was their cue. Harry and Lucy walked over to a fresh pair of ballistics gel dummies. Lucy swiftly severed the head and arms of the dummy, before bisecting it diagonally. Opting to ditch subtlety and grace entirely, Harry used his Vectors to rapidly mince the dummy, sending ballistics gel everywhere in a gooey splatter.

With perfect timing, Bandoh remarked, "Now, imagine that happening to one of you. Plus, another scary thing Vectors can do. Heads up you two!" And with that, he raised his MP5 and began firing at Harry and Lucy. After he fired the entire clip at them, he gestured at the bullets hanging in mid-air, and the others lying on the ground. "Unless you catch them by surprise, you'd need some pretty heavy duty firepower to get through their Vectors. We're talking high calibre rifle rounds here at the bare minimum. THAT is what you maggots are up against. Get that through your thick skulls, or you'll get a pencil through yours. Now, it's worth pointing out that going after Diclonii is not our sole duty. We'll have to be going after humans who have kidnapped Diclonii to use as weapons, not to mention wizards. You already had Lupin show you what he can do with his wand. Also, we're here to help guard the Diclonii from those who wish them harm. That may seem laughable, but the difference between us and them? We won't leave as much of a mess. Now, get to the VR training facility on the double! I want to see how much I have to train you maggots to get you to acceptable. And Sasaki(5), take a goddamned shower and change first! I can smell the shit in your pants from here!"

The group left. Bandoh lingered behind, sighing. "I've got my work cut out for me with that lot. We're getting the rejects who couldn't make the JSDF or my old outfit, or else are reservists. Like that idiot otaku Itami(6)."

"Itami's okay once he got over the fanboying," Harry said.

"He kept trying to touch my horns," Lucy grumbled. "He's lucky to keep his fingers. Annoying otaku."

"Heh. Well, I've got some greenhorns to beat into shape," Bando said. "Once I'm done, I want another spar with you two. I wanna get that blood pumping."

"Be careful what you wish for," Lucy said with a vicious grin. "They finally delivered that steamroller I wanted. I can go all Dio Brando on you(7)."

Bando laughed as he left the chamber, leaving the two Diclonii alone. "No, but seriously, I do want to use a steamroller on him," Lucy said.

"You and me both, Lucy. At least we have the excuses of a bloody annoying voice in our head. How did a sociopath like him get into the NPA's Special Assault Teams(8)?"

"One of the many great mysteries of the world, Harry," she said. And he felt her hand intertwine with his own. On instinct, he brought out one of his Vectors…and intertwined it with one she brought out. It was a familiar gesture to the two lovers. Hand-holding physically and psychically.

As they turned to look at each other, smiling, not the twisted smirks they often showed, but genuine happiness, the door slid open, and the staccato rap of angry heels on the floor interrupted the moment. "I'm sorry to interrupt, you two…but we have a problem," Lily Kurama, née Evans, formerly Lily Potter, said.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, turning to his mother, and when he saw the thunderous expression on her face, he knew he and Lucy would be demolishing the rest of the ballistics dummies here. And when Lily spoke next, he knew why.

"You have been entered as a fourth Champion of the Tri-Wizard Tournament."

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **And on that bombshell, goodnight!**

 **Okay, we'll be seeing more** ** _Elfen Lied_** **characters in the next chapter, particularly the Maple Inn residents, and we'll be hearing more about their past exploits, albeit as background to this story.**

 **1\. I chose Masashi as Kurama's first name as a reference to Masashi Kishimoto, the creator of** ** _Naruto_** **. After all, Kurama was the name of the** ** _Kyuubi_** **, albeit named for another character from** ** _Yu Yu Hakusho_** **.**

 **2\. In an abortive attempt at a crossover with** ** _Sekirei_** **(** ** _Green Girl and Her Wizard_** **, which can be found in** ** _The Cauldron_** **), I used modified Nasuverse characters as OC stand-ins. I decided to re-use that here.**

 **3\. There are actually two** ** _Elfenlieds_** **, but the one that inspired the manga and later anime was this one.**

 **4\. This is a variation on what Boomstick says in the recent** ** _Death Battle_** **episode pitting Carnage against Lucy. I couldn't resist adding it as Bandoh's bit of snark.**

 **5\. Named for Johnny Sasaki from the** ** _Metal Gear Solid_** **games, who has a rather troublesome bowel problem.**

 **6\. This character is based on Youji Itami, the main protagonist of** ** _GATE: Thus the JSDF Fought There_** **.**

 **7\. Dio Brando, one of the main antagonists of** ** _JoJo's Bizarre Adventure_** **, is of course infamous for using a steamroller to try and kill Jotaro Kujo, with either a scream of "ROAD ROLLER DA!" or, in the dub, "I'M GONNA ROLL ALL OVER YOU!"**

 **8\. The NPA, as** ** _Death Note_** **viewers would probably know, is the Japanese federal police agency. The SATs are basically SWAT teams.**


	172. Children of the Revolution Chapter 2

**Well, an interesting reaction to _Children of the Revolution_ so far. I'm also considering a couple of other possible Potterverse/ _Elfen Lied_ storylines, but for now, this is the frontrunner. I hope you enjoy...**

* * *

 _ **CHILDREN OF THE REVOLUTION**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **WE CAN WORK IT OUT**

The Maple Inn. A boarding house that presently housed an eclectic group of people. Three couples resided there, along with a variety of children, though in truth, one of the couples was rarely present, what with their work.

The main couple here were a pair of university students, Kohta Okamoto and his cousin, Yuka Maruyama(1). They had become acquainted years ago with what was, at the time, the Evans family during one of the festivals at Kamakura, and the Evans became friends, eventually, with the Okamotos. True, the horns on Harry and Lucy did cause some comment, and there were a few tricky moments, but thankfully, nothing disastrous. The worst they had to deal with was Yuka and Kanae's jealousy towards Lucy, who had grabbed Kohta's attention.

There had been more than a few trials and travails, but considering that Diclonii were involved, there were thankfully no deaths or blood involved. Well, except where a few rather nasty pieces of work were concerned, like the Kakuzawa family. Or the parents of one of the current residents of the Maple Inn, Mayu.

Mayu was a sweet, but timid girl in her early teens. The residents of the Maple Inn had stumbled across her in the streets, with a puppy in tow, and had learned the girl's rather grotesque story, a story that had led Harry and Lucy to pay a visit to the girl's stepfather and mother. While Lucy and Harry preferred to get visceral with any opponents they faced, what happened to Mayu had them get _creative_. The mother got off lightly when she was buried alive with only an air supply fed to the coffin. She died more quickly than the stepfather, and she took a week to die.

Mayu's puppy, Wanta, was a welcome addition to the household, as Lucy's own dog, Pochi(2), had died recently. He'd had a long and happy life, and Lucy knew that, had she not been adopted from that orphanage, Pochi ran the risk of being attacked by her tormentors. But the loss still hurt Lucy.

Nana also lived here when she wasn't at the Cuckoos' Nest, as did Lily and her husband, though the latter two tended to sleep over at the Cuckoos' Nest more often than not. The cheerful Silpelit was firm friends with Mayu, and indeed, was friends with virtually everyone in the Maple Inn. Nana was easy to like, and to be frank, Lucy was actually a little jealous at that.

So it was that, at noon, Harry, Lucy and Nana took their Portkey back to Maple Inn, specifically the front yard. Nana, as was her wont to do when she used a Portkey, staggered around. If this was a cartoon, her eyes would be swirly spirals. Harry and Lucy's expressions, though, were grim. They gently held onto Nana until her swaying stopped, though.

Yuka emerged from the door, and peered out, her short brown hair framing pretty features. "Oh, hello. We weren't expecting you back for lunch. Would you like me to rustle something up?"

"No, I'll prepare it myself," Harry said. "I need it to calm down."

Yuka, after a moment, nodded. "Something bad happen?" she asked.

"You could say that," Lucy scoffed. While she couldn't say that she and Yuka were friends, the two had something of a détente. Lucy personally thought that Yuka was a harpy with a hair-trigger jealousy button, and Yuka thought that Lucy was a homicidal maniac on a leash that barely restrained her. Harry and Kohta were frequently roped in to be mediators between the two. But the two could be expected to be civil, even nice (for a given value of nice, anyway) to each other.

"How many dummies?" Yuka asked resignedly.

"Two dozen. I did most of them," Harry said.

"Wow. That…that must've been something bad. I haven't seen you like this since Mayu told us about her parents," Yuka said. "Come on, you can tell us about it over lunch…"

* * *

Cooking was therapeutic to Harry, and he had learned to cook Japanese cuisine as well as that of his native England. Around the table, Kohta, Yuka, Mayu, Lucy and Nana were gathered. Harry used his Vectors expertly to place the plates of food around the table. "So, what happened?" Yuka asked.

"Someone, we don't know who, somehow entered my name into the Tri-Wizard Tournament," Harry said.

"Tri-Wizard Tournament?" Mayu asked. "What is that?"

"Mother told me that it's a competition between the three premiere magic schools of Europe," Lucy explained patiently to the timid girl, one of the few people she was willingly patient for. "Hogwarts of Britain, Beauxbatons of France, and Durmstrang of Scandinavia, though they take students from Eastern Europe. Viktor Krum, the star Seeker of the Bulgarian national Quidditch team, is in his last year at Durmstrang."

"And, according to the newspaper Mum was delivered, he's now Durmstrang's Champion in the Tri-Wizard Tournament," Harry said. "The Tournament was last held in 1792, and was actually banned because of the high death toll. Not just for the competitors either, as a Cockatrice broke free and injured the judges during the last one. So, naturally, some braindead moron called Ludo Bagman gets it into his tiny little concussed mind to revive it. Bagman was once a Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps, probably took one Bludger to the skull too many. Allegedly, it will be less dangerous than traditional Tri-Wizard Tournaments, but…"

"The point is, according to the newspaper, the Champions were selected by a magical artifact known as the Goblet of Fire," Lucy said. "If the Goblet selects your name, you're effectively under a geas, a magical contract, to participate in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, or lose your magic if you refuse to participate. And to a wizard, losing one's magic could be fatal. I don't know how someone managed to put Harry's name in, but heads are going to roll, quite literally."

"Lucy…" Kohta said in as placating a manner as the Japanese boy could muster. "I know you're upset that Harry has been placed in this thing against his will, but do you think violence will solve it? I mean, I know your go-to solution for a lot of things is overwhelming violence, but the repercussions…"

"Someone put Harry, the one I love most in this world aside from Mother, into a dangerous tournament or forfeit his magic and potentially his life." Lucy's crimson eyes met Kohta's. It wasn't a glare: Lucy held Kohta in considerable regard, calling him the best human she ever knew apart from Lily. But there was a rebuke in the gaze all the same. "That is a threat to his life. I do not know why or who, only that they will regret their folly."

"Well, that is the question, isn't it?" Yuka asked. "Who would want to kill Harry? Well, more to the point, who in _Britain_ would? From what Lily told me, her ex-husband's more apathetic and disdainful towards Harry than outright murderous. It'd make more sense to go after your brother, Harry, considering he's the Boy Who Lived."

"Allegedly," Harry said bitterly. "That was the time I first used my Vectors, to deflect the Killing Curse, I'm sure it was. And according to what Moony learned from the old goat, Voldemort's still alive. A shade, a wraith, but still alive. Not to mention that riot of Death Eaters at the Quidditch World Cup. If Lucy and I were there…"

"Yes, I'm sure it'd look like something out of _Hellsing_ after Alucard's done his thing," Kohta said, blanching.

"We don't drink blood," Lucy said, giving a very vicious smirk. She left the part about her all but bathing in it out. Mayu was still a little unused to Harry and Lucy's violent tendencies. "But you're right. What if this is an attempt at killing Harry by proxy by one of the Death Eaters who got off?"

Nana pouted. "These Death Eaters are mean. Nana doesn't like them."

Harry gently patted the Silpelit on the head with a Vector. She was his little sister figure. Hell, Mayu and Mariko were also part of the family, though Mariko…she was hard to deal with at times. The mischief of a child, mixed with the lethality of a Diclonius. She was much better than she could have been, true, but when you mixed petulant tantrums with Vectors, it wasn't a pretty sight.

Nana, on the other hand, was a sweet little thing, and had something not unlike an innocence that was endearing. You couldn't quite call it innocence, as she knew very well what she was capable of, what her big brother and big sister had done, what her father figure had very nearly agreed to do before Lily pulled him away from the brink. But Nana was, in Lucy's words, ' _an annoyingly cheerful optimist who is impossible to hate_ '. Nana and (albeit later) Mayu had become the glue that held the inhabitants of Maple Inn together.

"Well, if you're stuck in it now, might as well make the most of it," Kohta said. On their looks, he said, "Look, Harry, you and Lucy are pretty powerful. You can use Vectors and magic. Most Diclonii can. I don't think you have anything to worry about."

"Except what the wizards think," Lucy said. "They _barely_ tolerate our existence. Harry and I were expelled over helping a student land safely during broomstick practise using our Vectors. We even tried not to infect him, and we succeeded. But no, they don't care. No good deed goes unpunished. And the British are, by all accounts, as bad as the Japanese here. Imagine what'd happen if we had to face a Class XXXXX creature and had to use our Vectors to survive and kill said creature…how would they view us?" She tapped one of her horns knowingly. "And these would be seen as diabolical, no matter where we went."

"They look like cute cat ears," Mayu said.

"Maybe to you. But to some…well, in some parts of the world, they'd view us as devils," Lucy said. "Not without reason, too."

"Better the devil you know," Kohta remarked. "Besides…you have us. We care about you guys, even if you are Diclonii."

"Exactly," Yuka said. "We may have our differences and issues, but I care. People are stupid and prejudiced, and while you are violent and vicious…I know you well enough to know there's more to you than that, Lucy." A sardonic smirk touched her features. "Besides, wizards have a low IQ due to inbreeding. Science fact."

Lucy snorted, trying and failing to keep a smirk off her own lips. "Still…thank you, Yuka."

"Can you wear a hat indoors at Hogwarts?" Mayu asked.

"Maybe, to a degree, but the British have as many rules of etiquette as we do here in Japan, even if many are different," Lucy said.

"Maybe you could wear a headband like Nana!" Nana said.

"I don't want to hide what I am," Harry said. He reached up and touched his horns. "I am a Diclonius. If they take issue with that…then it's their funeral."

"Hopefully not literally," Kohta said.

"Apparently Mum's trying to get in touch with the old goat and find out what the hell happened. We'll probably be getting officials from the British Ministry of Magic coming around. If they do come around, we'll probably have to keep you out of the way. They have a bad habit of Obliviating Muggles, even those who are supposed to know about magic," Harry said. "The Purebloods may be effectively in charge here, but in Britain, it's apparently worse. At least here, there's more of a meritocracy for Muggleborns and a tolerance of magical creatures."

" _Barely_ ," Lucy sneered. "It's only because of the _youkai_ here. And a lot of the old Pureblood families were wiped out during the Second World War. The others only retained as much power as they did by sponsoring other families, but it means they're still in charge. It's still a backbiting cesspool. And they're waiting for an excuse, along with elements of the mundane government, to wipe us out. They want Mother to fail."

"She won't. Unless they sabotage her. And if they do…" Harry's eyes met her own. "Then it'll be the last mistake they make."

An ominous chill filled the room briefly. Eventually, Yuka dispelled it by saying, "You know, you always cook at your best when you're angry. Not that your food isn't good when you're not, but…"

"It depends. Remember when I used my Vectors to try and make sashimi?"

Yuka grimaced. "I'm trying to forget that. We were picking bits of fish out of everywhere for _weeks._ "

"Can't be any worse than the Takoyaki Incident," Kohta said unwisely, before Yuka glared at him.

"First Rule of Maple Inn: We do NOT talk about the Takoyaki Incident. Second Rule of Maple Inn…"

"You only say that because the batter got in your hair, Yuka," Lucy said with a smirk.

"I HAD TO WEAR A WIG! NO BATTER SHOULD SET LIKE GLUE AND NEED ME TO HAVE MY HAIR CUT OFF!"

"And you looked fetching in that pink wig," Harry said. "You looked like one of us."

"One of us, one of us, gooble-gobble, gooble-gobble," Lucy chanted(3). Nana joined in, waving her arms in a seated dance.

Yuka, despite being mortified, actually didn't mind the playful teasing, Harry knew. It reassured her, despite knowing about the dark nature of the Diclonii, of their murderous instincts, that they were still human in most regards, the truly essential ones. The line between human and Diclonius was far more blurry than many would like. Hell, the killer instinct of the Diclonii was, in all likelihood, something all humans had shared, but was usually buried under the trappings of civilisation and society. An instinct to eliminate all possible threats to one's existence, so that the species could go on.

But what nature had inflicted on them, nurture could mitigate. Harry knew that he and Lucy were not paragons of what was laughably called humanity. They had fairly loose morals and a tendency to act violently to slights and threats against them and their loved ones. But his mother had never treated him as anything other than her son, and she had done the same to Lucy when she adopted her. His mother once told him that Dumbledore had claimed love to be the most powerful magic of all, and while he had to sneer at such sentimental nonsense, the truth was, without love, they may have become the very monsters humans feared them to be.

Here, Harry had family and friends. It was a strange, eclectic and even a little twisted group of people, but they were bound together. He would protect them to his dying breath. Especially Lucy. And he knew she would too…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, we've got a glimpse of life in the Maple Inn. A strange family, but hey.**

 **1\. Okamoto is, of course, the last name of the** ** _Elfen Lied_** **creator, Lynn Okamoto, while Maruyama comes from Kugane Maruyama, the writer of** ** _Overlord_** **.**

 **2\. Pochi was the name of the dog as given in sakurademonalchemist's** ** _Alpha Queen_** **. I don't know whether the dog has a canon name yet, so I'm going with that.**

 **3\. Lucy is quoting from the old movie** ** _Freaks_** **, which has been quoted in shows like** ** _The League of Gentlemen_** **and** ** _The Big Bang Theory_** **.**


	173. Raptor of the 20th Ward Chapter 1

**Soo...those of you who have been following my _Elfen Lied_ crossover _Children of the Revolution_ will know that I've expressed an interest in doing a _Tokyo Ghoul_ crossover. Well, here it is, the possible beginning of a crossover. And one that I think will be fairly different to the norm. Many of the prominent crossovers either have Harry as a Ghoul or part-Ghoul, paired with Uta (either as a slashfic or with a female Harry), or both. I intend to go against the grain.**

 **In the reviews of _Children of the Revolution_ , a lot of people asked me to pair Harry with Eto. I will admit, that's actually intriguing, but unfortunately, as of writing this, I've only read the first three volumes of the manga, as well as having watched the first few episodes of the anime. So I wouldn't be able to do Eto's character justice, especially if I decided to try and move her away from being a villain. But never say never, as this is one of the few suggestions from my readers that I am actually considering.**

 **This story was, as with a few of my stories of late, nutted out during discussion with Arawn D Draven. It's also an answering of my 'Harry Fueguchi' challenge that I posted on the forums of DZ2 and whitetigerwolf. The thought of Harry as a human being raised by Ryoko Fueguchi was adorable, especially if he was Hinami's big brother figure. Plus, I wanted to shape Touka into a somewhat more likeable character, and decided on pairing her with Harry for this, partly because I don't think it's actually been done. And I have soft spots for characters voiced by Brina Palencia.**

 **Despite the implication that I made here, there's no Hermione/Nishiki here. I actually considered that, but I think Hermione/Ken might do better.**

 **Incidentally, this isn't my first _Tokyo Ghoul_ fic. I just published a one-shot crossover with _Black Lagoon_ , the first crossover on this website, called _The Cleaner with the Kagune_. It's my Halloween one-shot for the year, so give it a go, _Tokyo Ghoul_ fans.**

 **Anyway, hope you enjoy...**

* * *

 _ **RAPTOR OF THE 20TH WARD**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **CAFFEINE AND CANNIBALISM**

Ghouls. A subspecies of humans who are obligate cannibals, who can literally eat nothing but human flesh, the only drinks they can imbibe being ordinary water and coffee. Monsters in human skin, so they are thought of as. And yet, they are also as capable of kindness and goodwill as other humans, though this is something that isn't widely known or advertised. But they also have abilities beyond that of humans, and that, along with their dietary habits, make them the subject of fear.

Across the world, Ghouls are frequently hunted by the Commission for Countering Ghouls, or the CCG, an investigative organisation with powers and budgets often only afforded to federal police and anti-terrorism agencies. Many are fanatical hunters of Ghouls, and the investigators are frequently, and with no small amount of irony, dubbed 'Doves' by the Ghouls. To add insult to injury, many wield Quinques, weapons derived from _kagunes_ , the predatory organs of the Ghouls they have killed.

There is a shadow war, then, waged between the Ghouls and the humans who hunt them. But in Tokyo's 20th Ward, formerly known as Nerima, there exists a dark protector of the Ghouls there. Not a Ghoul, at least not by blood, though certainly by adoption. Orphaned from his birth parents, abandoned by his relatives, adopted by a Ghoul family. If there was any hope that humans and Ghouls could co-exist, then he embodied it.

To the CCG, he was known by his self-declared alias, Raptor, a hawk set against the Doves, and a thief of their Quinques. To the Ghouls of the 20th Ward, he was a guardian. To some other Ghouls, he was seen either as an implacable enemy, or a human who didn't know his place on the food chain.

But to the world at large, he was Harry Fueguchi…

* * *

"…Anyway, there were these two Ghouls, right? They opted to share a body between them to eat. One started from the feet, the other from the head. The one who started from the head asked, ' _Are you enjoying yourself?_ ' And the other Ghoul goes, ' _Yep, I'm having a ball_ '. So the first Ghoul says, ' _Well, slow down! You're eating too fast(_ _1)_ _!_ '"

Of the three boys in their late teens walking down the street, the sandy blonde boy laughed almost like a hyena, while a dark-haired, rather lugubrious-looking boy grimaced, an uneasy smile briefly touching his lips. "Harry, that's not funny."

The teller of the joke, a boy with messy black hair and emerald eyes flashing behind glasses, rolled his eyes. Unlike the other two, he wasn't Japanese, but rather, European. "Okay, it's a bit off-colour, Ken, but seriously, lighten up a little. Seriously. I mean, you don't have to be as loud and obnoxious as Hide here…"

"Oi!"

"Quiet, you. I swear, you remind me of a certain redhead I used to know," Harry said with a sigh. "Besides, you keep talking so loudly about how you want to get laid. Turn it down a notch."

"Hey, you're the one with the hot coffee waitress as a girlfriend," Hide complained. "I mean, you've got good taste, but you don't need to lord it around."

"I don't. You just think I do. But if I 'lorded it around' as you put it, Touka would have my arse," Harry said. "You don't want to get on her bad side, believe me."

"What? I don't believe that. Sweet, shy Touka? I'd sooner believe it about that girl you knew from Britain…Hermione Granger, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, well, you don't want to mess with her either," Harry said. "And remind Nishiki that if he messes with her, he'll regret it."

Not that Nishiki needed any reminders of that. Harry had cornered the young man and made a few pointed remarks about how, if he harmed one of the few people he had good feelings towards from his year spent in Britain, dealing with that stupid blood tournament, then he would dismember him and force-feed him his own limbs and wedding tackle.

They soon came to the Anteiku coffee shop. Harry sighed. He frequently slept over at Anteiku, where he worked, rather than going home, partly because he sometimes slept over with his girlfriend, Touka Kirishima. Today was one of his days off, but he wanted to see Touka anyway.

He knew Hide mostly through Ken, whom he'd met once in a bookstore, trying to get a signed copy of one of Sen Takatsuki's books. Harry had been getting his copies signed, as well as his little sister's copy of _Monochrome Rainbow_ signed. The two got to talking, and Harry and Ken eventually swapped phone numbers. Truth be told, Harry saw something of himself in Ken, the timid teenager being what Harry had been like when he had first been adopted by his new family. And frankly, he was a bit like his younger sister. Harry wondered if the boy had been abused in the past, and guessed he may have been.

Harry entered, and met the eyes…well, the one eye visible, of his girlfriend of the past few years, Touka Kirishima. Her dark hair was hanging over one of her eyes in an endearing manner, and she looked rather cute in that uniform. "Welcome to Anteiku," she greeted Ken and Hide, showing a small, soft and realistic smile…that Harry knew was as false as the average Hollywood star's breasts. "Please take a seat, and I will serve you shortly." She looked at Harry. "Harry, Mr Yoshimura wished to talk to you."

Harry nodded. Given the serious tone of her voice, Yoshimura clearly had some important news. The old man wasn't present at the moment, in the coffee shop proper, so he must've been upstairs. Harry therefore went upstairs, and soon found Yoshimura poring over some paperwork. The old man had a kindly face, and indeed, was a kind man. But that hadn't always been the case. "You wanted to see me, Grandpa?" he said. He'd called Yoshimura 'grandpa' for a long time, ever since they met when he was but a timid nine year old, abandoned in Japan by the Dursleys, who doubtlessly hoped a Ghoul would eat him.

The joke was on them. He got _adopted_ by a Ghoul family. His stepparents were Ghouls, his stepsister was a Ghoul, his honorary grandfather was a Ghoul, and even his girlfriend was a Ghoul. A freak more loved by monsters than by allegedly normal human beings. Irony abounded.

"Yes, Harry," Yoshimura said, with his usual paternal smile. "A few things. Some serious, some not. Perhaps I should get the less onerous news out of the way. Your Mastery dissertation on the Palatability Potion has finally been voted through. Remus just called me."

"Ha! Great!" Harry said, pumping his fist. "Take that, Pureblood idiots!"

"Yes…I admit, apparently it caused quite the stir, creating a potion that allows Ghouls to taste and eat normal food without any side-effects, even if we don't derive any nutrition from it," Yoshimura said. "You're also one of the youngest to attain their Potions Mastery in the world. I believe one of the youngest was that rather unpleasant fellow you met in Britain, Professor Snape. Still, apparently it was a very controversial decision, so I'd be careful. Of course, there are other things to worry about."

"…Yeah, this is one of those good news, bad news kind of deals, isn't it?" Harry asked, his original elated mood deflating.

"Indeed. Firstly, there's yet another motion afoot in the British Wizengamot to extradite you to stand trial for the…ahem, 'brutal and vicious murder of many upstanding British Purebloods'," Yoshimura said. "Dumbledore may not be able to stop this one, either. Apparently that appalling Umbridge woman had found some loophole or other that might allow her to actually bring people here, and the local Aurors may not be able to stop them. Something about rendering so many lines extinct, any immunity that you have as a Japanese citizen is moot."

"Then I'll deal with them. That way, the larders here will be stocked for a while," Harry said grimly.

Yoshimura sighed quietly. "Harry, I cannot protest the use of violence in self-defence. But do you think killing them will stop them? Or will it just spur them to try harder?"

"Grandpa, unlike the Doves, who've got some legitimate reason to go after Ghouls even if they're pricks about it, these idiots are just sore because I dealt with that snakefaced bastard and his cronies. Those I killed were themselves unrepentant racist murderers, even Dumbledore, with all his bleating about redemption, recognised that. Anyway, if any of them try, they'll have Touka to deal with, and you know how she felt when they took me away the first time."

Yoshimura chuckled. "Yes. I believe that was the first time Touka actually admitted that you were her friend. Ah, young love. Just remember to use protection until you're both ready. I may be old, but I don't think I'm ready for great-grandchildren yet."

Harry grimaced at Yoshimura's joke. Even if they didn't use protection, the odds were against them being able to have a child, due to the differing physiologies of humans and Ghouls. It was possible: Yoshimura confessed once that he knew of a Ghoul who had managed to have a child with a normal human, but the likelihood of that happening was 2%. Harry was developing a potion to help that, but he and Touka had agreed that they wouldn't try until they had finished their education, and Harry had finished formulating this potion.

"Anyway, I'm guessing stroppy British wizards aren't the only bad news, right?" Harry asked.

"No. The Binge Eater has come to the 20th Ward," Yoshimura said.

Harry did a double take. "… _What_. That bitch Rize is coming here?! I told her never to come here last time she tried. Even left her a few nasty scars. You'd think even a sadistic animal like her would learn. Jesus, this is going to bring the Doves down on us."

"I'm sure. I've warned your family, as well as other vulnerable Ghouls. There's another problem, though. There are rumours that she was confronted by the Ghoul known as 'Jason' at the Aqua Building."

"…Shit. Aogiri Tree's taken an interest in her? Great. As if we didn't have enough troubles already." He ran a hand through his messy thatch of hair. "Stupid bitch. Stupid, wasteful, murderous bitch. Doesn't care that she'll bring the Doves here. Even Tsukiyama, twisted fuck though he is, knows better. Most of the time, anyway."

Yoshimura nodded, returning to his paperwork. "A storm is coming, as the cliché goes. Outing a Ghoul's identity goes against our code, and this is a place of strict neutrality. But…if you find that she's causing more trouble than she's worth…"

"You don't even have to ask. Rize's the embodiment of everything I hate about Ghouls. I'll slice off her head and mail it to the CCG with my usual message."

" _The Raptor sends his regards_ ," Yoshimura murmured. "Though I don't doubt that they will still want to pursue you. The Quinques you stole ensure that."

"They stole them from the Ghouls they killed," Harry said with an unrepentant shrug. "Turnabout's fair play…"

* * *

He waited until Touka had a break from her duties. It was her he really came to see, after all. Once she walked into the living room of the Anteiku, he dashed over to her and gave her a hug. "Hey, Touka," Harry said.

"Hey, Harry," the Ghoul said, a smile touching her lips, not fake like the one downstairs, but a soft, gentle one. Touka generally had a sullen, stoic and antisocial nature most of the time, with a somewhat short temper, something she concealed when working here. Harry felt privileged that, over the years, he'd managed to become her friend, and managed to get her to show her more human self. She'd even become his willing test subject for his Palatability Potion…and had wept quietly at being allowed to taste cake the way normal humans did.

True, she had been rather contemptuous towards Harry when they first met, and it was only Harry's mother and sister who drew them together. But eventually, a mutual dislike turned into friendship, Harry and Touka warming to each other. By the time they reached their teens, they had become best friends. A few months ago, they had even become lovers, bound by a strange love. Well, it couldn't be anything but strange in love between a British-born wizard and a Japanese Ghoul.

Oh, Touka was still a fairly strong misanthrope with a bit of a temper…but she had calmed down somewhat. The wounds left behind by her mother's death, and the disappearance of her father and brother, were healing. Not healed entirely, but healing. It helped that Harry, having been raised by the Fueguchis, had gotten used to being around Ghouls, knowing the humanity that they still possessed despite their monstrous nature.

"I don't know why you hang out with those two," Touka said as they separated. "The blonde one's a loudmouthed idiot who thinks with his dick. Even knowing I'm your girlfriend, the cocky little shit hit on me."

"Hey, I'm not arguing with you there, Hide is like that…though he's got to be smart if he got into Kamii University. I'll have to have words with him later, though, about hitting on you. But Ken…you know I see a little of what I was like in him. He's like a puppy who's been kicked so many times, and yet is still eager to please. Poor bastard."

"…Yeah, I suppose. He's a wimp, though. It's probably just as well you weren't down there. The Binge Eater strolled in, bold as brass, and it was all I could do to stop myself from telling her to fuck off."

"Fuck…so Grandpa was right. I was kind of hoping he wasn't," Harry said. "That's all we need, having her bring the Doves down on us. Mum and Dad don't need that sort of heat, let alone Hinami."

"Hey…we'll protect them together," Touka said quietly, but with conviction. And Harry knew she would anyway. The Fueguchis meant too much to her to say otherwise.

After a moment, Touka said, "Once I get changed, walk me home, okay?"

Harry nodded. It wasn't because Touka wanted or needed protection. It was more that they enjoyed each other's company. And they hoped that, together, they could weather the storm to come.

More fool them.

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So…Harry's got a Ghoulfriend. *ducks to avoid thrown produce* Oi! I have a right to use bad puns if I want to!**

 **Anyway, more about Harry's family life in the next chapter…followed by what happens to Ken. Keep in mind, Touka did not notice Ken and Rize making a date, or else she probably would have told Harry. She may not give a shit about Ken, despite her improved attitude compared to canon, but she knows Harry does.**

 **It's worth pointing out that Touka is also more of a** ** _kuudere_** **in this story than the sort of** ** _kuudere-tsundere_** **mix she seemed to be in** ** _Tokyo Ghoul_** **canon. I have to admit, she's probably one of the better** ** _tsundere_** **characters I have read, and I generally detest that character archetype…**

 **1\. This joke was modified from one Jason Manford told about cannibals in the** ** _QI_** **episode** ** _Kitchen Sink_** **, while they were discussing a souvenir cannibal fork from Fuji. No, I did not make that up. Obviously, they don't practise it nowadays.**


	174. Raptor of the 20th Ward Chapter 2

**So, here it is, the second chapter of _Raptor of the 20th Ward_.**

 **EDIT: It's worth noting that this will be following the manga mostly, but hybridising some elements from the anime, such as Dr Fueguchi being alive until relatively recently (as compared to the months prior to the manga).**

* * *

 _ **RAPTOR OF THE 20TH WARD**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **A TRAGEDY BEGINS**

His father was working late, of course. Dr Asaki Fueguchi was frequently busy at work. And Harry, after dinner (his mother and sister had only recently eaten, and Ghouls could subsist on an entire body for a month), was helping his little sister Hinami do some study. Due to his mother's not unreasonable fears about Hinami slipping up and revealing the fact that she was a Ghoul to her classmates, Hinami was being homeschooled. Harry had been homeschooled himself, until Mahoutokoro came calling, telling the Fueguchis that Harry was a wizard…and if that weren't shocking enough, that he was famous back in Britain.

Harry didn't really like the wizards in general. Oh, there were many good ones, but they were so obsessed with blood status here, it wasn't funny. Not to mention that a few idiots looked down on Harry for being a foreigner. If they knew who his adoptive family were, then his status would plummet, though only a few people knew the truth for sure in Mahoutokoro.

In any case, he was helping Hinami with learning to read kanji. It was, admittedly, a learning experience for him at times too, as he was still struggling somewhat with certain kanji characters, something that had caused him trouble at Mahoutokoro. Plus, he wanted to spend time with his little sister. Hinami was shy, like Ken was, and like Harry had been. Only around her family, or with friends like Touka, who she called 'big sis', did she come out of her shell more. Then again, Hinami was improving lately. She was becoming more and more cheerful, despite the cruelty of an existence of being an obligate cannibal, hunted by the CCG.

Harry found it an irony how the Fueguchis treated him more like family than the Dursleys. Of course, discovering that they were Ghouls was a shock. It had been a week since they had taken him in…and then, he saw them eating raw flesh, their sclerae black, their irises crimson, the distinctive signs of a Ghoul's _kakugan_ or 'red eye'…

He had run. He had fled the family who had taken him in…only to run into another Ghoul, one who decided to attack him. But Asaki saved him, using his _kagune_ to kill that Ghoul. Harry had been nearly killed in the process, and indeed, his father claimed that Harry's heart stopped a couple of times during the operation…and for some reason, a black smoke seemed to waft from his scar.

It took weeks for Harry to accept that his new family was not fattening him up to eat him, that they genuinely wanted to raise him like their own son. It took longer still for the barriers to truly come down. But eventually, Harry accepted his new family.

Of course, things weren't always easy. Shortly after being admitted to Mahoutokoro, an old man by the name of Dumbledore came calling, trying to persuade Harry to attend schooling in Britain, at some place called Hogwarts, and for Harry to return to the Dursleys. However, after much discussion, the old man eventually admitted defeat. He had discovered that the Fueguchis were Ghouls…and they were worried he would expose that, but the old man, surprisingly, didn't. Then again, he used Legilimency to confirm their good intentions.

Not that it stopped some prick from entering him into what was supposed to be the **_Tri_** -Wizard Tournament. Thankfully, he could commute using a Portkey, but he did stay for longer than he had to, staying for days at a time. Admittedly, he made few friends at Hogwarts, but it was more than he made at Mahoutokoro. Hermione, the Weasley Twins, their younger brother Ron and younger sister Ginny, a shy boy called Neville and a rather dotty girl called Luna. Oh, and that girl Fleur and that boy Cedric.

He despised how a lot of them either hated him, or fawned all over him for being the Boy Who Lived. Harry had to channel some of Touka's scarier faces and sayings to get them to piss off. Then again, by that point, his relationship with Touka had improved enough that, when he asked her to come to the Yule Ball with him, she said yes, albeit reluctantly. They did have to claim that she had eaten before she came to the Yule Ball, so that her lack of eating wouldn't look suspicious.

Of his friends from Hogwarts, Harry only confided the truth about Touka and his family to Hermione, though Luna figured it out. Hermione, understandably, had been shocked, but upon learning that Dumbledore had okayed the Fueguchis as Harry's guardians, decided to accept that.

That year wasn't without its trials and travails, though. Aside from that prick Snape and a rather irritating blonde called Malfoy, Harry had to deal with a bitch of a paparazzi called Rita Skeeter, those three Tasks…and the man who wanted him dead from an early age. Thankfully, by that point, Harry had stolen his first Quinque…and used it to kill Voldemort, as well as most of his followers.

Of course, later on, after that debacle had been sorted out, he got a new person coming to Tokyo: a werewolf by the name of Remus Lupin. Long story short, Lupin had been a friend of the Potters, but hadn't been allowed to adopt Harry due to anti-werewolf laws that were, while not as draconian as the anti-Ghoul laws, were not far from it. Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, had died, having his soul sucked out by Dementors sent to capture him. He wasn't a traitor to the Potters, though, as it turned out. He'd managed to persuade Dumbledore and Remus that another friend of the Potters, Peter Pettigrew, had been the true traitor, and had been hiding out as a pet rat. Unfortunately, Pettigrew escaped, and Sirius, in the ensuing commotion, was Kissed by a Dementor, his name forever tarnished.

Then again, Pettigrew was one of those Harry tore apart with his Quinque in the graveyard, so Sirius was avenged.

Remus had helped tutor Harry in magic outside of Mahoutokoro. Unlike many others, when he learned Harry was being raised by Ghouls, his only reaction was concern and a little shock, not an instant desire for Harry to be taken away from them. Ghouls and werewolves were not unalike in many regards, after all, given the way they were treated by society, even if they tried to hide the monster within.

Harry was broken from his reverie by Hinami, who was gently tugging at his sleeve. "Big brother, I've finished my exercises."

Harry looked at them, and nodded, cuddling his little sister, bring her close. He knew that she felt comforted by his smell, rather than having her hunger awoken. "We'll have to get Mum to check them to be sure."

Hinami nodded. "Can Miss Hemai-onii come around soon?"

"It's Hermione, Hinami, and if she's got spare time, yes," Harry said.

"She's nice…even if she asks me all those questions," Hinami said.

"Hermione's like that," Harry said.

"She has a funny name."

"It comes from Shakespeare. _The Winter's Tale_ ," he said.

It was at that point that Ryoko, his adoptive mother, came in. A rather demure-looking woman with light brown hair, she smiled at Harry and Hinami. "Oh, you're done, Hinami? May I look?"

Hinami nodded, and Ryoko began looking through the notebook, before she looked at Hinami. "Very good, Hinami, but you got some of the characters wrong. Don't worry, a lot of children your age find them difficult."

"Yeah, see, this is why the English alphabet is better," Harry snarked. "26 letters, not 46 hiragana, 46 katakana, and Merlin knows how many kanji."

"Now, now, none of your cheek, Harry," Ryoko said, though her smile remained on her face. "Hinami, dear, you can go and watch TV. They're repeating _Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha_."

Hinami smiled, and scurried out of the small study, whereupon Ryoko sat down with a sigh. "So, did Mr Yoshimura tell you about what happened?"

"Well, if it's about the Brits potentially coming over, not to mention the Binge-Eating Bitch moving into Nerima, then yes," Harry said. "Dad knows, right?"

Ryoko nodded. "He's going to be careful. That being said, I think we all should be. Harry…are you going to hunt Rize?"

"Maybe. If I mail her head to the CCG, then maybe the Doves will leave us the hell alone," Harry said. "The problem is, Grandpa said that Aogiri Tree may be interested in Rize, and you know they're bad news."

"…Then be careful. Rize may appear reckless, but she's been able to evade the Doves before. We'd best pray that what happened at the Aqua Club is all that Rize is going to do," Ryoko said.

"Yeah, well, you and I know that's not going to happen. Rize's going to gorge herself until the Doves come calling, and leave us to deal with the inevitable fallout," Harry said. "Even that wanker Nishiki or that freak Tsukiyama and his allies know better. I need to protect you and Hinami. I've resigned myself to a life of death and violence to protect those I care about. You know this, Mum."

Ryoko nodded sadly. "Yes, I do know. I just hoped…with you in our family, we could have some semblance of normality."

"…Mum, you, Dad and Hinami are obligate cannibals, and I'm a wizard who was thought the Brits' messiah. Normal doesn't enter into it."

Ryoko laughed, somewhat bleakly, at her adoptive son's blunt assessment of the situation. Harry knew that she didn't like what he did on their behalf, if only because she didn't want him to be a violent person. But it was a violent world, and she knew he did it for their sake…

* * *

A couple of days later, Harry's main mobile trilled, in the evening, as he was out on patrol. It was Touka. " _Hello?_ " he asked, his mask's voice changer lowering his voice into an eldritch growl.

" _Raptor, I've just spotted Rize. She's walking with Kaneki towards the building site near Takada Building Street. I can't help the wimp, I'm with Yoriko._ "

Harry looked around. Thankfully, he wasn't that far away. " _I'll be there soon._ " With that, he changed…becoming a green-eyed falcon. He was technically an unregistered Animagus, but he'd be damned if he'd tell the local Ministry all of his tricks, especially considering many were arseholes.

He flew, and found Ken running for his life, Rize striding unhurriedly behind. But even as he dived down, he saw the crimson tendrils of Rize's _kagune_ lash out and skewer Ken. Harry transformed just behind Rize in time for the bitch to hurl him into a wall. " _Get away from him!_ " Harry snarled.

Rize turned to look at him, cocking her head, her _kakugan_ on full display. He knew what she was seeing, a dark trenchcoat, a fedora, and a mask that looked like an falcon. A sneer touched her lips. "My, my, if it isn't the Raptor of the 20th Ward. And here I was thinking you an urban myth."

Harry merely sent a Cutting Curse her way. The bitch dodged the spell, but it bit into one of her tendrils. "What the hell did you do?!" she demanded furiously.

" ** _Fuck you_** _, that's what. Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to kill you, and call the ambulance for this kid…and I'm going to send your head to the Doves_ …" But before he could say anything further, he heard a noise from above, and looked up, watching as a pile of steel beams began toppling off the side of the building. Instantly, he dived to the side, while Rize had enough time to look up before she got squashed by the steel beams.

He glared at the pile of beams as Rize whimpered in pain, before she fell silent. That was too quick an end for her. Instead, he hurried over to Ken. He tried healing him, but there was only so much he could do with the limited healing spells he knew. Instead, he dialled 119 for the paramedics on his burner phone. When they answered, he said, " _This is Raptor. I have just found a victim of the Binge Eater at the construction site near Takada Building Street. He has been critically injured by the bitch's_ kagune. _I have done what I can. Get here now._ "

He looked at Ken as he struggled to stay awake. " _You'll be fine. I promise._ "

* * *

He watched from a nearby building in hawk form as the ambulance came promptly, more than they usually did. He sincerely hoped that Ken would be all right. Apparating with him in that state would be dangerous, and in any case, the Japanese Ministry frequently clamped down on any breachers of the Statute of Secrecy. He was surprised that the paramedics also fished Rize's body out and put it in. He thought that they would leave it for the Doves to collect.

He didn't know it, but this night would change Ken forever. And bring his destiny into line with Harry, his family, Touka and the others of Anteiku…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Oh dear. Shit just happened.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	175. Prodigal Daughter Chapter 1

**I've been in the mood to try and do another _Game of Thrones_ crossover. I had considered doing a few of whitetigerwolf's challenges, including 'Mountain Sand', 'Aunt?', and, especially key to this story, 'Red Wolf'. That challenge in particular was what inspired this story, but eventually, I grew out of it. 'Red Wolf' required a Harry/Sansa pairing, and while I would have loved to have somehow gotten Sansa to get a clue before the first season, in the end, she's not that interesting a character.**

 **But her sister Arya is another story.**

 **A sticking point, obviously, is how young Arya is. She's about eleven at the start of _Game of Thrones_ (and nine at the start of the book _A Game of Thrones_ ), and that would make a pairing tricky. In addition, I wanted to do a story set during the first season of the series, and one involving an older Harry free of the trials and travails of Hogwarts. So, I decided to do some timey-wimey stuff: Arya disappears from Westeros for nine months, but the Potterverse had her there for nine years, thus making her nineteen. It's not the first time I've done time running at different rates in other worlds, but it's probably one of the more extreme examples.**

 **Also, this Arya is one who has grown up in the modern world. Yes, even Magical Britain is more modern compared to Westeros. She's still a tomboy and a fighter, but she's also more assured of herself and her identity. I was actually partly inspired by Maisie Williams' performance as Ashildr in Series 9 of _Doctor Who_. But at the same time, she misses her family immensely, and they, in turn, miss her. But she's also, alongside Harry, going to be a force for change in Westeros.**

 **Unlike _A Union of Dragons_ , though, I only intend for Harry to come to Westeros, and Dany is still doing her thing in Essos. How Harry and Dany affect things in _A Union of Dragons_ will be different, as they'll be more dealing with the North, while Harry and Arya in this story would head to King's Landing with Ned and Sansa, whose relationship with Arya is much better now. Still a twit when it comes to Joffrey, but she's not going to be the rather stubborn little teenaged girl she was in canon.**

 **BTW, for those worried about whether _Raptor of the 20th Ward_ will see the light of day, it's still being worked on. I'm five chapters in, and once I hit eight, it's going to be published as a full story...assuming I make it that far. Still, I hope you enjoy...**

* * *

 _ **PRODIGAL DAUGHTER**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **THE PRODIGAL DAUGHTER RETURNS**

It's a terrible thing to mourn the loss of someone who hasn't even been confirmed dead, who may never be confirmed dead. There's a phantom pain, like a missing limb, only, it's where part of the heart would be. It's the uncertainty more than anything else, the possibility that the person in question might still be alive, even though the odds were stacked against it. For a family as tightknit as the Starks of Winterfell, it's especially painful.

It all happened after a bad argument between them, or rather, three of its members. Arya Stark had gotten into an argument with her mother Catelyn Stark (née Tully) and her older sister, Sansa Stark, over a number of issues. They could be boiled down to two issues: how they treated the bastard child of Ned Stark, Jon Snow, and the expectations of Arya being forced to be a lady, to be a brood mare to be married off. Harsh and nasty words were exchanged, hurtful things, and eventually, Arya, after screaming at her mother and her sister that she hated them, fled the dining hall…and fled Winterfell, into the dark of the night.

Ned soon got a search party together to find Arya. She was easy to track, being only ten namedays old…but she had had a substantial headstart in the darkness…and her trail led to a cave, one Ned had warned his children about before, nicknamed 'the Stranger's Maw' by some. Because not far from the entrance to the cave was an abyss that seemed bottomless. And Ned soon had to confront the fact that his youngest daughter, one who reminded him so much of his sister Lyanna, had fallen down that abyss. The usually grim and stoic man had broken down, wailing and grieving. He still searched as best as he could for her, but he had to confront the reality that she was lost, dead or dying at the bottom of an abyss, one he couldn't even retrieve her body from.

This nearly broke the Starks apart. Arguments and recriminations followed. The warmth that had pervaded Winterfell's chilly corridors receded. It wasn't until Ned and his wife had a very long talk, part-argument, part-confession, and part-catharsis, that things began to even remotely resemble something normal again. Jon Snow didn't know the reason why Catelyn Stark had eased off on her cold-hearted attitude towards him, instead being…well, not nice as much as being more courteous and less harsh. Then again, he didn't know the truth about his parentage. But Catelyn did now, and she was horrified at how well her spite towards Jon acted as camouflage for a boy who was actually her nephew. Camouflage for those who wanted to make a palimpsest of the Targaryen bloodline for once and for all.

The children missed Arya's presence. Even Sansa, whose spite and hatred in the heat of the moment overrode the true sisterly affection she felt for Arya. She now wanted her sister back more than anything. The only one who didn't really miss her presence was their ward and hostage, Theon Greyjoy. But nobody really gave a crap about his opinion.

It had been nine moons since that fateful night. A night that the Starks would give anything to reverse, to undo, to have Arya Stark returned to them. And this day, a miracle would come to pass, a miracle that was accompanied by another…

* * *

A pair of travellers walked the Kingsroad to Winterfell, going through the bleak, cold, mist-wreathed landscape. This wasn't quite unusual in of itself, despite the infrequent traffic along the Kingsroad in this part of the world. Rather, it was the manner of dress they wore, not thick, cumbersome clothes, but strange thin long-sleeved tunics with hoods, and puffy jackets that seemed to be made of a shiny material. Their boots were also unusual, being dark in colour and shiny.

Then again, considering said clothes had been bought at a Marks & Spencer store in London, it was hardly surprising that the clothes would be hard to recognise. They did, after all, come from another world entirely.

Both figures, beneath the bulk of their clothes, were rather slender and dark-haired. They were in their late teens. And both, despite the way they bickered and bantered, had a wariness to them both despite their young years.

"Dammit, why couldn't the ritual send us closer to home?" complained one of the figures, a girl by the sound of her voice if not her words.

"Hey, your home is a pinprick compared to the rest of your world," the other figure, apparently a boy, retorted. "Hermione warned us that the margin of error would be pretty big. Anyway, didn't you say we were only a few hours' walk away?"

"Yeah, I know…but I would've thought we would have seen it by now. Then again, this mist isn't helping," the girl said, her voice becoming a little morose. "I want to see them again! It's been nine years for me."

"Yeah, but according to what Hermione and Luna found out from thaumatological readings and calculations, it's only been nine months here. You know, wibbly-wobbly…"

"…Timey-wimey, yes, I know. Ugh, I'll be glad when we can get Winky to set up a supply line or something. I don't want to miss any more _Doctor Who_. I've gotten too used to television. Still…will they believe it's me?"

"…If not, we'll head back home," the boy said. "I mean, back to Earth. If you don't want to stay in Westeros, that is."

"Maybe. But…I miss them. I spent the last nine years on Earth, seven of those at Hogwarts. I want to see them again, even if it's only once. I mean, you and Hermione and the Weasleys and Luna…you've been friends and family and more…but…"

"Yeah, I get the feeling. At least your family's still alive," the boy said. "Well, we hope. A lot can change in nine months."

"Don't talk like that," the girl said, the rebuke clear in her tone, but then, she gasped as she finally saw their destination, a faint outline in the distance, thanks to the mist. "…There it is. Gods, we're nearly home. We're nearly home!" She hugged her travelling companion.

The boy nodded, looking at the vast castle in the distance, a somewhat eclectic-looking castle, clearly built in several ways over the centuries, rebuilt from destruction, the new growing from the old. It wasn't a fairytale castle by any means, but a grim fortress, designed to be shelter and safety. But to the girl hugging him, it had been home. And maybe it would be again.

"So, how are we going to do this?" the boy asked. "Are we going to walk up to the gates, or do we use a Disillusionment charm, or what? I mean, we're a bit big to fit under the Invisibility Cloak together, and they'd notice our footprints in the snow and mud, wouldn't they?"

"Yeah. And I'm not convinced we can Apparate," the girl said. "My memories may not be reliable enough. A broomstick each with Disillusionment charms, then? Into the Godswood?"

"Why not? From there, we'll see if we can find your parents…"

* * *

Ned Stark came to the Godswood to pray more frequently of late. Not every day he resided in Winterfell, and certainly not on the days his duty took him away from the castle, but certainly more than he used to. He'd never heard the phrase that there was no such thing as atheists in foxholes, but he could understand the sentiment, even if he wasn't actually an atheist. It was, after all, easy to beg for favour from the gods, whether they be the Old Gods or the Seven or the Drowned God the Ironborn worshipped, when you wanted something seemingly only the gods could provide.

It had been a hard nine months for the family. After Arya's disappearance, Cat, in her grief, targeted Jon more than ever, so much that Ned finally and reluctantly decided to tell her the terrible, terrible truth…that Jon Snow was not actually Ned's bastard child with some unknown woman, but the trueborn son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen. Cat was horrified…but she also understood Ned's reasoning for keeping Jon's heritage secret. Robert Baratheon, the current King of the Seven Kingdoms, had a prodigal hatred of all things Targaryen (which Ned considered somewhat hypocritical, considering that it was a Targaryen grandmother that allowed Robert to sit on the Iron Throne), and if Jon's true heritage came out…Robert would likely call for his head, in much the same way as the Mad King had called for Ned and Robert's own. And while she didn't show Jon any love, lest he question why she changed so much…she at least treated him with more courtesy and respect, as a human being, even if not part of the family.

Sansa had been beside herself with remorse. Ironically, her relationship with Jon had improved markedly, in contrast with how her mother took a turn for the worse briefly. Then again, Arya had been loved by both, despite Sansa and Arya's bickering, and Sansa wanted nothing more than to have Arya back. So too did Robb, Bran, Rickon, and Jon. Not so much Theon Greyjoy. He seemed apathetic to the whole matter, but he wasn't family. As much as Ned wanted him to identify with the Starks, to try and imbue the young Ironborn with honour and altruism, he knew Theon resented him on some level. Theon, after all, was a hostage as well as a ward.

Ned sighed quietly, the grim-looking patriarch of the Starks looking more aged than ever. _Winter is Coming_ , his House's words said. A grim reminder of inevitability. It was like a _memento mori_ , a reminder of death. For winter brought death, and nobody knew how long it would go for.

Many Houses had threats in their words, official or not. The Baratheons had _Ours is the Fury_ , and the Lannisters had two, one official, and the other not. The official words were _Hear Me Roar_ , and the unofficial ones, _A Lannister Always Pays Their Debts_ , was a reminder that Lannisters would repay monies they owed…or slights rendered to them. The Greyjoys had _We Do Not Sow_ , a reminder of their rapacious attitude towards those on the land. But those were personal threats and warnings, not something that was more proverbial and general, a reminder all men would do well to heed.

But even as he walked through the Godswood, towards the weirwood tree with its carved face and red leaves and sap, a monument to the Old Gods, he found himself suddenly alert. Something did not belong. He realised he could hear something. Voices. Young voices. He approached more warily, knowing the voices came from the direction of the weirwood tree.

"…Have to say, it looks impressive."

"To me…it's like I've never left."

Ned felt his heart still at that voice. It sounded familiar, and yet, older, much older. The voice of a young woman. It couldn't be, though. It was utterly, utterly impossible. This was some prank, some jape or jest by the gods, Old or New. He didn't hurry, though, afraid that if he did, he might frighten them off, or else burst the illusion.

"It's beautiful, really, in a sort of creepy way. No offence to the Old Gods," came the first voice, the voice of a young man. "You all right there?"

The voice of the young woman, now thick with emotion. "I…it's just…it's just…I'm back after so long…"

Ned strode into the clearing, and found a pair of hooded figures, wearing strange clothes, in front of the weirwood tree. The young man seemed to notice him, turning. "Oh…hi. Sorry we're trespassing, but…look, this is going to sound like a very stupid question…but are you Lord Eddard Stark?"

"Aye, I am," Ned said, watching the young man carefully, his hand straying towards the hilt of his sword. "And who are you?"

"…Well, that's a very difficult question to answer, because you don't know my name," the young man said, before reaching up to his hood and pulling it down, revealing a rather thin young man with a messy thatch of raven black hair, and emerald eyes that peered at him from behind strange glass lenses perched on his face. A lightning bolt-shaped scar snaked its way from beneath his fringe. "My name is Harry Potter."

"And your companion?" Ned asked, noting that the young man was correct, he hadn't ever heard of the name 'Harry Potter'. But then again, his companion's voice…that was more concerning.

The young woman turned to face Ned, and walked towards him. When she felt she was close enough, she carefully raised her hood away from her head, revealing her face. Impossible, impossible, _impossible_ …it couldn't be her. She wouldn't be so old so soon!

And yet, her features seemed to be hers. Short dark hair framing her long features, now blossomed into a young woman, her eyes glittering with intelligence…but also with tears of both sorrow and joy. He knew it wasn't Lyanna, whose bones were in the crypts of Winterfell. But it couldn't be his daughter, who had been gone but nine moons, and yet seemed to have aged nine years!

"Hello, Father," Arya Stark, now a girl of nineteen said. "I'm home…"

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Wow. So, Harry and Arya are together? And they've arrived back at Winterfell, maybe a month or so before the events of the first season. But they have a lot of explaining to do…**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	176. Prodigal Daughter Chapter 2

**It's gratifying that the response to this story has been so great, and that a couple of people even prefer it to _A Union of Dragons_. However, I should hasten to point out that popularity is no guarantee of publication. It depends on my muse and how far I am able to take the story.**

 **It's also worth pointing out that I exploit Harry's below explanation for how time moves relative to the different universes. For a time, maybe a few years, Westeros and the Potterverse are in sync. In other words, the rate of time flowing between universes can change. Blame the way seasons work on Planetos if you want.**

 **The scar on Arya's shoulder and the story behind it is something I made up for the story. It sounded like something Arya would do, DNA testing or wizard heritage testing would be viewed with scepticism, so a scar few people would know about, let alone the story behind it, felt like a more plausible identifying mark for the Starks to accept Arya's identity.**

 **Anyway, hopefully, you'll see this as a full story. No guarantees, though...**

* * *

 _ **PRODIGAL DAUGHTER**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **EXPLANATIONS**

Harry Potter sighed quietly to himself as he and Arya sat in the room they had been brought to. Thankfully, it wasn't a jail cell in a dungeon, but it was clear that they were being confined here…though that wouldn't mean much if they really wanted to escape. Approaching Ned Stark had been a risk, admittedly, as their story was hard to believe. But Arya wanted to see her family so badly. And Harry wanted to indulge his girlfriend and, recently, lover.

To tell the truth, there was little left for him in Magical Britain. He'd gotten tired of the accolades showered on him and the other members of the Golden Quartet. Hell, even Ron was getting tired of it. But at the end of the day, after all was said and done, all that had changed was that Voldemort and a bunch of Purebloods wouldn't be troubling anyone anymore. The Ministry of Magic wanted him as their poster boy after so long spent as their whipping boy, and Harry and Arya decided to try and find a way back to her homeworld.

Arya, by her own reckoning, had ended up appearing outside the Rookery, the home of the Lovegoods, and indeed had lived with them, learning she had the ability to use magic. The first time Harry met Arya was on the Hogwarts Express, when she followed Ron into the compartment Harry was sitting in. She'd expressed mild curiosity about him, but the at-turns sullen and spirited girl kept to herself. In fact, it took a while for Arya Stark to open up to him. The turning point, as it had been with Hermione, had been their first Halloween, when Harry and Ron went to save Hermione from the troll…and Arya ended up having done half the job already, though at the cost of a concussion thanks to the belligerent troll. She had gone to talk to Hermione about Ron's insensitive comments, and ended up protecting the bushy-haired witch.

The quartet became friends, albeit somewhat fractious friends at times, usually with friction between Ron and Arya and, come second year, Arya and Ginny, the latter jealous of the attention Arya got from Harry. Both girls were equally fiery, even if only one was a redhead, but Arya had the temperament of a fighter for a long time.

What also took a long time was Arya convincing Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys that she came from another world, a world where seasons lasted for years, where the world was stuck in a medieval stasis worse than even wizarding society. Eventually, they learned the truth, especially after Dumbledore allowed them to borrow his Pensieve. And now, here he was, in Winterfell.

It took until the end of their third year for them to finally realise feelings that they had felt for each other for some time, feelings that went beyond mere friendship. It was these feelings that brought them together for the Yule Ball, that ensured Arya was at the bottom of the Black Lake during the Second Task. And it was these feelings that they finally admitted to each other during their time at 12 Grimmauld Place just before the debacle that was their fifth year.

The war had ended now, with Voldemort and his Horcruxes gone. But so were many others. Remus, Sirius, Tonks, their son Teddy and his namesake, George Weasley, Dumbledore, and so on. They were lauded as heroes, but Harry considered that cold comfort to the dead.

But Dumbledore had left one last gift behind. A ritual that, he hoped, would be able to take Arya home…and anyone else she cared to take with her. Hermione refined the ritual, and now, here they were.

The door opened, and a trio of people entered. Harry recognised the grim and grizzled features of Ned Stark, his expression pensive. The redhaired, dignified-looking woman was, at a guess, Arya's mother, Catelyn. Harry didn't recognise the old man in robes, and with a distinctive metallic chain draped around his shoulders, but his eyes burned with keen intelligence in an otherwise kindly face. And the two newcomers were staring at Arya in shock. "Impossible…" Catelyn murmured.

"My word," the old man said. "I can see why you called us, Lord Stark."

"It can't be…" Catelyn murmured.

"…Hello, Mother," Arya said softly. Then, tears began running from her eyes. "I…I'm so sorry, I…I don't hate you! I don't hate Sansa, I…"

Catelyn whirled on Ned. "What's the meaning of this?" she demanded. "If this is a jest, Ned, then I do not find it funny!"

"It's not my jest if it is one at all," Ned said grimly. "Maester Luwin?"

The old man nodded, and gently came forward, gently touching the fabric of the snow jackets Harry and Arya were still wearing. "Curious fabric," he muttered. "I've never felt the like of it, let along heard anything like this."

"It's a type of plastic," Harry offered, as the Maester began examining Arya's face carefully. "I don't think you have such things here. Look, I know how this seems…but I promise you, no matter what, I mean the Starks no harm. If anything, I would help them where I could. It's why I brought Arya back here."

"I know what you're looking for, Maester Luwin," Arya said quietly, before she shrugged off her jacket, pulled down the collar of her hoodie, revealing a small scar on her shoulder. "Remember? When I was fooling around with a crossbow bolt while trying to wind up a crossbow? The bolt wasn't in the crossbow, thankfully, but when it suddenly fired, I panicked, and the bolt badly scratched me…"

"And I berated you for being so careless," Catelyn concluded, going over and looking at the scar. "Gods, Ned…it's the same scar! If this were an impostor…they're better versed in her history than most would be…"

Ned looked at the scar, and then at Arya. "Arya…"

"Father," Arya said, before looking at Catelyn. "Mother. I…" And suddenly, she was embraced by her parents, all three sobbing and weeping.

"I missed you," Ned groaned. "I missed you, Arya…" He and Catelyn repeated that, as a mantra, over and over, as if warding against the possibility that this was a cruel dream that they may yet wake up from.

Eventually, they broke away, and Catelyn asked the question that was on their minds. "But where have you been, Arya? And why are you now a woman grown?"

Harry cleared his throat. "Yeah, sorry about that. Look, it's a bit complicated, but it boils down to one thing. When Arya fell down that hole in the cave, she didn't die, but was transported to another world. The world I come from. For some weird reason, time moved faster in my world compared to yours. Roughly, anyway. Hermione said it has a badly fluctuating temporal gradient, really, something to do with how the seasons here work." On seeing their blank looks, he said, "Well, imagine time in your world being like a meandering river, with all sorts of bends and turns and all that, and time in my world being a road that follows the river from end to end, but in a straight line, with bridges across the river in parts. If you walk down the road at the same speed as the water goes down the river, you can actually overtake the water due to taking less distance to travel."

"…I see," Maester Luwin said, although it was clear he didn't quite get all of it, or else didn't quite believe it.

"Look, the upshot was that nine months here equalled nine years on my world. It may not be that way all the time, as the difference in the way time moves between worlds seems to change, but…that's how it is. I'm sorry Arya couldn't come back earlier. That's…partly my fault."

"Harry, it's not your fault a deranged warlock wanted you dead!" Arya retorted.

Harry then felt, very acutely, the attention of both Ned Stark and Catelyn Stark on him. "Explain," Ned said, his tone of voice making it very clear that it wasn't a request…

* * *

Even in abbreviated form, the explanation took quite some time. Especially once he got to the parts where he had to explain that he and Arya were in love. After all, they were protective parents, and despite Arya getting into a bad argument with Catelyn before she ended up on Earth, it was clear that time and tide had helped smooth things over for both of them. They didn't know him, and learning that he was a wizard from another world didn't help matters. Learning that their daughter could also use magic was a bit of a shock. As a demonstration, Harry and Arya used their Animagus forms…wolves. In fact, Direwolves.

Eventually, once they digested this, Ned, Catelyn, and Luwin looked at each other. Then, he said, "Cat…I think Maester Luwin and I have to talk about how we're going to deal with this. Do you mind if we…?"

"No, of course not," Catelyn said, shaking her head. "For me, it has only been nine months. For Arya, it has been nine years. For both of us, it has been too long."

Ned nodded, before he turned his gaze to Harry. "I will be back before long."

After they exited, Arya shook her head. "I'm sorry, Mother, I…"

"No. No, it was the anger of a young girl arguing with her mother," Catelyn said, her face having a sad smile. "It's fine. Because now that you're here, neither of us have cause to regret it for the rest of our lives. You're back, Arya, even if you are a woman grown now. And…Harry…he does treat you well?"

"Of course he does! I mean, we had a tendency to get embroiled in adventures, but…if there's one thing about Harry, it's that he's loyal to his friends. We've saved each other's lives many times over. On his world, he belongs to a family of minor nobility."

"Despite a name like Potter? I'm sorry if that sounds rude, Arya, I can tell how much you mean to each other, but…"

"It's the whole arranged marriages for political reasons, right?" Harry asked.

Catelyn shot him a look, before nodding. "Yes. Ned and I wed under such circumstances. I know not whether Arya told you of our history, but…"

"She did a little. She said something about you being once one of the Tullys, and that you were wed to your husband, Lord Stark, to join the Riverlands with the North, or something?"

"I see Septa Mordane and Maester Luwin's lessons didn't all go to waste," Catelyn said to Arya facetiously.

"I didn't mind some of the history lessons, and I paid attention to why they arrange marriages. I never said I liked it," Arya said.

Catelyn's sad smile returned. "Not all women involved do. Ned and I were lucky in that we grew to love each other, and that we got many wonderful children out of it. I…I find it appalling that…I never got to see you grow up, Arya…"

"…Sorry."

"No, no…I'm glad that you are here now," Catelyn said quietly. "Robb and Bran and Rickon, they'll be glad to have you back. And Sansa's been beside herself with remorse. And of course, it goes without saying that Jon missed you too."

"But…how are we going to explain this?" Arya asked, gesturing at her body.

"We'll find a way. The problem is not explaining your return to your brothers and sister, but to everyone else," Catelyn said. "You have been declared missing, presumed dead, and there is, of course, the difference in age. In fact, you are the very spitting image of your aunt Lyanna, before everything went wrong. And to think, you fought in a war between wizards…have you killed?"

"Quite a few," Arya said quietly. "They deserved it. They viewed those who didn't come from wizarding blood as being impure. They called me a filthy little Mudblood. Yes, I have killed. Whoever said that war and killing are glorious are idiots. It's not. Not by a long shot."

"No…no, it's not," Catelyn said softly. She looked at Harry. "And you couldn't keep her out of it?"

"…Catelyn Stark…have you ever been able to stop Arya from doing something when she's set her mind to it?" Harry asked.

"No," Catelyn said with a rueful smile. "No, I have not…"

* * *

"Telling family won't be a problem," Ned said, pacing his solar, while Maester Luwin looked on pensively. "However, telling others may be. We may have confirmed her identity, but others will claim otherwise, that we have gone insane."

Luwin cleared his throat. "There is a possibility, though it is rather distasteful. Given how strongly Arya resembles your late sister, it is clear she has Stark blood running through her. Perhaps we can claim that she is a child of one of your brothers? Conceived by either Brandon before the Mad King summoned him to King's Landing, or by Benjen before he took the Black."

"…As a trueborn, or as a bastard?" Ned asked.

"Sadly, in all likelihood, the latter, Lord Stark," Luwin said.

Ned grimaced at the thought. "Cat won't like this. She'll understand, but she won't like this. The problem is…what if Robert sees her?"

"That could indeed be a problem," Luwin said. "Given her strong resemblance to your sister…it wouldn't have been a problem had her age not changed so much…though it is unlikely that Robert would come North in the foreseeable future. Or that she would go to King's Landing. What do you think of their tale?"

"It's ridiculously fantastic…but you'd think that a lie would be more believable. But I also know my daughter. I can tell she's changed…but I know it's her. Having you check her, well, I needed to be sure. To be sure that I wasn't imagining things. And I wanted Cat to be there. What are your impressions of the Potter lad?"

"It's hard to consider his character on such short acquaintance, but he seems earnest, loyal, and determined. Arya would not let anyone into her heart that she didn't like, unless she was ensorcelled, but I would imagine that it would have to be a subtle sorcery to have few changes in behaviour…aside from, of course, those caused by age. If he has a glaring fault, it's that he does not seem to care about speaking with due deference to one's station."

"I didn't rebuke him on it because of our trying to determine whether that was Arya. And if he does come from another world, it would explain much. Their clothes, for example…I haven't seen fabric like it on those jackets. And those boots…not leather."

"No. And the clothing that seemed to be made out of normal cloth seemed to have an unusually fine weave. In any case, I'd suggest keeping an eye on him, but otherwise treating him as a guest. Indeed, while the Seven frown upon sorcery, a mage would be better to have on our side than not, especially one who has fought through a war. Then again, you saw his eyes. He is weary of war, Lord Stark. He is hoping to have a quiet life with Arya, I daresay."

"Maybe," Ned said quietly. "But winter is coming, as it always does. And peace doesn't last…"

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry and Arya have convinced Ned, Cat and Luwin. And yes, the scar and how Arya got it was something I made up, to give Ned and Cat more of a reason to believe this is truly Arya. But you've got to say, having a crossbow accident sounds very much in character for Arya, doesn't it?**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	177. Owls of Athena Chapter 1 V1

**When I first made the announcement I was considering a _Tokyo Ghoul_ fic in my _Elfen Lied_ crossover _Children of the Revolution_ , at least two people suggested that I do a Harry/Eto pairing. I was kind of vaguely aware of who Eto was, despite not having gone that far in the manga, but after working on _Raptor of the 20th Ward_ (which is still being worked on, alongside _Prodigal Daughter_ ), I decided to see whether I could do such a thing, doing some quick research using the wiki of _Tokyo Ghoul_ , along with watching clips on Youtube, and discussions with Arawn D Draven. I decided that I could possibly do the story, with Eto being raised by a Potterverse character, so that any OOCness could be attributed to a different upbringing. She's still somewhat psychotic, but she also has a moral compass.**

 **My initial thought was to have Remus Lupin raise her, but I didn't think it quite fit with what I wanted to do with Eto. Instead, I decided on an unusual, but I think workable choice: Ollivander. I could work in that Eto was actually his great-granddaughter, she'd be familiar with Magical Britain without going to Hogwarts (her mother was a Squib in this story), and there's quite a few opportunities for her to get to know Harry, especially while he's staying in the Leaky Cauldron prior to Third Year.**

 **Also, for this story, as often happens in Potterverse crossovers with _Tokyo Ghoul_ , Harry is a One-Eyed Ghoul...though he's actually a quarter-Ghoul, as you'll see if the story continues. Yeah, it's a cliche making him a Ghoul, One-Eyed or not. I'm hoping it works...**

 **EDIT (November 15, 2018): After some considerable thought, I decided to go back and start, more or less, from scratch on this story.**

* * *

 _ **OWLS OF ATHENA (ORIGINAL)  
**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **AWAKENING**

 _"You are sure?"_

 _"Of course I'm sure. Thanks to V, I've had to kill her mother. I can't raise her myself, and the alternative, bringing her to an acquaintance of mine in the 24_ _th_ _Ward, isn't much better."_

 _"You know, I am sorely tempted to kill you for what you did to my granddaughter, or subject you to the Cruciatus. But there are worse things than death. I can see the remorse eating you up inside. It will surely do so for the rest of your days."_

 _"Yes. It will. Still…give my daughter her mother's journal when she's old enough to understand."_

 _"I will. And she will continue to have the name her mother gave her."_

 _"Yes…it's a good name, isn't it? Eto…"_

* * *

"So, whaddya here for, girl? You look too young t'drink."

The teenaged girl with the messy green hair and similarly green eyes never quite lost her serene, dopey smile, though something behind her eyes hardened. She looked to be of Japanese extraction, despite her very unusual hair colour. "I'm drinking coffee, in case you didn't notice. And I'm actually doing research work for a book. I'm an author. Sen Takatsuki."

"You're too young t'be an author," the drunk man with a prominent gut retorted.

"Actually, I've heard of her," the bartender called over. "Are you the one who wrote _Dear Kafka?_ "

"Yes," the girl said, smiling at the bartender. "I'm doing research for my next book, and I heard about the mystery about the Riddle House. Little Hangleton's not the only place I've been to. I went to Aldbourne in Wiltshire a fortnight ago. Blame that old _Doctor Who_ episode(1)."

The drunk scoffed. "Don't go diggin' up what should be buried. Ol' Frank Bryce was the one who killed those people, even if th'police couldn' prove it. Just as well the old sod disappeared last year. Probably did the world a favour and offed himself."

"That's not very nice," Sen Takatsuki observed.

"It's the truth," the bartender said. "Old Frank wasn't the same since he came back from the war. Besides, nobody broke in, he was the only person with a spare key."

Sen Takatsuki spent the next little while listening to the various opinions (of varying shades on the inebriation spectrum) of the people in The Hanged Man pub. Eventually, the girl said, "Well, that was interesting. Still, I need to get going."

"D'you want me to walk you to yer car, girl?" the drunk man with the gut asked, with a rather unpleasant leer.

"No. I'm still on my Learner's Permit. And if you persist, _I will gut you like a fish_ ," Sen Takatsuki said, still with her somewhat serene smile. With that parting shot, she strutted out of the pub.

* * *

She was kind of hoping for the fat drunk to try something, if only because something about him rubbed her the wrong way. Then again, gutting him, while appealing, would only draw unnecessary and undue attention to her. Not that she wasn't going to do so already, given what she suspected would happen tonight, but there was stuff that was necessary.

She walked around the village, carefully aware of whether anyone was watching. Her nostrils flared as she smelled the air, before her smile widened. Not far from here was the cottage of the late and, as far as the other inhabitants of Little Hangleton were concerned, unlamented Frank Bryce.

She suspected she knew who was really the responsible party for the murders of the Riddle Household. And it wasn't Frank Bryce. He was just the patsy the walking larders had latched on. No, she suspected magic was involved, especially as she knew, thanks to Gramps, that a certain Tom Marvolo Riddle Junior was actually the infamous warlock Voldemort.

She went into the cottage, and then opened up a Mokeskin pouch she kept in her clothes. Placing it on the ground, she then began stripping off her clothes. Once that was done, she stood there, for a moment, naked, before reaching into the pouch, and pulling out what looked like a few rolls of bandages. She brushed her hand over a symbol on the ends of the rolls, and the bandages came to life, wriggling and writhing through the air like snakes, like worms, wrapping themselves around her body, until the girl who had called herself Sen Takatsuki resembled a mummy from a Hammer Horror film, only her eyes and mouth exposed. A maroon dress went over that, one with a hood, and a floral scarf.

"Hmm, I'll have to thank Gramps again for enchanting those bandages. It saves so much time. A pity I am a Squib like my mother…" Suddenly, from her discarded clothes, there was a tinny piece of music: _Ready to Die_ by Andrew WK(2). Clicking her tongue in irritation, she picked it out and answered it. "Hello?"

"… _It's me. He's disappeared from the maze at the end of the Third Task, and with a passenger: Diggory._ "

She sighed quietly. "He's dead. The moment they spot an extra, they'll kill him. I'll be heading to the graveyard. If I'm lucky, they'll all be there."

" _Will Harry still be alive?_ "

"Hopefully. Voldemort would love to gloat. He's like a Bond villain. I'll have to swoop in and rescue him. And I intend to bring him into the Owls of Athena."

"… _Is that wise? You know what most people think of your kind, to say nothing about the Unspeakables, to say nothing of those who associate or assist you_ …"

"He needs more. His life is on the line here, and it's about time. I'll go and help him. See ya." And with that, the girl hung up. "…Ah, Harry. You do get yourself into trouble, don't you? The Philosopher's Stone, the Basilisk, the Dementors, and now, the Tri-Wizard Tournament." She placed the phone in her Mokeskin pouch, and put that into her dress. "The time has come, though, for you to understand what I want for the world…"

* * *

Harry Potter was not having a good time. He'd been kidnapped by his nemesis, who was currently gloating while speaking to his Death Eaters, Cedric Diggory was now a corpse, and he was tied to a bloody gravestone with a bleeding arm. In short, he was having a bad time, and it was sure to get worse before it got better. Assuming it DID get better, anyway. Harry's life was a roller-coaster one to be sure with bipolar luck, but at this point, it looked like it was all downhill from here.

Every year, every bloody year, he had some trial or travail to overcome. There was that business with Quirrellmort and the Philosopher's Stone in his first year, the Basilisk and Lockhart in his second year (not to mention learning he was a Parselmouth), the Dementors, Sirius Black and Pettigrew in his third year…and now, the Tri-Wizard Tournament this year, with most of the school turning their back on him, even Ron, his supposed best friend, at least until the First Task.

Well, he couldn't talk about turning his back on friends, not after what happened at the Quidditch World Cup, and he learned something shocking about one of his longest friends, one he had made shortly before even going to Hogwarts. He'd turned his back on her, denouncing her as a monster, despite everything they'd done, despite every kindness they had exchanged. He had forgotten how she had rescued him from being pulled into an impromptu photoshoot with Lockhart, their first date at Florean Fortescue's, her birthday gift of her first novel, albeit written under a pseudonym…and he had nearly ruined that in fear and loathing. It wasn't until shortly before Halloween that they reconciled. And just as well.

He remembered how she looked during the Yule Ball, smiling at him with that lazy little smile, and knew that she was not a monster. Or rather, more to the point, she was a monster he would never have to worry about. They spoke a lot about each other, and he was grateful that Rita Skeeter never heard what they spoke about. He knew she wasn't truly sane, that her sense of morality was fairly loose…but she was a good person in the end.

Sometimes, he could imagine what it was like to be her. He had often been hungry since he could remember, and chalked it down to being often underfed by the Dursleys. It was a dull hunger, one never satisfied, and to tell the truth, he was never one to gorge himself on food either, especially after seeing his uncle and cousin do so. But he needed something. Something he couldn't define. But it didn't feel like anything she had described.

He was glad he could reconcile with her. It meant one less regret, even if he would regret dying like Cedric, and leaving her behind. Not that he particularly wanted to die. For all Dumbledore's guff about death being the next great adventure or whatever he said at the end of Harry's first year before sending him back to the Dursleys, Harry would prefer to live.

Voldemort was getting to the climax of his speech, when he was interrupted by a sudden barrage of sanguine-coloured crystalline shards, many killing Death Eaters outright, a few just injuring them, with Voldemort getting a shard digging into his shoulder. "Who dares…?!"

An eerie chuckle echoed through the graveyard, childlike. "I do…Tom Marvolo Riddle Junior."

Harry knew that voice almost instantly, despite the tone, and the eerie echoes. But Voldemort didn't. Though the speaking of his birth name enraged the newly-resurrected warlock. "There is nobody by that name here!" he blustered.

An ethereal giggle followed, seemingly from the other end of the graveyard to where the original position of the voice was. "Oh, so you prefer your _nom de guerre_? That's fine, so do I. Would you like to know it, Lord Voldemort?"

"Why would I need to know the title of a soon-to-be corpse?" Voldemort demanded, before he hastily erected a shield charm, as did the other Death Eaters. The ones who didn't suddenly got sprayed with more crystalline shards.

"I could say the same thing…when it comes to my food…"

Voldemort seemed to get the implications quickly. "A Ghoul…why is a Ghoul attacking us?"

"Why not? Maybe you've heard of my work at the Quidditch World Cup, when your former sycophants decided to riot. I have to say, Mr MacNair was delicious for a xenophobic fool!" That last sentence was delivered in a childish sing-song tone. Suddenly, a tendril lashed out of the darkness, bisecting a couple of Death Eaters. A few lost their nerve, and Apparated away then and there. Voldemort fired a Killing Curse in the direction the tendril had come from, and the Ghoul sang out, "Miiisssed meeeee!"

More crystalline shards fired out of the darkness, some coming for Harry. He grimaced, waiting for the impact…but the pain didn't come. Instead, his bonds had come undone, the magically-conjured ropes. For now, Voldemort didn't notice, and neither did the other Death Eaters. Then, he heard the Ghoul screech, "Run for your life!"

Harry knew that it was meant for him, and he dashed over to Cedric's corpse, and then cast an Accio on the Tri-Wizard Cup. Voldemort noticed at the last moment, and fired off a Killing Curse with a roar…

But it was too late…

* * *

Some hours later, Harry was exhausted. Dealing with Voldemort, and then, coming back, dealing with Barty Crouch Junior (who had been disguised as Moody the whole time), a Dementor Kissing the same, Fudge not believing in Voldemort's return, and Harry having to rest. He said that a Ghoul had attacked…but he didn't give any details as to who it was. Because he knew who it was.

So, instead, he slept, until he was woken by a gentle shaking. "Oh, Harryyyy," sang a familiar voice.

Had he not known who it was, the bandage-wrapped face would have startled him, especially with the eyes peering out at him, one green, the other red with black sclera. Like the eyes were reverse images of each other. He spoke her name, but quietly.

"I managed to intercept a certain scruffy mutt," she said quietly, her voice more serious. "They're waiting for you."

"But…Madam Pomfrey…"

"Gramps has already dealt with her. Just a moment. Dobby? Bring us to the Room of Requirement."

Dobby appeared without much preamble, and said, "Yes Miss Eat-No." And then, with a snap of his fingers, Harry was suddenly lying on a couch, in what could have been the Gryffindor common room. On a nearby couch sat Sirius…and on another sat Ollivander, a blonde with rather wide pale eyes…and Hermione.

This last one was a surprise to Harry. And yet, here she was. Before he could ask, the bandaged girl said, as she undid the bandages around her face, "I brought Hermione into my confidence some time ago. She actually started corresponding with me shortly after we had our little fight. She was instrumental in getting me to calm down. She surprised me, given that she seems the sort to kowtow to authority, but hey, I guess she's called the brightest witch of her generation for a reason." Her bandages hung around her neck, revealing her distinctive messy mane of green hair, and her sleepy eyes, one with a green eye, and one with the distinctive Crimson Eye of a Ghoul.

"I've cleared away the Wrackspurts, that's why," the blonde girl said.

Hermione shot the blonde girl a look. "You had nothing to do with it, Luna."

"…Thanks, Eto, for saving my life," Harry said quietly.

"You're welcome." Her more childish demeanour from earlier was mostly gone, and a more gentle smile touched her lips. "I was in Little Hangleton, because I had this notion that, if Voldemort was going to try something, it'd be tonight. Voldemort fled with his tail between his legs, as did Pettigrew and Malfoy…but I had Gramps Portkey the bodies to cold storage. I doubt that Amelia Bones would be able to get by Fudge in trying to take greater measures against the Death Eaters. But…the old dog here has finally plucked up the courage to admit something verrryyyy interesting."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"Eto, he's been through enough tonight," Sirius said. "We should wait until…"

"Until what?" Eto asked. "Do you think he will ever be ready?" She plucked out a notebook, old and tattered, from her clothes and waved it pointedly. "I would never have been ready to read my mother's journal, of why she died, of V and the sort of man my father was. But sometimes, you have to know, even if you're not ready. Gramps," she indicated Ollivander with her hand, "at least knew this. And Harry needs every advantage he can get against Voldemort, and you know it."

"Even if it means being ostracised by Magical Britain?" Sirius asked.

Ollivander cleared his throat. "Knowing Cornelius as I do, he and that ghastly Senior Undersecretary of his are probably going to engage in a smear campaign, no doubt encouraged by Lucius Malfoy," the older man said. "Cornelius would rather do anything than accept Voldemort's return, and Umbridge is effectively a Death Eater groupie, I believe the term is. Sometimes, heroes live long enough to see themselves becoming villains, even if only in the public eye."

Hermione grimaced, before she turned to Harry. "Harry…know that I won't think any less of you because of this. I will only think less of you if…you do something unforgivable."

Sirius nodded, before he finally dropped the bombshell. "There's no easy way to say this, Harry. But…Lily was like Eto. She was a One-Eyed Ghoul. And through her, so are you…"

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Well, quite a few bombshells. Eto's Ollivander's great-granddaughter, she's been friends with Harry for a while…and Harry is a One-Eyed Ghoul, as was his mother.**

 **Yeah, I know Harry as a Ghoul, One-Eyed or otherwise, has been done quite a lot. Deal with it.**

 **Eto, I decided, has a better moral compass than she did in** ** _Tokyo Ghoul_** **canon. She's still more than a little psychotic, and she's still running a shadowy organisation, with the eventual goal of dealing with V, but dealing with Death Eaters takes priority. But she's also a fundamentally decent person.**

 **1\. Aldbourne was the filming location for the classic** ** _Doctor Who_** **story** ** _The Daemons_** **, where it became Devil's End.**


	178. Owls of Athena Chapter 2 V1

**So...here's the second chapter of _Owls of Athena_. Whether it becomes a full fic or not, I don't know, but I should point out that, while no details are actually shown, we have a certain character from _Tokyo Ghoul_ torturing a Ghoul...no, it's not Jason. It's everyone's favourite effeminate albino self-stitching boy, Juuzou Suzuya. Anyway, fair warning, so if you don't like even allusions to torture...this chapter isn't for you.**

 **Speaking of _Tokyo Ghoul_ crossovers, _Raptor of the 20th Ward_ is now a full story. Go check it out.**

* * *

 _ **OWLS OF ATHENA (ORIGINAL)  
**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **THE GHOUL WHO LIVED**

 _As Ollivander measured him for his first wand, Harry heard a voice. "Oh, is this Harry Potter?"_

 _Harry turned to see a curious face peering at him from behind the shelves. A mass of messy green hair framed pretty, if sleepy-looking features. Her green eyes were like his own, but with the distinctive epicanthic folds of an Oriental Asian. She seemed about his age._

 _"Yes, Eto," Ollivander said, before looking at Harry and Hagrid. "This is my great-granddaughter, Eto Ollivander. Her mother died, and her father was unable to look after her."_

 _"I'd heard yer adopted a kid, Mr Ollivander," Hagrid rumbled. "Didn' know it were yer own great-granddaughter."_

 _"Yes. My youngest daughter married a Japanese Pureblood, but one of their daughters, Ukina, turned out to be a Squib, and she was disowned and cast out, much to my displeasure. Ukina became a journalist, but she was murdered soon after Eto's birth by enemies she made as a journalist," Ollivander said._

 _Eto scowled, but went over to Harry, peering at him curiously. "…You don't know what to do, do you? You never knew you were the Boy Who Lived until now?" she asked softly._

 _"…No."_

 _"…You seem awfully lonely. Oh! I know! Maybe we can be penpals! I may not be able to use magic, but I can use Owl Post! Do you want to write letters?"_

 _The thing was, with Eto, it wasn't hero worship or being starstruck by a celebrity that drove her, Harry realised subconsciously. She seemed to be more curious about him, and wanting to be his friend. So, he accepted, chatting with her as they went through checking wands. When he finally got the wand, and left, he still felt a bit uneasy, given Ollivander's remark about his wand…but Eto had helped. Maybe he had his first friend_ …

* * *

That revelation, left Harry utterly dumbstruck. He opened his mouth, to utter an angry denial, a demand that they not make such a sick joke…but Ollivander held up his hand. "Mr Potter," the old man said. "Please, listen to Mr Black before you say anything. I understand that this would be overwhelming at best, and at worst, inconceivably distressing. I had my own suspicions about your mother, albeit ones I couldn't confirm. When I saw you, acting normally, I thought them wrong."

"But…if I'm a part-Ghoul, how come I'm not hungering for human flesh?" Harry asked, trying to find any handle on the situation.

"That was Lily's doing. I should start at the beginning. Lily…was born as a result of an affair between your grandfather and a Ghoul he knew. Normally, most half-Ghouls die in the womb, either dying from a lack of nutrients if the mother is human, or being absorbed into the mother's body as nutrients if the mother is a Ghoul. But…the woman, who worked at a mortuary your grandfather ran, miraculously carried Lily to term. We think that Lily's latent magical ability, from your father's side, kept her alive. After a lot of debate from both sides, Lily was adopted into the family, though her mother was eventually killed by the CCG. In order to suppress her hunger, Lily was regularly fed parts from the corpses in the mortuary. And then, her Hogwarts letter came along."

"Naturally-born One-Eyed Ghouls smell human to other Ghouls," Eto explained. "Even a werewolf can't tell the difference."

"Lily brought me into her confidence soon after she got married with James," Sirius continued. "It took me some time to accept her…though James was better about it. We didn't tell Moony because, at the time, we suspected him of being a spy for Voldemort, and we didn't tell the rat because his father had been killed by a Ghoul. Still…she often went out to kill Death Eaters, even eating them. She became feared as the Mongoose, and the CCG would have come down on her arse, hard, had she not been targeting Death Eaters. It's said she was the only Ghoul the British branch of the CCG ever toasted, if only because the CCG had been attacked by Death Eaters who wanted to recruit Ghouls to their cause. The few times she encountered Doves, she generally stunned them and sent them back. Sometimes, she pranked them first."

"The Mongoose also became infamous for targeting other Ghouls," Eto cooed. "Growing up, she became my hero. I didn't realise she was your mother, Harry…but I wish I did."

"…Why 'Mongoose'?" Harry asked.

"Because a mongoose eats snakes," Sirius explained. "And as snakes are a symbol of the Death Eaters, not to mention Slytherin…anyway, when she fell pregnant with you, she decided, just in case, to place a special charm on you. She noticed that her magic would suppress her hunger at times, so she created a charm that fed on your own magic to quell your Ghoul's hunger. She knew that if she died, there was a risk you wouldn't be able to feed as much as you needed to, even being a quarter Ghoul. That being said, the charm wasn't meant to be kept on indefinitely. The longer it's kept on, the greater the inevitable backlash when it does get removed, and by this point, the charm's decaying. Hell, I'm surprised it lasted this long, even with Lily's talent."

"When the charm fails or is removed, you'll inevitably feel a lot of hunger for human flesh," Ollivander said quietly. "Your magic may have kept it suppressed, and it will prevent as bad a backlash as it could be…but you'd need to feed."

Harry stiffened at that, and the implications. Ghouls, after all, were obligate cannibals, eating humans. And while One-Eyed Ghouls could eat normal food, he knew from Eto that they still needed to eat human flesh.

He didn't want to be a monster. What's more, he knew that if word of this ever got out, so many people would turn on him in an instant. And what if he hurt someone he cared about? He began to hyperventilate in fear.

Eto sat down next to Harry, and gently hugged him, the intimate gesture doing much to calm him down. "Hey…hey, it's okay, Harry. My…father, he gets food by using the corpses of suicide victims. And you know where I get my food from. Harry…none of those here care that you're part-Ghoul. You're a person, more of a person than any of those I prey upon. Hell, you're more sane than I am, though I think sanity's overraaaateeeed."

"I agree!" Luna said, nodding so eagerly, she would've gotten whiplash normally. "A little bit of insanity is needed to make the world a more interesting place. Little brother Juuzou agrees!"

"…Who?" Harry asked.

"When I was in Japan a couple of years back, I decided to raid the Ghoul Restaurant in the 7th Ward of Tokyo," Eto said. "There was this adorable little Scrapper called Juuzou, a bit barmy, but after going what he went through, who could blame him?"

"…Scrapper?" Harry asked, thinking almost instantly that he wouldn't like the answer. Judging by the rather strong grimaces of disgust on Hermione and Sirius' faces, he'd regret answering that. Then again, a Ghoul Restaurant sounded ominous.

"Bluntly, he's a cabaret performer in what is basically Grand Guignol. Some Ghouls like to watch humans get taken apart for food in a Ghoul Restaurant. Scrappers are those who do the dismantling. Personally, I find it very distasteful. I mean, can't they get other Ghouls to do that if they're going to do that at all? And I'd rather take apart my prey myself, not brainwash some poor kid to do it for me. Anyway, dear little Juuzou was someone I rescued. He's so adorable. Good with knives, too. He's practically a Dove, with how good he can kill a Ghoul if he wanted to. Unfortunately, I had him on a mission tonight…"

* * *

"…And there's of course the fact that George Lucas was _such_ an Akira Kurosawa fanboy. Hell, did you know he offered Toshiro Mifune the role of either Obi-Wan Kenobi or Darth Vader? That's what his daughter claims, anyway."

"GYYYAAARRGGGHHHH!"

"Oh come on, it's not that baaad. I could be cutting you up AND making you watch _The Phantom Menace_. That'd be cruel and VERY unusual punishment right there. Aren't you grateful for my mercy?"

"Ffffuck you, freak…"

The rather effeminate, albino young boy with the wide, doll-like eyes scowled at the Ghoul he was torturing. His voice, once lilting and feminine, was deadly serious, more serious than a boy his age had any right to be. "Freak," he said, testing out the word, pulling at his lower lip with a finger. "I'm curious, what's more freakish, the born freak, or the made freak? I guess it depends on what makes them freakish. You see, I used to be a pet, a Scrapper, once belonging to Big Madam of Tokyo. Now, I like to be…what was that word Big Sis Luna used? Ah, _philosophical_. I like to be _phil-o-soph-ic-al_ about what happened to me. Because if nothing else…it was educational. Big Madam made me very good at killing. And I'm good at taking people and monsters apart. Freaks are just those who are different from what's normal, and normal's boring anyway. For example, a symmetrical face is normal, and rather boring. So, let's see…gimme your eye!"

"NYAAAAAAAAARRRRGGHHHH!"

* * *

"Is it one of those things I'm better off not knowing about?" Hermione said.

"There was a Ghoul who abducted young kids in Shoreditch who wouldn't play ball when I told him politely to stop," Eto said with a shrug. "He was turning them into food or Scrappers for London's Ghoul Restaurant."

"…Knowing how Juuzou came into your care, I'm guessing he didn't take that well," Hermione said, grimacing.

"Oh, he took that **_very_** well. I basically gave him the Ghoul and said, 'Have fun'," Eto said. "It was like a belated birthday present for him, but it was worth the wait."

"…You give me signed copies of your books for my birthday…and you give this kid a torture victim, even if he's the worst sort of Ghoul," Harry said flatly.

Eto looked at him solemnly. "…Juuzou is not normal by any means. You try growing up in the environment he did and remain sane. I try to give him a normal life…but he's so eager to please me for saving him. Killing is all he ever knew. I'm just helping him channel that in a way that's helpful. Besides, the CCG would have recruited him if I hadn't, I'd bet. Now…Harry, we'll have to find a way to take the charm off you in a controlled environment, with a well-stocked supply of…well, meat."

"We'll use our home," Ollivander said. "It's heavily warded against the strength of Ghouls, and has a well-stocked larder. And if you're worried about the source, Mr Potter, we've divided them based on source: suicide victims, and criminals."

"And if Dumbledore wants you to go home to those…relatives of yours, then they can wait a day or two," Eto said. "Personally, I am sorely tempted to eat them, but given what little I've seen of them before when I went with the Weasleys to pick you up last year…well, I'm not fond of fatty foods. Or giraffe meat. And more importantly, their disappearances may draw undue attention to you. Especially if people suspect it to be a Ghoul's work. I'm sure one of Voldemort's minions have contacted the DMLE."

"Not the CCG?" Harry asked.

"They're Purebloods, Harry," Hermione said. "Would they contact a Muggle organisation? It'd either be the DMLE, or the Unspeakables…and that could be a problem. The Department of Mysteries in Magical Britain has been rumoured to take an especial interest in Ghouls, and none of it good."

Eto then gently hugged Harry again. "Harry…I promise you this: you are still Harry Potter. You still will be even once we remove the charm."

"Exactly," Hermione said. "You're my friend, and as long as you don't become an indiscriminate killer, then you'll remain so."

"Same here," Sirius said, and Luna and Ollivander nodded their agreements.

"It goes without saying, though, that you should keep your status as a part-Ghoul secret from as many people as possible," Hermione said. "The Weasleys are good, but they're not exactly the most open-minded of people, even for those who support Muggles. And anyway, to most people, all Ghouls are vicious flesh-eating monsters with no morality whatsoever."

"To be fair, there are a lot like that," Eto said. "But there are others who are just people cursed with a dark hunger. When I was in Japan last, I met a lovely couple called Asaki and Ryoko Fueguchi. Asaki only targets criminals, and Ryoko doesn't want to kill to eat. They have this adorable little girl called Hinami. But there are many who are the monsters most humans believe us to be." She looked at Harry. "You may not have a choice in what you have to eat, Harry…but you have a choice in the how you eat."

He didn't know what to say to that. He felt numb, hollow inside. After all these revelations, he didn't know what to think anymore. And the thing was, he didn't even have a choice in the matter, if what they said about his mother's charm decaying was true.

In the end, he said, "Can I just…sleep on this?"

They all nodded. "It's been a long day and a late night, for us all, I daresay," Ollivander said quietly. "We'll make arrangements."

Sirius nodded. "Dumbledore will want me to help revive the Order of the Phoenix, no doubt. Eto, I'll see if I can bring you in. Not into the Order, but into 12 Grimmauld Place."

"No…I have my own organisation to run. We will do what the Order cannot or will not. The Owls of Athena will ensure that Voldemort does not win over any Ghouls…and we will ensure that he is no longer a threat to Harry. That, I guarantee…"

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, revelations have been made. But will Harry be able to accept himself?**

 **Now, including Juuzou Suzuya was not my original intention for this story. But after seeing him in action during the fifth volume of the manga, to say nothing of seeing some of the clips of him in action on Youtube (especially that motorbike scene: "KONNNNNBAAAAAANNNN….WA!"), I felt he would fit in well with Eto's organisation, given that, well, Eto and Luna are part of it too. And for those of you who know enough about** ** _Tokyo Ghoul_** **to care…he was rescued from Big Madam a couple of years before being…shall we say 'gavelled'? He hasn't started doing his self-stitching thing yet, but give it time.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	179. Another Fine Mess Chapter 1 (Original)

**Ugh, bloody plot bunnies. Rest assured that _Prodigal Daughter_ and _Owls of Athena_ are still being worked on. However, this idea wouldn't leave me alone, and nor would a _Sekirei_ idea you might see here in the near future. Both ideas come, at least partially, from the challenges of whitetigerwolf. This one is my second stab at the 'Drunken Recruit' challenge. This is also my second Potterverse crossover with _GATE: Thus the JSDF Fought There_...and one that I intend to sidestep some of the harsher political elements of the story, as you'll see below, considering who's president of the US in this story.**

 **Also, while I don't intend to leave Tyuule in the lurch, she won't be part of the pairing this time. Hell, I'm seriously considering a harem, with Delilah and Yao frontrunners for being part of it. But that's early days yet...**

 **EDIT (30/10/18): Due to some dissatisfaction with the way the story was turning out, I originally decided to put the story on the backburner. But after some thought, and completing some chapters of _Worlds Apart_ , I decided to revisit _Another Fine Mess_..., and revise it substantially. I intend to change the beginning of the story to the day of the Ginza Incident, have Mari as Harry's relative, and potentially have a Harry/Shino/Tuka/Yao pairing.**

* * *

 _ **ANOTHER FINE MESS (ORIGINAL)...**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **HERE WE GO AGAIN**

"This is all your fault, you know."

A short but surprisingly buxom Japanese woman in her mid-twenties scowled at the one who spoke to her. "It's not my fault you can't handle your liquor. And quiet down, we've got to listen to the PM AND Lieutenant General Hazama before we go through."

The dark-haired European boy rolled his emerald eyes behind his glasses. Unlike most of those surrounding him, he wasn't dressed in combat uniform. He had a ballistics vest and a helmet (under which his scalp was getting mighty itchy), and an irritated moue to his lips. "He's not _my_ PM. Besides, as a _civilian_ contractor, as I believe the JSDF finally plumped on _officially_ calling me that, I retain the right to be disrespectful to the chain of command, Shino."

"That's Sergeant Kuribayashi to you, second cousin."

"Is Second Cousin a rank?" snarked the young man.

"Don't you sass me, brat."

"You're only five years older than me. Then again, if I was Japanese instead of an English gentleman, I'd be calling you a Christmas Cake(1)."

"Take that back! I'm only 24!" she hissed.

"Never," he said smugly.

"Anyway, the more popular term these days is 'New Year Noodles'," Shino retorted. "And watch your mouth, Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes again, but was quiet as the Japanese Prime Minister began some long-winded speech. He wasn't really interested, and truth be told, he'd probably be sent through a few days after the first lot of soldiers were deployed, given that he was, officially, a civilian contractor. In truth, he was, thanks to a drunken night out with his Japanese second cousin, the unofficial magical liaison officer for the JSDF, a post that, thanks to one rather brutal day in the Ginza district of Tokyo, had now become more important than ever.

It had happened after the war with Voldemort in Britain. Harry, in a desperate need to be anywhere but with the fame, had decided to see if he could find other family. The Goblins, after their anger over the break-in had been smoothed over (with a lot of Harry's gold), had agreed to a full inheritance test…and Harry had discovered, to his shock, that he had relatives in Japan. With his relationship with Ginny over, albeit on amicable terms (the spark that had been there during his sixth year had faded after her breaking up with him), and Teddy being raised by his grandmother, Harry opted to come over and meet his relatives, after being given a crash course in Japanese by Hermione, as well as how to cast a translation charm.

His mother had a half-Japanese cousin, which meant that Harry had two Japanese second cousins, Nanami and Shino Kuribayashi. Nanami was only a year older than him, and an aspiring TV reporter, while Shino was a soldier in the Japanese Self-Defence Forces. Thankfully, they were also aware of magic, as their father was actually a Squib who had been cast out of the family. They were unaware that they were, albeit distantly, related to the infamous Harry Potter, and spent some time getting to know him. It culminated in Shino persuading Harry to have drinks with her in a bar…and about the only good things Harry could say about that night was that he didn't end up sleeping with Shino, and that nobody got injured or killed…though one rather belligerent man by the name of Major Osamu Higaki's dignity took a fatal blow.

The upshot was, the next morning, Harry woke up in Major Higaki's office with a splitting hangover, sprawled on a graffiti-infested desk, while a goat chewed on paperwork and a few Japanese officers looked at him with various degrees of amusement, bemusement and belligerence. The crux of the problem wasn't quite the whole vandalism thing: Harry had vandalised Higaki's office because his cousin had been bitching about a major 'with a fifty metre stick where the sun don't shine', and Higaki was one of those officers whose usefulness and competence, sadly, far outstripped his geniality. He was an unpleasant pedant who kissed arse with his superiors, and chewed out the arses of his inferiors.

No, the crux of the problem was that Harry managed to sneak into a fairly well-guarded JSDF base, and wasn't even noticed until the next morning. Given these post-9/11 times, as well as increasing tensions with North Korea, to have someone sneaking into the office of an officer was understandably a problem. Things got trickier when Harry learned that many officers in the JSDF were aware of magic, and Lieutenant General Hazama and his ADC, 1st Lieutenant Yanagida, were both aware of his reputation.

Officially, in order to smooth things over, Harry was invited to become a civilian contractor with the JSDF. Unofficially, especially given the dubious legalities involved, Harry had become a magical consultant for the JSDF. Basically, he'd been conscripted, with that smarmy sod Yanagida citing his 'experience in dealing with magical warfare'. They weren't going to keep him in the JSDF for long, just long enough to have him consult on counter-wizard strategies in case someone like Voldemort ever arose in Japan.

And then, the Gate appeared, throwing those plans to the wind.

It had been about a week since the disastrous pub crawl that led to this. The Kuribayashis and Harry were on a shopping trip, partly to cheer Harry up about what happened. They were in Shinjuku, when they started hearing news about something happening in Ginza. Shino and Harry rushed back to the JSDF base, only to find that it was a moot point: the police and the JSDF had handled the situation…only, what a bizarre situation it was.

Even now, many were calling it the new September 11. What looked like a Greco-Roman gateway seemed to materialise within the Ginza District, before it soon disgorged an army. And not just any army, but an army seemingly made up of Roman soldiers, orcs, ogres, and even dragon-riders. Even now, the civilian casualty figures were still being confirmed, with over three hundred confirmed dead, and scores missing, some even thought to have been abducted by the invading army, due to eyewitness accounts having some of the invaders abduct civilians, particularly women. There'd also been a number of incidents of rape. The police and the JSDF wiped out the invaders, capturing a few of them alive. Japanese Ministry of Magic officials interrogated them using Legilimency.

What they managed to gain from them was interesting…and disturbing. These men came from another world called Mondas(2), specifically from a continent called Falmart. They were soldiers of the Saderan Empire, led by Emperor Molt Sol Augustus. And they wanted to invade to subjugate any lands they came across, take prisoners as slaves and loot whatever treasures they could find. All in the name of spreading 'civilisation', or at least their version.

Of course, mounting any kind of punitive expedition through the Gate was tricky, to say the least, especially with the legalities involved. Article 9 of the Japanese constitution, after all, forbade the Japanese from going to war, with their military purely used for self-defence, hence the title Self-Defence Forces. The politicians, though, with assistance from the United States, had managed to find a way around this. Harry, incidentally, was glad Obama won, and not that wanker Dirrell.

All of which meant that Harry, while technically a civilian contractor, had to undergo some training at the JSDF, something Shino took perverse and sadistic delight in, acting as a belligerent sergeant major or a drill sergeant from a film, somewhere between William Hartnell and R Lee Ermey(3). He got back at her, though, with a few pranks (one of which basically meant Transfiguring her BDU into Samus Aran's Zero Suit from _Metroid_ , much to the appreciation of resident otakus 1st Lieutenant Itami and Sergeant Kurata) reminding her that he had gone through worse than Basic Training, and he didn't appreciate her attitude. And Harry could handle the training. After living rough while on the run from the Death Eaters, Basic Training was a doddle by comparison.

Soon, the Prime Minister finished his speech, and Hazama took the stage. His speech, thankfully, was considerably more laconic than the Prime Minister's. Soon, the troops were ready to go through. "Oi, Shino, good luck!" he called out to his cousin, as she boarded an APC, with him going to be on a vehicle bringing up the rear.

"We're facing off against Roman soldiers who haven't even learned how to create gunpowder. Hell, the first expedition through wiped out the army there," Shino said, her face an odd mixture of anticipation and pity towards the enemy…well, those who weren't in the raping and pillaging business. "They're the ones who need luck…"

* * *

A few hours later, Harry was at a desk in a tent, poring over reports. The JSDF base in this world had been established on a place the natives called Alnus Hill, and scouts had reported a substantial army coming their way. While Harry might be called upon to fight in certain situations, pitched battle wasn't one of them. So, instead, he was being kept out of the way, until the battles were done, and to be honest, it was a relief. He'd been briefed by 1st Lieutenant Akira Yanagida that he would probably be sent along with one of the reconnaissance teams that they would be sending out to gather more intelligence about Falmart, as well as begin a 'hearts and minds' campaign amongst the populace. Hopefully, that wouldn't backfire.

He was looking at the reports of what the Ministry officials managed to glean from the heads of the invaders. There were multiple non-human species living here, more or less openly as opposed to home. The Elves here were the classic Elves of fantasy, High Elves and Dark Elves, as opposed to House Elves, and, much to the delight of the otakus, there were beings who looked like humans, but with animal-like traits. There were Catgirls, Dragonids, Bunny Warriors, and so on.

Of course, of considerable concern were the deities of this world, who were apparently very real, and their Apostles. Apostles were regular beings who, in exchange for a 1000 years of service to their chosen deity, were given immortal bodies and superhuman abilities. One of those whom the Japanese Ministry had used Legilimency on had encountered the Apostle of Emroy, the local god of war and calamity. This Apostle was Rory Mercury, who, by Earth standards, looked like a 13 year old girl wearing Gothic Lolita-style clothes, though apparently they were priestess vestments here. She was obviously one they had to look out for, just in case she took umbrage. Of course, she could also be a potential ally, even if a fickle one.

In a perverse way, coming to Falmart actually felt like a fresh start for Harry, even if he was going to be in a warzone. Ever since the fall of Voldemort, Harry had had enough of Magical Britain and its fickleness, its mercurial nature towards its heroes. True, the flaws of wizards were merely those of humanity, magnified, and humanity had a tendency to demonize its heroes. But he despised being on the receiving end, and knew that the gratitude he received was hollow. He only really trusted his surviving friends, and frankly, they had lives of their own, now.

Here, there was an entire world to explore, new people to meet, without preconceived notions of who the Boy Who Lived was. Plus, he had to admit, when she wasn't dragging him into trouble, Shino was a fun relative to be around. She was like his big sister rather than his second cousin, and he badly needed that familial connection.

His mind went to one of the key personnel here, 1st Lieutenant Yoji Itami. The Hero of Ginza, he was called, because of his heroic actions during Ginza, saving a police officer from one of the soldiers attacking, as well as helping with the evacuation and getting people safely into the Imperial Palace. Harry's impression of him was…well, he was like Ron. Lazy, indolent, and coasting by on life. But, when push came to shove, he does the right thing, and did it well. Still a major otaku, though, and he was a JSDF reservist (basically their equivalent of the Territorial Army back in Britain), promoted to 1st Lieutenant because of his actions in Ginza.

Shino didn't like him, and that impression only increased when Harry did some digging, and found out that Itami had actually gone through Ranger and Special Forces training. The fact that he only scraped by into said qualifications did little to reassure her. She'd gone on an amusing rant about how someone so lazy couldn't have possibly have done something so badass. Personally, Harry thought that his cousin was in denial.

Still, it looked like things would be pretty hectic for a while. Maybe something interesting would come along…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry's a 'civilian consultant' with the JSDF. Well, chaos is going to ensue. There'll be a timeskip to when the 3** **rd** **Recon Team heads out…**

 **1\. 'Christmas Cake' is an infamous Japanese pejorative term for women over 25, deriving from the fact that nobody wants Christmas Cake past the 25** **th** **of December. Apparently 'New Year Noodles' has become more popular lately, but with similar connotations, only with over-31s being insulted.**

 **2\. I used Mondas as a placeholder name for the Special Region world in my** ** _Star Wars_** **crossover** ** _GATE: Thus the Chosen One Fought There_** **, so I decided to use it here. Mondas sounds rather like 'Mundas', a Latin name for the world, and was used as the name of the first Cyberman homeworld from** ** _Doctor Who: The Tenth Planet_** **.**

 **3\. R Lee Ermey, of course, infamously played Gunnery Sergeant Hartman from Fullmetal Jacket. William Hartnell, before he became known as the First Doctor in Doctor Who, was notoriously typecast as sergeant majors or criminal thugs, something that he thought Doctor Who was a relief from.**


	180. Another Fine Mess Chapter 2 (Original)

**So, some support for this. I do wish to make a few points clear. One reviewer pointed out the exposition, but I did need to give an idea of what happened in the first episode. However, I wasn't going to write out the Ginza attack verbatim, as many other fanfic writers have done before, or else the crossover equivalent.**

 **Also, I'm reconsidering the pairing. The way Harry is developing, I am actually seriously considering pairing Harry with Pina, potentially with either Delilah or Yao thrown into the mix as well. Pina, as a pairing possibility, didn't appeal to me at the time I conceived the fic, but now, I'm not so sure. Harry and Pina do have a few similarities (the expectations of their station, leading an ad hoc army, having to fight to be taken seriously), but Harry, by this point, is seasoned enough to be a mentor figure of sorts. Plus, Potters and their redheads, you know?**

 **Also, to address the guest reviewer's points, I meant a Harry Potter/ _Sekirei_ crossover, not a _GATE/Sekirei_ crossover. That being said, I did discuss such a story concept briefly with Arawn D Draven, before deciding against it. A Tyuule/Homura pairing, though, is an intriguing one. Though I think Karasuba would actually be more up Emroy's alley in some regards. I'd imagine Karasuba giving Rory the best fight she ever had for ages...**

 **EDIT: A couple of you want Harry/Tuka. While I admit that's an adorable pairing, there's the little problem that Tuka's a lesbian, though she may be bisexual at a stretch (she IS canonically attracted to Itami), and her character isn't quite that interesting (beyond being, well, a hot blonde Elf with daddy issues). I'm actually going to go with the two being really good friends. Maybe they might experiment, but at the moment, they will have a close, but platonic friendship. And that might actually be more interesting, especially with the way the whole Hodor thing has ended up.  
**

* * *

 _ **ANOTHER FINE MESS (ORIGINAL)...**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **THE 3** **RD** **RECON TEAM**

Harry grimaced as he looked at the bloody battlefield that was once the slopes of Alnus Hill, early in the morning after the last massive battle. He'd seen death many times, but never on this scale, not outside documentaries about war and mass murder like the Holocaust. And it was his first time seeing so many bodies.

Shino was standing next to him, her assault rifle at the ready, her expression grim. "Bloody hell," she muttered. "Last casualty count was 60 thousand dead. We're still counting the POWs we captured."

"Molt Sol Augustus had to know he was sending them into a massacre," Harry said. "The returning troops must've said something. But these soldiers…they seem to be using different flags…" Suddenly, he heard a groan from nearby, and rushed over to one body, a burly, older man, missing his left arm and leg, an eyepatch askew, his hair and beard greying. "Hey! Medic!" he yelled.

The medic that approached was a tall Japanese woman called Mari Kurokawa. She hurried over, and checked the man, and grimaced, calling on her radio for a stretcher. "We need to get him help. He's lucky, his wounds were cauterised partly by the heat of the shrapnel. Talk to him, Harry."

Harry nodded. He'd learned that the translation charm Hermione taught him worked for the language of this world, and was apparently a mangled version of Greek and Latin. Casting it on himself, he spoke to the man. " _Hello, can you understand me?_ "

The man opened his one eye blearily. "… _Who are you? Gods? Demons?_ "

" _No, we're the people Molt Sol Augustus pissed off by invading through the Gate. Who are you?_ "

"… _King Duran of the Elbe Kingdom_ ," the man rasped. " _The Emperor…he sent us here to die, didn't he?_ "

" _I don't know. You tell me._ "

Before Duran could reply, the stretcher party came along, and Duran was put onto it. " _Don't worry_ ," Harry said. " _We'll give you medical treatment. If you cooperate with us, you'll be well-treated._ "

As Duran was taken away, Mari looked at Harry. "Well?"

"Hit the jackpot there, apparently. He claims to be King Duran of the Elbe Kingdom. Probably one of the Empire's vassal states," Harry said. "The way he spoke, he thinks the Emperor sent him and his men to die at the hands of the JSDF. Maybe we have someone we can get intel from."

Mari nodded, and hurried off, after her latest patient. Shino sighed quietly. "Seriously…I'd feel sorry for them if they hadn't killed or raped or abducted those civilians."

"These are the vassal states. They didn't do that. Besides, I doubt that every soldier in this Empire is a rapist."

"Maybe. Still, why are they Romans?"

"Ah, well, the Ministry gave me leave to contact some of my friends. Hermione gave me an idea. Apparently, during the Roman Empire, at least one legion famously went missing, the Ninth Legion. And who's to say the Gate hasn't appeared before? The POWs back in Japan believed that. Said something about the local death goddess Hardy having a hand. Also, something else." Nearby was a corpse of a wyvern, the small dragons ridden by some of the soldiers here, and he gestured Shino to it. "Dragon parts are prized in the magical world as you know, but apparently, the scales here? They go for a lot of the local money according to the reports." He managed to rip away one of the scales, and handed it to Shino. "Feel that."

She did, frowning. "It feels a bit like the trauma plate in ballistic vests. Except lighter."

"Exactly. Those things stood up to anything short of 50 calibre rounds at Ginza. I don't think even the dragons back home were this tough," Harry said. "Still…the Emperor sent this many men to their deaths…bastard."

"Hey, this is war, Harry. They killed all those people at Ginza, and wanted to enslave us. If they bothered to retreat instead of running headfirst into gunfire…" Shino looked grimly over the battlefield. " _Dulce et decorum pro patria mori_ my arse(1). It's one thing to fight to protect one's country, but this…ugh. I like a good fight, but this doesn't feel right to me. Gimme some rapist douche to beat the crap out of…"

* * *

Partway through undressing for his session with Tyuule, ex-Queen of the Bunny Warriors, Prince Zorzal El Caesar sneezed twice, and frowned. He hoped he wasn't coming down with something. Tyuule, on the other hand, sincerely wished he was. Maybe if he had the flu, he wouldn't be able to muster up the energy to rape her…

* * *

Later that morning, Harry, Shino, Mari and a few others were ordered to line up, ready to become part of the 3rd Recon Team. The second in command was a grizzled older Sergeant Major by the name of Souichirou Kuwahara. Harry recognised Sergeant Takeo Kurata, a young and eager otaku, Sergeant Akira Tomita, a tall, burly man who was very much a gentle giant, and Private Furuta Hitoshi, a tall, thin young man with a serene expression and who was apparently an ex-cook.

And coming out to meet them with a lazy expression was Itami. He was a bit scruffy, but Harry had grown to like him, partly because he reminded him of Ron, and partly because Itami, when he wasn't geeking out over something, was a very amiable and personable guy. Harry didn't listen to the rambling, very unprofessional speech that Itami gave, but he heard Shino groaning in disgust and annoyance.

As they drove out to one of the nearby villages, Coda, Harry found himself in the same jeep as Itami, Kurata, Mari and Kuwahara, Shino refusing to get into the same vehicle as Itami. As they drove off, Itami looked back at Harry, who was wearing a helmet and a bulletproof vest, though the only sidearm he was wielding was a magnum pistol. "So, we never really got to talk about this while in the JSDF base…but I was told you're a wizard, and some hero back in Britain?" Most of the JSDF spoke fairly good English, due to having done joint exercises with the US Army. Though Harry also managed to speak Japanese well enough now to be able to converse with them sans translation charm.

"Yeah. Not really sure I can call myself a hero, though. I just killed people who wanted me dead."

"I was briefed on this. This is all hush-hush stuff, can't speak about it to even other groups," Kuwahara said. "Some warlock, a wizard neo-Nazi terrorist called Voldemort orphaned Harry at the age of one. However, Voldemort somehow survived being killed, and came back from the grave a few years back before Harry put him down for good. Isn't that right, Harry?"

"Yeah. All those terrorist attacks in Britain between 2006 and 2008? Many of them weren't Al Qaeda or gang wars," Harry said bitterly. "Some of my best friends died during that mess. Too many people died. I'm not sure I want to say anything more about it."

"Hey, it's cool," Itami said quietly. "And the Brits expected a teenager to kill this guy?"

"I was the Boy Who Lived for surviving something my parents didn't," Harry said. "They were either holding me up as the second coming of Merlin, or making me out to be Voldemort's successor…"

* * *

They found their way to Coda, and as Harry's ability to speak to local language, courtesy of the translation charm, was better, he was sent to negotiate, as well as ask about maps of the area. He also learned, after revealing he was a wizard to the villagers, that a couple of mages lived nearby, Cato El Athelstan and his apprentice, Lelei La Lalena. Harry made a mental note to speak to them later, but apparently there was a High Elf settlement in a nearby forest, and Itami was to try and make contact with them and establish friendly relations. They'd head back to Coda later.

Harry decided to ignore Itami and Kurata's spirited debate about who had the best 'waifu', until they started singing the song to some inane magical girl anime called _Mei-Com_. "Oh, stop torturing those cats, you two!" Harry snapped irritably. He liked Itami, but while he liked some anime, others he didn't.

"Hey, that's no way to speak to your superior officer!" Itami barked at Harry, albeit good-naturedly. "Anyway, aren't you excited to meet Elves and Catgirls and whatnot?"

"Well, yeah. But I don't go on and on about it. We don't exactly have those in Britain. The sexiest magical creatures we have are Veela, and you don't want to get on their bad side. They're like a mix of Siren and Harpy who can use fire magic with ease."

"Hey, Harry," Kurata said, "best waifu in anime. Who would it be for you?"

Harry grimaced, before he eventually said, "Toss-up between Saber or Rider from _Fate/Stay Night_. Saber because she's King Arthur as a girl in her late teens, and I'm British, and Rider because, well, she's Medusa. Sexy Medusa too. Plus, I can speak to snakes. She'd probably get a kick out of that."

"Seriously?" Mari asked. "You can talk to snakes?"

"Long story. Short version? I got a bit of Voldemort's soul in my skull, and while that got removed, the ability to speak to snakes remained," Harry said. "Anyway, Shino actually got me _Fate/Stay Night_ , the visual novel, to have a go at playing. Cool story. Though really, the writers are fucked up in the head."

"How so?" Kurata said.

"Two words: _Crest Worms_." Harry shuddered at the imagery on display with those disgusting things…

* * *

Later that evening, they were approaching the Koan Forest where the High Elf settlement was supposed to be, but they saw a plume of smoke in the distance, a massive plume that all but blotted out the sky. They soon pulled over, and the 3rd Recon Team looked over at the forest. Harry was the first to spot the cause. "Holy fuck me, it's a dragon!"

And indeed, it was the largest dragon Harry had ever seen, somewhat larger than the Hungarian Horntail that Harry had confronted back in his fourth year, for the Tri-Wizard Tournament. However, this one was crimson and even more belligerent than that one, if that was possible.

"Well, if it isn't King Ghidorah's one-headed cousin," Kuwahara remarked sardonically.

"More like Smaug's little brother," Harry retorted. "But seriously, why do I get the feeling we need an anti-tank rocket or something?"

"We've got some Panzerfaust-3s in the jeeps, Harry," Shino said. "They have HEAT warheads. If those can't kill that, I'm afraid what will. Still…look at the size of that thing. Is that the same size as dragons back home?"

"Yeah."

"Commander, what do we do?" Shino asked Itami.

"Well, you could hold my hand, Kuribayashi. I'm actually feeling a bit scared right now." On Shino's irritated grunt, Itami said, as the dragon flew off, "No, seriously…Sergeant, I don't think dragons would burn down a forest for the hell of it. I think he's just attacked the very village we were coming to. Hey, Harry…are any of your spells good for firefighting?"

"I could use _Aguamenti_ charms," Harry said. "They work best with a good source of water nearby, though."

"Right, well, if you think you can do it safely, without dying, when we get close, get started, okay? I want to help any survivors as best as possible…"

* * *

It had already started to rain by the time they got as close to the inferno as they dared, but Harry was fine. Between a Bubble-Head Charm and the _Aguamenti_ spells, he began to quench the fires. Kuwahara, seasoned veteran though he was, decided that the remains of the village were safe to enter by the time night proper had fallen.

Still, it seemed that they were too late. Burned corpses and houses were everywhere. Harry looked around, before he happened to look down the well. It was getting dark, so he cast a Lumos…and a pair of startled teal eyes met his own. Glad the translation charm was still working, he called down, " _Hello? Are you okay?_ "

"… _Who are you?_ " called the girl down there, warily. An Elf girl, with blonde hair, and distinctive pointy ears. A beautiful Elf, apparently in her late teens or early twenties, dressed in green.

" _My name is Harry Potter. I am a mage from beyond the Gate on Alnus Hill. What's your name?_ "

" _Tuka Luna Marceau. Please…if you can get a rope or use your magic…I need to find my father._ "

" _Okay, gimme a moment._ " Then, he said, pointing his wand, " _Wingardium Leviosa._ " Tuka was lifted out of the well, and all but fell into Harry's arms. "Mari!" Harry called, casting a Drying Charm on Tuka, then a Warming Charm.

Mari hurried over, and began checking Tuka, who looked at Harry nervously. " _She's a medic, a healer. She wants to check you for any injuries or hypothermia. You've been in the water for so long, it might affect your body temperature._ "

Tuka, after a moment, nodded. " _Please…my father….if your magic can find him, do it. He is Hodor Ray Marceau. Please_ …"

Harry nodded back as Mari hustled the Elf away. Kurata began squeeing over the fact that they had found a hot blonde Elf, until Harry shot him a look, made irritable by mild magical exhaustion. "She just lost her home, along with everyone she knew, Kurata. Show some bloody respect instead of fanboying out!"

Kurata winced, recoiling. Harry knew Kurata didn't mean badly, he just didn't think before fanboying out. Itami was more measured, but he said, "Harry, he didn't mean it that way."

"I know, but if Tuka there knew what he was talking about, wouldn't she be angry or disturbed? Anyway, I'll see if I can find her father," Harry said, putting his wand into the palm of his hand. " _Point Me_ , Hodor Ray Marceau." The wand spun briefly, before pointing at one of the collapsed but less burnt homes. He hurried over, and began using magic to lift the rubble away, believing he'd find a corpse. He was surprised to find a relatively intact body…and was even more so to find it still breathing. Like Tuka, he was an Elf, with blonde hair and pointy ears, his clothes singed but mostly intact, his face similar to Tuka's. Blood trickled down his forehead.

"Mari! When you're free, come here! We've found another survivor! I think it's her father!"

* * *

Despite doing considerable searching, no other survivors were found. If any had survived, they had fled far away by now. As it turned out, the other survivor was Tuka's father. Tuka, thanks to the Drying and Warming Charms, was out of danger, just needing a blanket to keep warm, but Hodor had a bad concussion and a few other injuries. They decided to camp on the outskirts of the former Elf village for now, and head to Coda in the morning to warn them.

As they had dinner, Tuka, who was surprised at the taste of the MRE she was given, looked at Harry. " _Harry Potter, was it?_ " she asked. " _Thank you for bringing me out of the well, and finding my father. I was sure he was still alive, but_ …"

" _You're welcome. Are you all right?_ "

The blonde Elf shook her head, chewing her lip a little. "… _My friends have been killed by the Flame Dragon. But…it doesn't make any sense! The Flame Dragon is a calamity that is only supposed to awaken every century, and it is decades too early! Something or someone must've roused it from its slumber!_ " She shivered, not from the cold, though, tears trickling from her teal eyes. For a time, she didn't speak, before she eventually asked, apparently to distract herself from her grief, " _You said you come from a world beyond the Gate. Is magic common there?_ "

" _No, it's rare and hidden. I'm the sole wizard here._ "

Tuka frowned, and then looked at the JSDF soldiers. " _Then…what are those staffs they hold? And what is that thing on your belt?_ "

Harry tried to think about it, before he realised what she meant. " _They're called firearms, guns. They're like a bow and arrow, only they use a small explosive to propel metal pellets at immense speeds. They can be built with the right machinery. And these people are soldiers with the Japanese Self-Defence Forces, the military of the country the Gate opened onto on our world. I am from another country on the other side of that world, Britain. Sergeant Kuribayashi there is my second cousin. I am a mage unofficially on contract with them._ "

" _Oh_ ," Tuka said. "… _Am…am I going to be able to stay with these soldiers for a while? At least until my father gets better? I don't have anything to pay with, save my body, and_ …"

Harry held up his hand. " _Hey…you don't have to sleep with anyone to pay off any debt. The JSDF came here mostly to hold the Saderan Empire to account, but also to meet the locals as friendly as possible. Using sex to pay debts is not really the done thing on our world. I'm sure the JSDF will work something out._ "

Tuka seemed shocked, before she gave a rather sad smile. "… _Thanks. Do you have Elves on your world?_ "

" _Not like yours. Some wizards have brownie servants, who work in exchange for magic, but I don't know of any others. Elves like you are in our fiction, though. There's Goblins, Merpeople, Centaurs…but not really the demi-humans you have here._ "

" _I see. Do you think…my father will be all right?_ "

" _I don't know, not with a head injury like that. But he's alive, right?_ "

" _Yes…he's alive_ …"

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **And the first major divergence from** ** _GATE_** **canon begins fairly quickly. Tuka didn't get bopped on the head with a water bucket and spent less time in the well, and Hodor was found before he could wander off in an amnesic daze. Oh, and King Duran was found before he could crawl off wherever he went to to get healed. Seriously, how DOES he end up at that convent Pina finds him at?**

 **I'm not sure how Hodor survived, or whether he was still present when the JSDF arrived. I decided he wandered off with amnesia shortly before they did, otherwise, the JSDF were pretty negligent in searching for survivors. Still, for the sake of this story, he will remain unconscious for a while longer…**

 **Anyway, the upshot is, Tuka stays sane, more or less…but having a father with amnesia is sure to cause other problems. I also decided to bypass the whole House Elf issue by having Harry tactfully call them brownies.**

 **I also wanted to give Shino some more characterisation. While compassionate, she also seems rather aggressive and even a little bloodthirsty. I wrote in that bit to show that she doesn't really like the one-sided slaughter.**

 **1\. 'It is sweet and fitting to die for one's fatherland'. An old Latin saying.**


	181. Worlds Apart Chapter 1

**So, while working on the fifth chapter of _Another Fine Mess_..., I got to thinking, it didn't quite feel right. It almost felt like an also-ran of _Parva Sub Ingenti_ in some ways. So, I decided to revisit my other GATE crossover idea. Originally, it was meant to answer my 'Harry Mercury' challenge, but as awesome as a Harry raised by Rory Mercury would be, I decided to do something else. The main thing that carried over from that story is the pairing, a threeway pairing of Harry/Lelei/Myuute (that's the Siren girl, in case you don't know), and Harry's approximate age.**

 **This idea does owe a little to Split-Girl's _In Which Harry Ditches Everybody! Welcome to Ancient Culture Chop Suey_ , in that it features a Harry who has been to Hogwarts, but has come to Falmart partway through his schooling. Unlike Split-Girl's work, this story has a post-Book 5 Harry ending up accidentally in Falmart...and ending up, eventually, at Coda Village, albeit not before rescuing Myuute from her canon fate. This Harry actually has incentive to go back home, even if it's to stop Voldemort from killing his friends, which is going to provide some angst here.**

 **As with _Another Fine Mess_..., Rory is going to be written somewhat differently in this story to _Parva Sub Ingenti_ , as more of a maternal/big sister figure, one who shows her age a bit more often, but without sacrificing what makes Rory Mercury so awesome. _Another Fine Mess_... may still get published, though, so don't worry. However, I think this one might appeal to people a little more...**

* * *

 _ **WORLDS APART**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **REFUGE**

Happenstance and coincidence are two of the most surprisingly powerful forces in the cosmos, even if they do pretty much happen at random. Many ascribe such things to fate, but often, it is just sheer serendipity or ill fortune, depending. Sometimes they can change lives, and even worlds.

On the world of Mondas, in the continent of Falmart, there was a village by the name of Coda, its populace 600 strong. Of these 600, two of the most notable citizens were mages, living a little away from the village, in a house next to a waterfall, a house with a vast library. They kept to themselves for the most part, and were well-respected by the other villagers, for the most part.

The senior mage, Cato El Athelstan, was a sage of considerable renown and an alumnus of the famous academy of Rondel, the great magic academic city of Falmart. Short and wizened, the old man was nonetheless still a formidable mage. His only fault was that he was something of a pervert, though thankfully, he never gave any such attention to his young apprentice.

Lelei La Lalena was 15, rather slender and petite, her cute features frequently stoic and almost expressionless. Her hair and eyes were blue, and she was formerly of the Rurudo nomads before her talent, and that of her stepsister, was recognised. She was ridiculously intelligent, with her ability to learn enhanced by blessings from Elange and La, the deities of knowledge and learning.

Lelei, although a diligent student, was far from a morning person, and resembled a revenant as she shuffled out of the house to fetch some water from a nearby well. However, she was startled to find a pair of people climbing out of the nearby river, albeit with considerable difficulty. One seemed to be a boy her age or a little older, his black hair messy. The other, to her astonishment, was a young Siren girl of the same age, her green hair actually a mass of feathers, feathers that also covered her limbs, as well as a pair of bird-like legs.

Lelei hesitated only for a moment, before she used her staff to levitate the two out of the water. Magic wasn't to be used in trivial situations, but it could be used to save lives, of course. She went over to them. "Are you two okay?"

The Siren grimaced. "Fantastic," she said, a little irritably. She looked up at Lelei with light brown eyes. "Hey, where are we, anyway?"

"You are on the outskirts of Coda Village," Lelei said.

"Coda? Oh, that's a relief! Looks like his little trick took us further than I thought. That, or the river took us quite a way away," the Siren said, getting to her feet. "Sorry to drop in on you like this, but this guy just managed to save us both from this bandit group that's been causing a bit of trouble near Italica. He doesn't speak the local language, which is weird, but I think he understood I was as much a prisoner as he was. He's definitely a mage, though. Used some spell or something to teleport to that river."

"You were with a bandit gang?" Lelei asked, tensing ever so slightly.

"Not by choice. Those bastards kidnapped me a few weeks ago when I was travelling to Italica to find work at the Formal household, or at least somewhere in Italica," the Siren said. "I'm Myuute Luna Sires, by the way. You?"

"Lelei La Lalena, student of the sage Cato El Athelstan," Lelei said. She decided that Myuute was not that much of a danger, if only because bandits were unlikely to stage such an elaborate infiltration. She was still wary, if only because Sirens were masters of spiritual magic, especially wind-based magic. She found her attention going to the boy, who had gotten to his feet, and was peering at Lelei curiously using glasses which were broken. Noticing this, he scowled, took them off, and used what looked like a wand to repair them. His eyes were emerald, and Lelei noticed a scar on his forehead, in the shape of a lightning bolt. His clothes were curious, a mixture of robes and clothes with a finer weave than she had ever seen before. "And this is?"

"His name's the only thing I got out of him. I think he calls himself Harry Potter. I think the language is the one they use in Elbe, or not unlike it. You know it?"

Lelei nodded. Even before she was chosen as a student, Lelei was told by her parents to learn as many languages as possible. This was an offshoot of their time as nomads, where they needed to learn languages to speak and trade with, and the tongue of Elbe was one she was somewhat familiar with. So she tried it. " _Hello. Can you understand me?_ "

His eyes widened comically. " _Yes, I can!_ " His accent was a little strange, not quite as harsh or guttural as most speakers of that tongue were, but it was perfectly understandable. " _Sorry, I've been trying to make myself understood to this bird girl for a long time. She called herself Mute or something._ "

" _Myuute_ ," Lelei clarified. " _Her name is Myuute Luna Sires, and she is a Siren. I am Lelei La Lalena. She said your name was Harry Potter, am I correct?_ "

" _Yes, that's right. You…don't know that name?_ "

Lelei frowned slightly. " _Should I? Are you famous?_ "

" _Well, yes, but…I've got the feeling I'm not in Kansas anymore._ "

" _Kansas?_ "

He shook his head. " _Sorry, it's a joke. So…where am I, exactly?_ "

" _Coda Village._ "

" _Not…London? Britain?_ "

" _I don't know those names._ "

" _Of course you don't_ ," Harry said quietly, an edge of despair in his tone. "… _Of course you don't. Can you tell Myuute…thanks for helping us escape? She used some sort of wind magic to buy us time to escape when they were trying to kill us._ "

Lelei nodded, and she said to the Siren, "Harry wishes to thank you for helping him escape."

"He's more than welcome, though to be honest, he did more than I did. I owe him a pretty major debt," Myuute said. "Without him, I would've been stuck with those bandits. Hell, a few were even thinking of turning me into their plaything. Does…does he want me to…redress that debt with my body?"

Lelei translated that to Harry. Distasteful as it was, sexual favours were a not uncommon way for women to settle debts. Harry, upon hearing that, looked shocked, embarrassed and affronted. " _What? No, no no! I mean, she's a pretty girl, and so are you, but…we don't do that where we come from…well, not that I know of! No, no…anyway, I'm not even 16 yet. What's wrong with her?_ "

" _My apologies, but some women use sexual favours to settle debts, and some people demand them of people whom they have helped_ ," Lelei explained, actually astonished that Harry complimented her looks as well, but hiding it. " _I understand your disgust. I despise the practise myself, and I am sure Myuute is relieved. But she owes you a debt for helping her out. To offer herself like that to you, she clearly feels she owes you much for saving her. Given what the bandits could have done to her, she was lucky that you helped her._ " She then relayed a translation to Myuute, who sighed with relief, though she preened at being called pretty.

" _Listen…this is probably going to sound insane_ ," Harry said. " _But I come from another world, I'm sure of it. I thought I might've gone back in time or something, but, well…magic isn't hidden here, right?_ "

" _Of course it isn't. Is it hidden where you come from?_ " The very idea was alien to Lelei, but she found herself curious. Then again, if one had to describe her ground state of being, it was intense curiosity, one that showed itself more in her manner than on her face. Then again, he mentioned coming from another world. Had the Gate on Alnus Hill opened?

" _Yes. You…don't seem surprised that I come from another world._ "

" _No. Has the Gate on Alnus Hill opened up?_ "

As Harry looked puzzled, not understanding the question, Myuute said, "I heard you mention Alnus. We were nowhere near there. He quite literally dropped out of thin air."

"He claims to be from another world, Myuute. I am merely clarifying something, as the Gate is the only known place that opens up onto another world," Lelei said.

Harry frowned. " _Sorry, did you say something about a Gate on Alnus Hill? As in, a gateway to another world?_ "

" _Yes, I did. I don't know whether it opens up on your world, though. It is said to open once every several centuries. The last time was about a thousand years before_ ," Lelei explained to Harry.

He stared at her in shock. " _And…there's no way to open it myself? Or another way to another world?_ "

" _If there is, I don't know it. I'm sorry. I doubt that they would even know anything in Rondel, and they have one of the largest libraries in the world_ ," Lelei said apologetically.

Harry seemed like he was beginning to panic, his eyes wide, his breath hastening. " _I'm…stranded? Marooned?_ "

Lelei was not the most emotionally expressive of people, but she was by his side in an instant, gently embracing him. " _We'll do what we can, Harry_ ," she said, as soothingly as she could. Myuute joined what had now become a group hug. " _If we can find a way to send you home, we'll try._ "

" _Thanks…but I don't know…how long…they'll think I'm_ _ **dead**_ _, Lelei. For all I know, Voldemort's already gone and killed them, and…and_ …" He began weeping quietly.

" _Voldemort?_ "

" _A warlock who killed my parents_ ," Harry explained. " _There was an arch with a veil on it. I fell through it trying to save my godfather. And then_ …" He fell silent. And Lelei's heart went out to him. Because if his tale was true, he had been stranded, and a warlock was on the rampage whence he came…

* * *

Cato El Athelstan looked at the young wizard after hearing his story, courtesy of Lelei. "Well, if this boy's story is true, then he's in a pickle and no mistake," he remarked solemnly. "I don't know of any place in our world that matches the places he speaks of, and the only portal into this world, at least that's two-way, is the Gate on Alnus Hill. There are occasional rumours of people suddenly appearing in Falmart, but we've given them little credence. Maybe there is something else known to the mages of Rondel. I know that Mimoza was researching the Gate on the request of Rory Mercury."

"Does that mean the Apostle of Emroy might actually know something herself?" Myuute asked.

"Perhaps, though I was sure the Gate was opened by other gods," Cato said, as Lelei translated for Harry. "I don't think Emroy has a hand in the matter, though the same could not be said for the likes of Hardy."

" _Sorry, I'm confused_ ," Harry said to Lelei as he heard her translation. " _Apostle? Emroy? Hardy?_ "

" _Apostles are demigods empowered by the gods to do their will in this world_ ," Lelei explained. " _Rory Mercury is the oldest known Apostle, and is the oracle and high priestess of Emroy, the god of war, insanity and calamity. Despite her patron deity, she is actually quite friendly to most people, and should she come here to Coda, she would help you if she can, I am sure. Hardy is the goddess of death._ " To Cato, she asked, "Master, would Lady Mercury be in the area?"

"Rumour has it that she is," Cato said. "She has apparently been spotted crossing the Dumas Mountains a few days ago. You know how she likes to stop by Coda when she's in the area to speak to the locals, especially the children. That being said, warn this young man that an Apostle is not one to be trifled with. Lady Mercury is fairly tolerant and easy-going, but she may decide to send him to her master if she takes umbrage. Still, I'm sure she would be willing to listen, and to divulge any information she knows. One thing about Rory Mercury is that she is a lover of novelty. He might pique her interest."

"Is that a good thing?" Myuute asked apprehensively as Lelei spoke to Harry. "I mean, there is a reason she's infamous as Rory the Reaper. She's rumoured to have killed more people than even the Flame Dragon."

"As I said, she's generally tolerant and easy-going, and as it stands, she may be Harry's best hope of getting home..."

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, an unusual beginning, told mostly from the POV of Lelei. Plus, Myuute got rescued from the bandits. I wondered how she ended up with them. Obviously, Myuute is being based more on her appearance in the anime rather than the manga, where she looks a bit older.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	182. Worlds Apart Chapter 2

**So, here's the second chapter of _Worlds Apart_. I like what I've done with Rory in this chapter. Hopefully, you guys do.**

* * *

 _ **WORLDS APART**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **RORY'S PROMISE**

Harry Potter was still in shock. He had suspected he was on another world soon after he woke up to find some foul-smelling man standing over him, demanding something in an unfamiliar language, and then saw the bird girl, the one called Myuute. Harry, as soon as he was able, tried to escape, realising rather quickly that the girl was a prisoner like he had been, and had somehow managed to Apparate in the process of fleeing from them. Unfortunately, that meant appearing over a river, and they had been swept downstream. Harry was thankful he'd managed to snatch his wand from the bandit before he fled.

It wasn't until that girl Lelei spoke to him in what sounded like English that he truly realised what had happened to him, and the guilt, the guilt of not being there when his friends could be dead or dying, hit him hard. He was now stranded on another world, thanks to trying to save Sirius. Ron, he last saw being attacked by disembodied brains. Hermione had been hit by Dolohov's curse. Sirius was left alone to face his bitch of a cousin Bellatrix. He had been so angry at being kept in the dark during that year, at having to deal with Umbridge with little support from the teachers…and now, here he was, stuck in a world whose technology was medieval, maybe Renaissance level at best. Even Magical Britain, backwards though they were, had advanced somewhat into the 20th Century.

Apparently, they were hoping that some demigoddess called Rory Mercury would be stopping by the village soon. Given that she was apparently some infamous servant of a god of war, Harry had to admit to being apprehensive, despite Lelei and Cato's assurances. Myuute's apprehension certainly didn't help.

As it happened, Rory came to Coda Village the very day Harry and Myuute ended up in it. Lelei and Myuute were with Harry, buying supplies from a local trading post, when they heard a bunch of children screaming excitedly in their language. "It seems that we are in luck," Lelei said in her gentle monotone. "They're saying 'oracle'. I believe Lady Mercury may be here."

After paying for the supplies, Harry, Lelei and Myuute walked out, to find a strange figure speaking to the children. Harry had probably been expecting someone who looked like Bellatrix Lestrange, or maybe that Chocolate Frog card of Morgan le Fay. Instead, it was, well, someone who looked younger than he was, though still a striking and extraordinary figure.

Rory Mercury appeared to be a girl of about thirteen, with glossy black hair that put Harry in mind of a raven's feathers. Her face was elegant, even doll-like, her eyes crimson. Her clothes put Harry in mind of something Hermione showed him once, Gothic Lolita fashion, though the hemline of her black and crimson clothes was rather scandalously high. A bow-like headdress gave her a somewhat feline air. Capping off this odd picture was a massive halberd, two metres tall. However, while her appearance made him wary, Harry realised that most of the villagers felt at ease around her, showing her respect and even being friendly. In return, she seemed to be genuinely nice to them, her voice soft and low, sounding a little older than she appeared.

Rory looked up, and then noticed Harry, and then approached him, speaking in the tongue of this place, her voice carrying a question. Lelei said, "Lady Mercury, you honour us with your presence. However, I have a boon to ask you. This boy speaks only the tongue of Elbe, and we would be grateful if you could spare us some of your valuable time."

Rory nodded. "Please, call me Rory, Miss…?"

"Lelei La Lalena. I am Master Cato's student."

"Ah, Cato El Athelstan, yes. I remember you now. Well met, Lelei La Lalena. These two, they are newcomers to your village, yes? A Siren and a boy…with interesting clothes. I have nothing but time to spare, as my master has no business for me to attend to for now. Could you wait a few minutes first? I like to spend time with the children. I will come to Cato's house shortly…"

* * *

Harry noted the air of respect that Cato treated Rory as he gave her refreshments, albeit simple ones, mostly fruit and water. There was something strangely graceful about the demigoddess, as well as impish and playful. On Lelei's prompting, Harry, with a little reluctance, told her his story, hoping that she would be able to help him.

Rory, to give her credit, merely listened, occasionally asking a question to clarify a point. Then, after he was done, she leaned back in her chair, and contemplated him, her expression solemn. "I'll be perfectly honest with you, Harry Potter, I don't honestly know whether you can go back. I know that may not be the news you wanted to hear, and frankly, you have my sympathies, even if you don't want them."

Harry felt his temper rise, but reminded himself that this girl might not take it well. And unlike Dumbledore, she at least told him the blunt truth. "Are you sure?"

"Not wholly. There is a possibility that the Gate may open and that it may open up on your world," Rory said. "But I'd rather not give false hopes to someone who has been through enough already. However, that chamber and archway you spoke of in this…Department of Mysteries…it does sound familiar to me. You smell slightly of Hardy, and I wonder whether she left that archway there. I heard rumours that Hardy liked to experiment with creating Gates, and left them on other worlds. She is fond of following her whims, and not taking no for an answer."

"Yes, I heard about Hardy's obsession with wedding you," Cato said. "Your clashes with Lady Giselle have become a thing of legend of late."

Rory snorted. "Giselle is no lady. She doesn't even bother repairing her vestments properly. Then again, considering how Hardy prefers women and girls to men, it's probably on her mistress' orders." She turned her attention back to Harry. "As I said, I'm sorry I can't tell you, yes, you can definitely go back home. Emroy can't open up the Gate himself, and to my knowledge, the destination of the Gate cannot be chosen. I'm afraid that making a new life here may be your only choice, even if it's only for now."

"But…but…"

"Have faith in your friends and loved ones, because I'm sure they have faith in you. I know that sounds like a hollow platitude, but it's well meant."

Harry just stared at her, before he left the small house, staggering outside in a daze, not quite running away, but not wanting to be in the house for any longer. Shock and hollow apathy soon gave rise to the anger he felt throughout the prior year. With a sudden scream, he began firing Cutting Curses into the river, causing plumes of water to burst into the air. Eventually, though, he tired of that, and slumped onto the nearby bench, his anger spent for now, tears trickling from his eyes.

And then, he felt slender arms clad in black and red lace snake themselves around his chest. "It's okay. Let it out. Let it out," Rory gently whispered into his ear as she hugged him from behind. "Scream, cry, curse, whatever you need to do to let it out. Believe me, I know these things. I may not look it, but I am 961 years old. I know anger, and despair, and terror, perhaps more than any living being on this world, save for the gods. And I know a child who has seen suffering, as you have."

"I'm not a child."

"Compared to me, almost everyone is but a child," Rory said quietly. "We have at least one thing in common. Like you, I was orphaned at a young age, my parents murdered. I know what pain of the soul tastes like." He felt her lift a finger to his cheeks, and wipe off a tear. He turned to watch as she licked her finger, an act that could have been perverse or disturbing, and yet, had an almost religious, even reverent air about it. "It tastes like tears," she said solemnly, her crimson eyes, not sinister like Voldemort's were, but soulful. "As we bleed when our bodies are wounded, so we weep when our hearts and souls are."

"I can't heal those wounds. I can't get back to my friends," Harry said quietly. "Voldemort may have killed them already, and…"

"Hey…hey…" she said gently. "Look at me. Harry…I promise you, if I find a way for you to be able to get home, then I will tell you as soon as I can. Especially if the Gate opens."

Harry was struck by the sincerity and conviction in her voice, belying her appearance. She wasn't promising that she would find a way, but if she did, she would help him. Perversely enough, she even seemed vaguely maternal or big sister-like in manner, despite her apparent age. Eventually, he asked, "Do you usually go out of your way to help others?"

"Only if they fall across my path. That may sound callous, but after nine centuries, one thing I have learned amongst so many others is that you can't save everybody. In any case, I have an appetite for blood and slaughter. I am Emroy's Apostle, after all. But that doesn't mean I don't care. Indeed, you interest me, Harry Potter. A boy so young, touched by war and calamity…and yet remaining strong, keeping your head above the torrent of despair. Emroy may be a god of war, and thus killing is no sin, but motive is important. The warriors he prizes best are those who fight for a righteous cause, for without such a thing, one's heart is tainted by sin and self-deception. You fight for your friends and for others, and that is to be admired. Indeed, one of your first actions in this world was to rescue that Siren girl. There are few so selfless in this world, especially with the Empire."

"The Empire?"

"Oh? So they hadn't gotten around to teaching you this yet? Hmm. In any case, you interest me enough for me to stay around for a few days at least. Lelei and Cato can teach you some of the more academic facts about our world, but I have over nine centuries of experience. And I enjoy a challenge. Besides, you can teach me about your world in exchange, especially what you know about the military and weapons there. As an Apostle of Emroy, learning about such things is interesting. In any case, you don't have anything to worry about here in Coda. The people, while a little wary of outsiders, are amongst the most friendly and accepting outside of Italica. And I know Cato well enough to know that he is a good man, with his only notable flaw being that he is…somewhat perverted, and even then, only towards women, not girls of Lelei's age. He'd take you in as long as you helped pull your weight."

Harry scoffed. "As long as it's nothing like the Dursleys…" he muttered, not quite under his breath.

"And even if you can't find a way home…even if I can't find one or anyone else can't…you can do a lot of good here. By saving Myuute, you already have," Rory said. "Those bandits would have either used her as a sex toy, or as their little trump card. Few bandit gangs have mages, after all, and a Siren would be useful, given their innate wind magic, either lending power to their arrow strikes, or else blowing enemy arrows off course. You've given her a second chance. Many of those taken by bandits never get that. They either get killed, or raped, or sold off. Believe me, I know from experience, having killed more than my fair share of bandits. And demi-humans like Sirens or Catgirls or Bunny Warriors aren't treated that well in the Empire, save for some of the villages, as well as Italica."

"Xenophobia, again," Harry muttered sourly. "Why am I not surprised?" Then, after a moment, he asked, "Bunny Warriors?"

"Oh, you don't have those? Think sexy rabbit-eared women who are also amongst the best warriors in this world," Rory said. "Not that it saved them from the Empire. Supposedly, their queen betrayed them to Prince Zorzal El Caesar to save her own hide, but I don't really trust anything he says. You're most likely to see any survivors in Italica, working for the Formal Clan. Count Colt Formal is very much an open-minded man towards demi-humans. Indeed, he actually has something of a fetish for them, though he always treats his servants with the utmost respect. Anyway, that's the way the world is. Not that it should be. I just do what I can."

Harry looked away from her, looking at the stream he'd been firing spells into minutes before. Her words weren't making the pain go away by any means, the fear for the lives of his friends and those he held dear, the impotence he felt at being unable to help them, the anger he felt at having been kept in the dark and left to the tender mercies of Umbridge's detentions and Snape's 'Occlumency lessons', if you could even call those lessons. But…they helped put it into perspective. "You promise to help me, then? If there is another way home?"

"Of course. I am the high priestess and oracle of Emroy. Unlike some Apostles, I take my vows, both to my god and my personal vows to others, very seriously," she said. "Many in this world bleat about honour, but in truth, they have very little idea of what true honour is. But I think you do. And while my idea of honour may be somewhat different to others', I value it all the same in my personal dealings. I'm sure you have no reason to trust me, given that we've only just met and you have heard of my reputation."

"Lelei and Cato seemed to trust you. And Lelei helped Myuute and I get out of the river," Harry said. "Anyway, it's not like I have a choice, do I? Either I trust that you can help me, or I will never find a way off this world, or at least I might not be able to find other avenues."

"Hmm. I hope we can become friends, then. Most people view me with awe or fear, sometimes both, and while I like the respect that is due to me as an Apostle of Emroy, I also treasure the friends I have. I have to." Her expression became morose. "One of immortality's less desirable effects is seeing one's friends wither and die, and I have to make new ones. Finding friends who will see me as Rory Mercury, and not the Apostle of Emroy, or Rory the Reaper, is hard."

"…Like me," Harry muttered to himself almost automatically. "Most people see me as the Boy Who Lived, not as Harry Potter."

"Well, you have one advantage, then," Rory said. "People here don't know of your fame, and even if you can go back to your world, who says you can't make new friends here?"

In a way, it was those words that actually helped him accept this situation. Here, there weren't any people in awe of him because of his fame, or despising him either because he took a stand against the likes of Voldemort, or because they thought him an attention whore, or too much like his father for their liking, as Snape was wont to do. No, here, he could be himself.

And maybe he could use that time to get smarter, get stronger, find a way to put paid to Voldemort for once and for all…because if there was a way back home, then Harry intended to be ready…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, some angst from Harry, and Rory playing counsellor.**

 **Having done her more playful side in** ** _Parva Sub Ingenti_** **, writing Rory as a mentor in my** ** _Star Wars_** **crossover** ** _GATE: Thus the Chosen One Fought There_** **was a real eye-opener. Rory is ancient, and I sort of like to view her as a more bloodthirsty version of the Doctor from** ** _Doctor Who_** **. It's something they didn't quite do in the anime, though I dunno whether they do it in the light novels or the manga. Writing Rory as a semi-maternal figure was oddly appealing, especially given that, during her first meeting with the JSDF in canon, the children instantly run up to her without any real fear, and she speaks to them very lovingly, hinting at this maternal side. I did this for** ** _Another Fine Mess_** **…, and I decided to do it here. Plus, Rory IS a priestess, and priests and priestesses can be de facto counsellors, and have been before psychology became a proper profession, I'm sure.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	183. Another Fine Mess Chapter 1 (Revised)

**So, after some thinking and discussion with Arawn D Draven, I actually went back to _Another Fine Mess_..., and began revising it. I decided to remove the 'Drunk Recruit' challenge angle, and change who Harry's relative was from Shino to Mari. This actually feels better, and this time, I decided to write a variation on the Ginza battle for a change. I also wanted to try and develop Shino and Mari more, as Shino, a pivotal character, didn't get as much characterisation in the original version, in the first five or so chapters I managed to write.**

 **For those interested in the pairing, it will be Harry/Shino/Tuka/Yao, for now. I was surprised at the amount of people who wanted Harry paired with Tuka when I posted the original version here, and I had admittedly been reluctant, given her canon sexuality. But given that she actually is attracted to Itami in canon, I decided to fudge that a bit for this story and have her being bisexual, but _preferring_ women in general. And being part of a harem will make her happy if the other women in the harem are willing, but we'll burn that bridge when we come to it.**

 **I'm currently 6 chapters into _Worlds Apart_ , for those of you wanting to see that become a full fic. Once I have seven or eight chapters done, then that will get published. Hopefully, the same will go for this fic, and hopefully _Prodigal Daughter_.**

 **Anyway, hope you enjoy...**

* * *

 _ **ANOTHER FINE MESS (REVISED)...**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **HERE WE GO AGAIN**

 _"You're setting me up on a blind date? What the hell, Mari?"_

 _Sergeant Mari Kurokawa, member of the Japanese Self-Defence Forces and trained battlefield medic, smirked a little. The tall, blue-eyed woman was one of Sergeant Shino Kuribayashi's few friends, in or out of the JSDF, but the buxom hotblooded sergeant was wondering whether she should revise that opinion. "It's not a_ miai(1), _Shino. I'm not expecting you two to get married. He's just new to Japan, and he's a bit lonely, and I thought at the very least you two could become friends. I don't care if those idiots call you a Christmas Cake(_ _2)_ _. And if it's any consolation, he had the same reaction."_

 _"It isn't, and stop smirking like that! At least tell me he's cute and not some idiot who faps to H-Games and thinks that's what romance is. I don't need a moron staring at my breasts all the time and hoping to have a grope."_

 _"I daresay he is cute, and while I can't speak for his sex life, I'm pretty sure he hasn't played an H-Game in his life. He's actually my second cousin, from Britain."_

 _This got Shino's attention. "Oh? I didn't know you had family there."_

 _"My grandmother was English, and came here to work for a business here after the Second World War. Her brother stayed in England, and while he's been dead since the Eighties, his grandson is still alive. Nearly wasn't, though. He got orphaned by a terrorist targeting his family back in '91, and said terrorist emerged from hiding back in 2005. Some of those attacks in Britain that happened between 2005 and 2008 weren't Al Qaeda or other groups, but they were led by this guy. It's all pretty hush hush for various reasons, but my cousin managed to kill said terrorist in self-defence. However, he wanted to get away from Britain for a while. Too many bad memories."_

 _"So, he actually fought that terrorist?"_

 _"A couple of times, and survived each time, even if it was by the skin of his teeth. So he knows what it's like to be in a fight, probably more than many of the people we have here in the_ Jietai. _Plus, if you decide to hook up, I know for a fact that he's a good house husband. Those bastards he was left with, his aunt, her husband and his cousin, basically made him their live-in servant for most of his life. Hell, they had him sleeping in a damned boot cupboard until he was eleven."_

 _Shino felt a surge of anger at that. "Please tell me they got their comeuppance."_

 _"The aunt did. She's in jail. The cousin's turned his life around and is actually in the British Army. The uncle died of a heart attack last year when he got tasered while resisting arrest, apparently. Serves him right, really. Anyway, he started looking into his family, and somehow found out about me. He managed to send me an email a few months ago, and we got into correspondence. Then, not so long ago, he decides to come over to Japan. We've spent the last little while catching up. Anyway, I even made suggestions about where you should go. I know you like the shooter games and the laser tag at Joypolis in Odaiba(_ _3)_ _, and after that, I suggested Ginza, to do some shopping. Maybe you could show him that_ doujinshi _convention that's on."_

 _"Really?" Shino asked, her face scrunching up in disgust. "It's gonna be filled with otakus and weirdos. Actually, I heard one of the reservists going on about it."_

 _"Oh, I know who you mean. 2_ _nd_ _Lieutenant Itami," Mari said. "It's either that, or Sergeant Kurata, but Itami's the one who really geeks out more than anyone else I know."_

 _"…Tall guy, often has stubble on his chin, keeps singing the_ Mei-Com _song?"_

 _"Yeah, that's Itami. He's a little annoying, and a bit too much of a slacker, but his heart's in the right place. Just needs a bit of tough love every now and then to remind him how he should act. Anyway, it was a suggestion, as he was curious about our culture. He likes some manga and anime, though he's not quite an otaku, by Japanese standards anyway. Western standards, maybe, but he was a bit of a late bloomer in that regard. He'll probably let you take the lead. I wouldn't call him an old-fashioned gentleman, but he'll be courteous to you, and won't mind you swearing like a sailor, as long as it isn't_ _ **at**_ _him."_

 _"Really? Well, maybe it might be a good day. So, what's your English cousin's name?"_

 _"Harry Potter…"_

* * *

Shino laughed as she fired at Harry with the laser gun. As much as she liked sitting ducks, she wanted a challenge, and while he didn't move like a professional soldier, she had to admit, the scrawny beanpole of a Brit had good reflexes and stealth ability. Then again, if you were being hunted by a terrorist, she supposed you had to get good, or die. Laser tag was fun against unskilled noobs who thought that playing a _Metal Gear Solid_ game prepared them for combat and stealth, but it was even more fun against a fairly skilled opponent, even if he wasn't a trained soldier.

Most of the men who expressed an interest in her didn't like her combative personality. She suspected many of them wanted a _yamato nadeshiko_ , a traditional Japanese housewife, or else some oversexed bimbo like something out of an H-Game. They'd probably prefer her younger sister, and Shino knew that Nanami had had to deal with sexual harassment at the TV station she worked in.

Harry seemed to take it in his stride, and that actually reassured her. She could tell he was physically attracted to her, as he did have a bit of a hard time looking her in the eyes. But he also made more of an effort to treat her like she was a person, and he seemed to speak to her more easily than most. She was certainly grateful for the English she learned while doing joint exercises with the Yanks. She could hold a conversation fairly well.

They were spending the morning here at Joypolis. Then, later this morning, they'd head to Ginza for shopping and lunch. He was curious about the convention, but promised Shino they wouldn't linger if she felt uncomfortable, for which she was grateful.

She peered out from behind cover, trying to figure out where Harry was…only to suddenly hear a blast from behind, and her vest beep. "Aw, goddammit!" she snarled. "How the hell did you sneak up on me? Who do you think you are, Solid Snake?"

"I'm not wearing a cardboard box and I don't smoke," Harry snarked as she turned to face him. He was rather scrawny, and short for his age, but he also looked fit enough. Emerald eyes looked at her through glasses, both weary and yet with good humour, unlike the sardonic look of that ass 1st Lieutenant Yanagida's eyes, or the perpetually belligerent and bellicose look of that even bigger ass Major Higaki. He had a messy thatch of black hair, with a lightning bolt-like scar marring his forehead. He was actually quite handsome, she had to admit, though.

"And thank God for that," Shino said. "Some idiots smoke like bloody chimneys, even in the JSDF. And the less said about people goofing off and using cardboard boxes in stealth training, the better. Still, at least you gave me a challenge. Nice. I'll have to get better in future, I'm sure. If you could get the drop on me, so could someone else."

Harry looked around the darkened room, with the heavy bass music playing through speakers. "It's not ideal conditions."

"Is war ever in ideal conditions?"

"Fair enough. Though will Japan see war in your lifetime?"

"Hope not. But you never know. Anyway, I'm over this. Let's finish up, and then head to Ginza. Maybe there's something interesting happening there…"

* * *

Not long afterwards, when they got to Ginza, Shino was eating her words. They had been wandering the district when they saw something at a traffic intersection. Something very large, very odd, and very out of place. "Shino…is there meant to be a transparent Greco-Roman archway in the middle of the road?"

She looked at Harry incredulously. "Why the hell would you think there is meant to be one in the first place?"

He shrugged. "Japan…maybe someone's doing a TV or movie shoot…but there's no cameras, no barricades…Shino, it's becoming more solid. No…no, no, no…who's doing this?"

Shino realised, to her astonishment, his reaction wasn't filled with as much surprise or denial as she would have expected with something as impossible, not like the onlookers who were gawking at the now almost solid gateway. Oh, there was surprise there, and astonishment…but worryingly, there was a fear there. As if he had some small inkling of what was to happen next. "Shino," he said quietly. "I think we need to clear the area, just in case. I think something bad is going to happen."

"Why do you say that?" Shino asked.

"With my luck, it's a dead certainty. Can you get the police to do that?"

"I'll try." There was a police officer nearby, and Shino said, " _Hey, my friend here thinks something bad is gonna happen. Can you get the people away from here, just in case?_ "

The police officer looked at her, before saying, " _You sure about that? There's a_ doujinshi _convention nearby, maybe this is a promo for_ …oh." Whatever he saw prompted him to start yelling, " _Clear the area! Clear the area now!_ "

Shino spotted it along with Harry when the policeman reacted. A dark shape rushing down the tunnel at speed, above the ground, and suddenly shooting out with a shrill roar. "Is that…a dragon?!" Shino yelped.

"Someone's riding it!" Harry yelled. More of them flew into the skies. He then turned back to the gate, and paled. "Shino…"

The urgency in his voice got her to look, and she saw, to her utter astonishment, an army there. What looked like Roman soldiers on foot and on horseback, massive hulking beasts with clubs, smaller creatures with porcine features, and more. It was an impossible army, and yet, it was right there. One even blew a horn.

"…No way in hell those are cosplayers," Shino muttered flatly. "They look too vicious…COVER!"

She pulled Harry behind a telephone booth, but the police officer, along with one of his colleagues and a number of civilians, were hit by a hail of arrows. "Definitely not cosplayers," Shino growled angrily, before checking the police officer (who had an arrow through the eye), before taking his pistol with a murmured apology. She then rushed over to the other police officer, who was also dead, and took the pistol, handing it to Harry. "Don't shoot at anything that you don't want to kill," she said firmly, before she took aim at the approaching army, and fired.

She had to admit, she was proud of the shot that blew out the eye of one of those hulking creatures wielding clubs. Then again, would she have managed to hit anything vital if she aimed anywhere else? For all she knew, they had skulls as thick as tank armour, and their organs were in a different position. Harry didn't hesitate for long, shooting one Roman off his horse, and he seemed surprisingly accurate for a civilian, though he flinched every time the gun went off. Did he play a lot of video games or something? Or did this have something to do with the terrorist who had been after him? However, he didn't make his shots count as much, and he had soon emptied the clip. With a frustrated look, he muttered something as he wound up, and then threw the gun at the approaching army.

Shino almost chewed him out for this, only to see the gun seemingly be thrown at a ridiculously high speed. High enough, in fact, that it hit one of the approaching soldiers in the eye, sending him down to the ground with a scream of pain and causing a bit of a domino effect, causing part of the army to stumble and falter briefly. It was like a baseball had been thrown at them, albeit by one of those baseball pitching guns. Shino decided to just keep shooting, taking down more of those hulking beasts, before she looked at her gun and snarled. "Dammit, I'm out! Run!"

What she wouldn't give for an assault rifle, especially with a bayonet. She was great at _jukendo_ , bayonet fighting, and she reckoned she'd be able to use it to get the hell out of here, with Harry. Never mind a Howa assault rifle: let's see how these bastards would enjoy a meal of hot lead. But no, here she was in mufti, without any useful weapons. If one of the soldiers got close, she reckoned she could use CQC or something, but she wasn't sure how she'd do against one of those creatures without a decent weapon.

As they ran, she noticed Harry looking around. Most of the people had fled. There were a few people in the distance, but they were all running for their lives. Then, he seemed to mutter, "People are dying. Fuck the statue." No, he said, "Fuck the _statute_ ," she realised. He then turned around, pulling out a long, elongated carved stick, like a conductor's baton, or a wand. Then, he bellowed, "BOMBARDA MAXIMA!"

A jet of light spat from the wand, and smashed into the invading army. It was as if someone had thrown a grenade into their midst, or they had stepped on a landmine. A massive explosion engulfed part of the invading force. More jets of light detonated amongst them, sending soldiers, horseriders, orcs, ogres, whatever the hell they were flying. At this point, the army halted, hesitating, and Harry began running again, Shino soon following.

"I don't know how many of them there are," Harry panted, "and I'm probably going to exhaust myself if I keep this up for much longer!"

"What do you mean, exhaust yourself?!" Shino demanded. "What the hell was all that you were doing with that stick?!"

"Short version is, I'm a wizard! I think the long version can wait until this shit has died down, don't you think?"

Shino couldn't help but agree with that sentiment. Still, she knew she was going to get the full story out of him and Mari, one way or another. Then again, this day was already strange enough…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, here we are, with Shino and Harry getting caught up in Ginza. Oh dear.**

 **1\. A** ** _miai_** **is a sort of matchmaking process in Japan. I only know this because it was a link on the Wiktionary page for a blind date.**

 **2\. 'Christmas Cake' is an infamous Japanese pejorative term for women over 25, deriving from the fact that nobody wants Christmas Cake past the 25** **th** **of December. Apparently 'New Year Noodles' has become more popular lately, but with similar connotations, only with over-31s being insulted.**

 **3\. Joypolis is a real amusement arcade in Japan, owned by Sega I believe. I don't know whether they actually have a laser tag centre, but for the sake of this story, it does.**


	184. Another Fine Mess Chapter 2 (Revised)

**Good news for fans of this revised version of _Another Fine Mess_...! I have written seven chapters, covering the story up to the end of the siege of Italica. It will soon be posted as a full story. For now, whet your appetite with this second chapter. The third chapter will be largely identical to the second chapter of the original, so keep that in mind.**

 **Also, for Halloween, I've posted the next chapter for _Raptor of the 20th Ward_.**

* * *

 ** _ANOTHER FINE MESS (REVISED)_...**

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **REPERCUSSIONS**

"You know, Mr Potter, you were considerably lucky we were able to arrange a suitable 'malfunction' for the CCTV camera and recordings that witnessed your spell usage," the rather sardonic-looking and shabby-looking man in the trenchcoat said. He had introduced himself as Hideyo Komakado of the Japanese Defence Intelligence Headquarters, as well as Chief No-Maj Liaison for the local DMLE.

"People had died, those things were coming to kill us, so what, I should have died?" Harry asked bitterly.

"No, no, no, that's what Obliviators are for, to wipe memories when our hands are forced," Komakado said, shaking his head. "In any case, we're actually better able to cover up breaches of the Statute here than in many other countries. Japan's strange enough already. Should a wizard or witch reveal themselves, they're more likely to be lauded rather than feared, given the whole magical girl genre, or those things by Kinoku Nasu(1). You're not in any real trouble, Mr Potter. In any case, considering that the only witness is a member of the JSDF, and someone who could be persuaded to stay silent under what would be the Official Secrets Act if this happened in Britain, it's fairly minimal. No, this is really just a debriefing. Given what happened, the ICW is scrambling on how to respond to this, much like the mundane government is. The JSDF has been mobilised to send a force through the Gate, to ensure the army that came through does not try again. For now, I believe the Ministry here is going to avoid covering it up. Too many people, and the Statute of Secrecy was breached by an outside entity, which appears to be from another world. Still caused a mess, literally and politically, of course."

Harry grimaced to himself. Of course it was a mess. Another fine mess he had ended up in. And this is what he got for tracking down one of his relatives. Ever since the fall of Voldemort, Harry had had enough of Magical Britain and its fickleness, its mercurial nature towards its heroes. True, the flaws of wizards were merely those of humanity, magnified, and humanity had a tendency to demonize its heroes. But he despised being on the receiving end, and knew that the gratitude he received was hollow. He only really trusted his surviving friends, and frankly, they had lives of their own, now.

Harry, in a desperate need to be anywhere but with the fame, had decided to see if he could find other family. The Goblins, after their anger over the break-in had been smoothed over (with a lot of Harry's gold), had agreed to a full inheritance test…and Harry had discovered, to his shock, that he had relatives in Japan. With his relationship with Ginny over, albeit on amicable terms (the spark that had been there during his sixth year had faded after her breaking up with him), and Teddy being raised by his grandmother, Harry opted to come over and meet his relatives, after being given a crash course in Japanese by Hermione, as well as how to cast a translation charm.

His mother had a half-Japanese cousin, which meant that Harry had a Japanese second cousin, Mari Kurokawa. Thankfully, she was aware of magic, as her father was a Squib who had been cast out of a Japanese Pureblood family. She had no idea that she was, albeit distantly, related to the infamous Harry Potter, and spent some time getting to know him. She was actually quite tall for a Japanese woman, taller than he was, and despite only being about three years his senior at 23, she had an older, even mothering air.

He had been a bit reluctant to go on this blind date she suggested with one of her friends from the Japanese Self-Defence Forces, but Shino, while rambunctious and a little aggressive (though the 'little' part halted when she played laser tag, one of Mari's suggestions), was actually quite nice. If he was lucky, he would have her as a friend. He wasn't quite interested in romance for now, but humoured Mari, if only to help her friend.

And now, this shit happened.

After being forced to use spells against the invaders, Harry and Shino joined up with other civilians, who had headed to the Imperial Palace. There, Shino saw someone she knew, and didn't like, helping direct the evacuation: 2nd Lieutenant Youji Itami, a rather thin, lanky man with stubble on his chin, and a JSDF reservist Shino had encountered. Being given a fresh clip for her gun, Shino reluctantly (only because of Itami commanding her rather than any reluctance to help civilians) helped hold the invading forces at bay until the local SWAT teams, followed by the JSDF. The invaders had been decimated and driven back to the Gate, as it was now being called.

Soon afterwards, he, along with Shino, had been approached by Komakado, who asked them to accompany him. Harry had to wait for a while in this room before Komakado came in, apparently having explained to Shino what had happened, and to keep quiet.

"So, what now?" Harry asked.

"Well, that's up to you, Mr Potter. It's still early days yet. That being said, I'd be careful. I'm sure you're about to have a couple more honours coming your way. Eyewitnesses say that you and Sergeant Kuribayashi were amongst the first to realise the danger and to warn people about it, including the local authorities," Komakado said. "That being said, while I know you didn't intend to leave Japan for some time, I'd suggest not expediting your departure. We'll handle any visa issues on the No-Maj end. Well, I will. A few of the Purebloods here are doubtless clucking at the famous British _gaijin_ wizard showing them up. A few of them are old enough to have been in charge of _zaibatsu_ prior to the end of World War II, die-hard Japanese nationalists. I'm a patriot to be sure, but still, as in everything, moderation."

"So, can I go home? I mean, to Mari?"

"Certainly. Just ensure we can still communicate with you…"

* * *

Shino was pissed, but seemed to accept that Harry wanted to wait until they were away from prying ears. So they headed to Mari's place, and after the medic got them drinks, having seen the news (the only footage of Harry seemed to be blurry smartphone footage of him from a distance firing a gun at the army), Harry explained his history, albeit in brief, to Shino. By the end of it all, she was staring at him flatly.

"Sooo, you're a wizard. Your parents were murdered by a wizard neo-Nazi. You went to magical school in Scotland…and you got involved in a civil war between wizards in Britain, one that was covered up because wizards can wipe memories. Mari, I am altogether too sober for this shit. Hit me again."

" _No_ , Shino. Remember what you did to Major Higaki's office the last time you drank too much?" Mari said sharply, putting the bottle away.

"That pompous prick deserved it, Mari!"

"You nearly got discharged thanks to that disciplinary hearing! You're lucky Hazama spoke up for you."

Shino rolled her eyes. "Anyway, I heard part of the story already from that spook, Komakado. Wizards. He showed me some magic. Said you probably used a Banishing Charm on that pistol to make it hit hard. And do you know what the galling thing is? That's not the most unbelievable thing I've heard today. I mean, it's more unbelievable than a fantasy army coming out of some weird Gate or your cousin being a bloody wizard."

"And what's that?" Harry asked, curious, despite himself.

"That slacker Itami has bloody Ranger training and Special Forces training to boot!" Shino complained. "How could a lazy bum like him be a badass Ranger and have Special Forces training, huh?"

Mari chuckled. "I actually knew that already. My sensei was actually his medic at the time. Itami actually got forced into both of those by his COs at the time because of his slacker ways, and he actually graduated the training at the lowest levels. Of course, to even graduate those courses requires considerable fortitude and ability, so maybe you've just forgotten a very basic precept: don't judge a book by its cover."

Shino scowled at her friend. "I still call bullshit. That lazy otaku would've dropped dead of exhaustion during training."

"Well, he certainly was exhausted," Mari said. "Anyway, there's a video on Youtube already of him saving a cop from one of those soldiers. He managed to kill the soldier with the soldier's own dagger or sword or whatever it was. Someone was filming it from a nearby building using their smartphone."

"Again, I still call bullshit," Shino scoffed. "Don't get me wrong, the way he handled the civilian evac and the defence of the Imperial Palace was pretty good, I'll give the nerd that much. Plus, it was pretty sweet how he told some girl, got separated from her parents, that they'd go find them. I'm not saying he's a bad guy, just that he's a lazy slacker who shouldn't be in the _Jietai_."

"So, what next, then?" Harry asked. "Are they going to mobilise the JSDF and go through the Gate or something?"

"I dunno," Shino said, glad for the change in subject. "I heard they sent through some of our guys to basically beat back what's left of the army that came through, but other than that…well…"

Mari nodded. "Article 9's going to be an obstacle. Remember, Harry, Japan technically isn't meant to have an army after the Second World War. We're not allowed to go to war anymore thanks to that. The few times the JSDF are deployed overseas, it's usually in peacekeeping missions or disaster relief. I guess if dealing with whoever sent that army counts as a peacekeeping mission, it could be fudged, but honestly, I don't know how or even if they're going to justify it. And early eyewitness accounts are pretty horrifying. It wasn't just a slaughter. A few of the soldiers raped the women they came across. We even have a few reports of some people taken captive and taken back through the Gate."

"Komakado told me they captured a bunch of those bastards. Apparently his lot are seeing if they can match the language they used," Shino said. "I reckon we should put them into whatever shithole we can use that can basically be like Guantanamo Bay. Seriously, hundreds have to have been killed by those bastards."

"They're already calling this the new 9/11," Mari said, indicating the TV, which was still showing the news, and footage from the attack on Ginza. "Only, instead of terrorists, we've got Romans and fantasy monsters from another world. What next, an alien invasion?"

"What, you mean like in an anime or one of those films from the US?" Shino asked.

"Or _Doctor Who?_ " Harry asked. "Anyway, don't tempt fate, Mari. Knowing my bipolar luck, you might just cause something to happen by daring the universe."

"I'd say you were making that up, but considering what your life's been like so far…yeah, you have a point…"

* * *

As it turned out, things took a turn for the worse for Harry, who was, of course, publicity shy. He, Shino and Itami were to be presented with awards for their actions in Ginza, with both Itami and Shino receiving promotions, Itami to 1st Lieutenant, and Shino to Sergeant-Major. Harry didn't like the ceremony. It was like being presented with the Order of Merlin all over again, although at least there wasn't a medal, just a certificate.

However, soon after that, Shino and Mari were told to report to their JSDF base. And Harry had to come to the Japanese Ministry of Magic. There, Komakado told him some rather irritating news. The Japanese Ministry wanted to hire his services to accompany the JSDF. Apparently the Prime Minister was intending to send an expedition through the Gate, to what he was calling the Special Region. And, partly due to his actions at Ginza, as well as due to his experience with crappy situations, he would be sent through the Gate with them. Officially, he would be a civilian contractor. In reality, he'd be basically a magical consultant, acting as the Japanese Ministry's agent.

He'd been given files to read, based on the Aurors using Legilimency on the prisoners they captured. These men came from another world called Mondas(2), specifically from a continent called Falmart. They were soldiers of the Saderan Empire, led by Emperor Molt Sol Augustus. And they wanted to invade to subjugate any lands they came across, take prisoners as slaves and loot whatever treasures they could find. All in the name of spreading 'civilisation', or at least their version.

There were multiple non-human species living there, more or less openly as opposed to Earth. The Elves there were the classic Elves of fantasy, High Elves and Dark Elves, as opposed to House Elves, and there were beings who looked like humans, but with animal-like traits. There were Catgirls, Dragonids, Bunny Warriors, and so on.

Of course, of considerable concern were the deities of the Special Region, who were apparently very real, and their Apostles. Apostles were regular beings who, in exchange for a 1000 years of service to their chosen deity, were given immortal bodies and superhuman abilities. One of those whom the Japanese Ministry had used Legilimency on had encountered the Apostle of Emroy, the local god of war and calamity. This Apostle was Rory Mercury, who, by Earth standards, looked like a 13 year old girl wearing Gothic Lolita-style clothes, though apparently they were priestess vestments there. She was obviously one they had to look out for, just in case she took umbrage. Of course, she could also be a potential ally, even if a fickle one. She had little love for the Empire these men represented.

Of course, he was given the option to refuse going with the JSDF. Komakado knew better than to try and entrap the person who defeated Voldemort, after all. But after some consideration, Harry decided to agree. He needed something new, something novel in his life. This could be it. He'd probably have to do some small military training, if only to learn how to use some of the equipment, but he wouldn't be part of the JSDF proper. Maybe in this new world, he could have something interesting to do…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, a better buildup to the incursion into the Special Region. The next chapter will be a revised version of the original second chapter posted in** ** _The Cauldron_** **.**

 **1\. AKA the writer behind** ** _Tsukihime_** **and** ** _Fate/Stay Night_** **.**

 **2\. I used Mondas as a placeholder name for the Special Region world in my** ** _Star Wars_** **crossover** ** _GATE: Thus the Chosen One Fought There_** **, so I decided to use it here. Mondas sounds rather like 'Mundas', a Latin name for the world, and was used as the name of the first Cyberman homeworld from** ** _Doctor Who: The Tenth Planet_** **.**


	185. Owls of Athena Chapter 1 V2

**So, here's the first chapter of the revised version of Owls of Athena. This one is going to be a Dumbledore-bashing one...but with a twist. Hopefully, this one feels better.**

* * *

 _ **OWLS OF ATHENA (REVISED)**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **AWAKENING**

 _"You are sure?"_

 _"Of course I'm sure. Thanks to V, I've had to kill her mother. I can't raise her myself, and the alternative, bringing her to an acquaintance of mine in the 24_ _th_ _Ward, isn't much better."_

 _"You know, I am sorely tempted to kill you for what you did to my cousin. But there are worse things than death. I can see the remorse eating you up inside. It will surely do so for the rest of your days."_

 _"Yes. It will. Still…give my daughter her mother's journal when she's old enough to understand."_

 _"I will. And she will not want for love. Our new girl will have a sister."_

 _"…Can I ask that you keep her name, at least? I know you named yours that Shakespearean name, Hermione. But can you allow her to keep the name her mother gave her?"_

 _"Certainly. Eto sounds like a nice name, after all…"_

* * *

Harry Potter was not having a good time. He'd been kidnapped by his nemesis, who was currently gloating while speaking to his Death Eaters, Cedric Diggory was now a corpse, and he was tied to a bloody gravestone with a bleeding arm. In short, he was having a bad time, and it was sure to get worse before it got better. Assuming it DID get better, anyway. Harry's life was a roller-coaster one to be sure with bipolar luck, but at this point, it looked like it was all downhill from here.

Every year, every bloody year, he had some trial or travail to overcome. There was that business with Quirrellmort and the Philosopher's Stone in his first year, the Basilisk and Lockhart in his second year (not to mention learning he was a Parselmouth), the Dementors, Sirius Black and Pettigrew in his third year…and now, the Tri-Wizard Tournament this year, with most of the school turning their back on him, even Ron, his supposed best friend, at least until the First Task.

It was during that time when he was grateful that he had another friend, Hermione's sister, whom he'd first met in Diagon Alley just before his second year. Well, a stepsister, as apparently she was a second cousin from Japan, actually, but they looked almost like sisters. Same face, same messy hair, same scary intelligence, though where Hermione was serious, her sister was facetious. Where Hermione was studious, her stepsister was a little lazy and absent-minded. Where Hermione's features were European, her stepsister's had Asiatic elements, and apparently her birth parents were Japanese, well, her mother was half-Japanese. Despite this, Hermione's stepsister, oddly enough, had green hair and eyes.

Ever since Hermione introduced them, Harry had kept up a letter correspondence with her stepsister. It was partly thanks to that that he had a date for the Yule Ball: Hermione had arranged for her stepsister to come to Hogwarts. She was also a writer, of horror thrillers, with Harry being given a copy of her first book, _Dear Kafka_ , for his fourteenth birthday, and a short story compilation, _Monochrome Rainbow_ , for his fifteenth.

Though it was increasingly unlikely that he would reach his sixteenth.

She had become as dear a friend to him as Hermione and Ron. Muggle or not, there was something magical to her. In fact, if he allowed himself to admit it, he was actually falling for her. Not that he could ever tell her, or any of his friends, that.

She wasn't the only one of the strange brood of the Grangers he'd miss. There was that albino boy that they seemed to adopt a couple of years back, who was a few sandwiches short of a picnic, and yet, was endearing once you got to know him. He was a bit like that girl Luna he had met a couple of times. The Grangers had apparently rescued him from an abusive home in Tokyo, and used their pull to adopt him as well.

And he would never even get to say goodbye. He was going to die.

Not that he particularly wanted to die. For all Dumbledore's guff about death being the next great adventure or whatever he said at the end of Harry's first year before sending him back to the Dursleys, Harry would prefer to live. He hungered for life, amongst other things. He had often been hungry since he could remember, and chalked it down to being often underfed by the Dursleys. It was a dull hunger, one never satisfied, and to tell the truth, he was never one to gorge himself on food either, especially after seeing his uncle and cousin do so. But he needed something. Something he couldn't define.

He was brought out of his reverie by Voldemort saying, "And what is this, Harry Potter? Are you not paying attention? Well, allow me to correct that. _CRUCIO!_ "

It felt like every nerve ending was on fire, like his very bones were being cooked. Harry couldn't even scream, the pain was so great, just a strangled snarl wormed from his lips. It was the worst possible pain, and it felt like something would break or snap at any moment.

Unbeknownst to him, or Voldemort, something was.

Suddenly, he felt something deep within, beneath his soul, beneath his skin, simply _shatter_. And then, it wasn't the Cruciatus Curse making him scream in agony until he was hoarse. In fact, Voldemort had finished using it, and was staring at him, puzzled, as Harry's body thrashed and convulsed.

Harry was only distantly aware of this, though. He could feel something like fire running through his veins, and yet, it wasn't just pain. It wasn't like the Cruciatus Curse, where it was simply pain upon pain upon pain. No, the pain washing through him was leaving him changed in its wake, burning and mutating and transmuting. It felt like everything was falling into place.

He felt something in his back burst open, but oddly enough, there was no pain when that happened. He felt the gravestone he had been restrained to shatter, and his restraints slip away. His left eye felt…different somehow. Then again, everything felt different. It was as if he had been wrapped in chains that had shattered, and now, he was free.

But in its wake, he also felt a terrible, profound hunger. And he could smell delicious morsels…right in front of him.

"A Blood Eye…and Blood Limbs(1)…" Voldemort whispered, in equal parts horror, awe, and even a little understanding. "…I see. So the Mongoose was indeed your mother…so why did she…?" He seemed to be musing out loud.

However, one of the other Death Eaters screamed, "A Ghoul! He's a fucking **_Ghoul!_** _Avada Kedavra!_ "

Harry instantly dodged the jet of green light, and then, suddenly, from behind his back, something flew through the air, and struck the Death Eater in the stomach. He seemed to shrivel up almost instantly, a strange gurgling noise accompanying the process…and Harry felt some of that hunger sated. The appendage was like a tentacle made of blood red flesh, but with a stinger on the end, or a hypodermic syringe.

That seemed to be the cue for the other Death Eaters to open fire, and Harry, on instinct, Apparated away. He didn't know how he managed to do that, in retrospect, but he was glad for it. The Death Eaters he impaled and 'drank', not so much. Then again, he was running on instinct, to survive and feed. A predator chained deep within him had been unleashed, and it needed to feed. It dodged spells and ate its foes with alacrity.

Soon, the whipcrack sounds of Apparition filled the air, though not before a Blasting Hex hurled Harry through the air, to crash amongst a thicket of grave markers. By the time he had recovered, the graveyard was empty of the living, save for himself. And then, he came back to himself, feeling distantly the Blood Limbs withdraw.

The hunger was gone now, or at least it had abated for the moment. And it hit him. He had killed and consumed a number of people. True, they were Death Eaters, xenophobic murderers…but what did that make him? Especially now that, somehow, he was a Ghoul?

How could he face his friends like this? He wasn't covered in blood, but he felt like he was drenched in it, from head to toe. He'd become a monster. No, he knew that he had been one all along.

Numbly, he staggered over to Cedric's corpse, and the Tri-Wizard Cup, grabbing the former before casting a Summoning Charm on the latter…

* * *

Some hours later, Harry was exhausted. Dealing with Voldemort, and then, coming back, dealing with Barty Crouch Junior (who had been disguised as Moody the whole time), a Dementor Kissing the same, Fudge not believing in Voldemort's return, and Harry having to rest. He said that a Ghoul had attacked…but he didn't give any details as to who it was.

Because he was the Ghoul, after all.

How could he be one? And how could Pomfrey not notice he was one during her examinations of him? He knew that Ghouls could only survive by feeding on human flesh, and that they found human food repulsive and disgusting, at best. And yet, not only could he eat food normally beforehand, he'd been given some food shortly after he was in the Hospital Wing, and it tasted normal.

He didn't want to be a monster. What's more, he knew that if word of this ever got out, so many people would turn on him in an instant. And what if he hurt someone he cared about? He began to hyperventilate in fear.

And then, he heard shouts and an argument outside the Hospital Wing. He heard Dumbledore's voice saying, "…proof there is is the word of those who are most suspect, Cornelius! Harry was kidnapped, and…"

"He is a damned Ghoul, Dumbledore, and he killed many upstanding members of our society!" Fudge's voice snapped.

"And what were these upstanding members of our society doing where Harry was abducted to?"

Spluttering reached his ears, before Fudge said, "It doesn't matter! He is a Ghoul and a murderer! That is what happened to Amos' boy! And remember, those who harbour Ghouls will face severe punishment, Dumbledore! Be thankful I'm assuming that you were merely duped instead of a willing accomplice! Do not make me change my mind on the matter, or I will see you and your staff in Azkaban within the week!"

Harry felt a chill run down his spine. Fudge had somehow found out about him being a Ghoul, and judging by the words of Dumbledore, they were the Death Eaters. He needed to get out of here, and fast. And in a moment of clarity fuelled by adrenaline, he hit upon an answer. "Dobby!" he hissed urgently. As the House Elf popped into existence, he hissed, "Get me somewhere safe! Hurry!"

Dobby nodded wordlessly, and just as the door was slammed open, Harry was…

* * *

…Elsewhere.

It wasn't Hogwarts. The architecture was too modern. Though it seemed old-fashioned anyway, but very industrial. There were pipes and electrical switches and the like everywhere.

Before Harry could react, Dobby vanished again, then returned with trunks, Harry's trunks. "Dobby, where are we?" Harry asked, his voice echoing in what sounded like a basement room.

"Batty-Sea Power Station, Mr Harry Potter Sir!" Dobby said.

Batty-Sea…wait, did he meant Battersea Power Station? In London? "But why did you bring me here?"

"Dobby was told to bring you here if you needed a safe place to be," the House Elf said, chewing his lip pensively.

"Told? By who?"

"By whom, actually, but that's okay, I'm not that much of a grammar Nazi. I know, a bit odd considering my occupation, but language is so borrrring without giving it a right reaming every now and then."

The voice was so familiar, and he turned to face the figure that was currently walking through the door. He gaped at the figure. "…Impossible."

"Hey, like Alice, it's best that you believe at least three impossible things before breakfast(2)," the figure said with a shrug, before concern came over their features. They sniffed the air, before they hurried over. "Dobby, what happened?"

"Mr Harry Potter Sir is a Ghoulie, Owlgirl!" Dobby said. "Idiot Minister Fudgepants found out!"

"…You're a Ghoul? Ohhh…ohhh, that explains a lot! I mean, I suspected something, given who I thought the Mongoose to be, but…no, no, I shouldn't be all excited. Sorry, Harry." The figure approached, and then gave Harry a hug, the playful tone of her voice now gone. "It's okay. It's okay," she said soothingly.

Harry suddenly pushed her away, not enough to be painful or aggressive, but enough to keep some distance between them. "Just…stay away from me, Eto. Please," he said, his voice finally beginning to crack. "I'm a monster."

The green-haired girl looked at him, a gentle smile on her face, a far cry from her usual lazy smirk. "If you're a monster, Harry…then you're in good company." Then, one of her eyes changed, from green irises in white sclera, to a crimson iris on black sclera.

"…Eto…you're…"

"Yes. I am. I'm a One-Eyed Ghoul. Just as I suspect you are…"

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Well, quite a few bombshells. Eto's Hermione's adoptive stepsister/actual second cousin, she's been friends with Harry for a while…and Harry is a One-Eyed Ghoul, as was his mother.**

 **Yeah, I know Harry as a Ghoul, One-Eyed or otherwise, has been done quite a lot. Deal with it.**

 **Eto, I decided, has a better moral compass than she did in** ** _Tokyo Ghoul_** **canon. She's still more than a little psychotic, and she's still running a shadowy organisation, with the eventual goal of dealing with V, but dealing with Death Eaters takes priority. But she's also a fundamentally decent person.**

 **BTW, Harry's** ** _kakugan_** **is a** ** _rinkaku_** **one, only it's like a high speed version of Cell's infamous tail from** ** _Dragonball Z_** **. Imagine four of those coming from Harry's back at once.**

 **1\. You'll note that I'm actually using my own English terms for the Ghoul's abilities. This was deliberate. They're not direct translations of the Japanese, as a quick look at the wiki will show you, but I thought it better to use English terms. A Blood Limb is a** ** _kagune_** **. A Blood Eye is a** ** _kakugan_** **.**

 **2\. Eto is quoting the Fifth Doctor referencing Alice in** ** _Doctor Who: The Five Doctors_** **. It was his bit of snark at the Master claiming he was there to help the Doctor (and the Master was actually telling the truth).**


	186. Owls of Athena Chapter 2 V2

_**OWLS OF ATHENA (REVISED)**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **THE GHOUL WHO LIVED**

 _His first date with Eto was somewhat nerve-wracking. Then again, that was partly due to the fact that he was still dealing with the after-effects of his using magic to inflate Aunt Marge (both his anger at her, and his unfounded fears of being expelled), as well as the fact that, well, it was his first date with a girl. And she had been the one to initiate it, too. He was under the impression that usually the boy did so._

 _Still, he was actually enjoying it. They were having ice cream at Florean Fortescue's. And he was with a beautiful girl. Smart, cute, and affectionate. And she was telling him about her plans for the future._

 _"So, you want to become a writer?"_

 _"Yes. It's in the blood, actually. My birth mother was an investigative journalist. She was murdered shortly after I was born when the people she was investigating discovered who she was," Eto said. "I've been attending normal school while Hermione's been off to Hogwarts. Actually, I'm ahead of my year level. I could easily take my GCSE tests, and I'm going to at the end of the year. So's Hermione. Hell, I reckon Hermione's smart enough to take her A Levels too. That reminds me, I recommend keeping up with your mundane studies. Getting work anywhere in Magical Britain when you're not a Pureblood would be difficult, even with you being the Boy Who Lived, so I'd recommend that as a backup plan."_

 _"Okay. Makes sense. Anyway…what were you going to write?"_

 _"Horror and psychological thrillers, actually," Eto said._

 _"What, you?" Harry laughed. "Do you really have that in you?"_

 _"More than you'd think, Harry," she said, with a knowing smile…_

* * *

He woke up to an unfamiliar sensation, of slender arms, deceptively strong, around his body. He nearly panicked as he saw, not the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts or anywhere else in the castle, but a more industrial-looking room. Not to mention the fact that he was currently lying in a bed with someone. His unease grew as the memories of the night before came back to him.

As he shifted away, he heard his bedmate moan softly. "…Just a few more minutes," came the familiar voice of Eto Granger.

Harry paled, and then said, softly, "Eto, what would you father think if he saw us together in bed like this?"

"As long we were fully clothed and didn't do it, he'd think it'd be cute. Actually, both my fathers would," Eto said sleepily. "My birth father is a real softy. Well, these days, anyway. And my real Daddy…well, you wouldn't know he's a Dove by the way he hugs his adopted daughter."

Harry froze up. "…Your father works for the Commission for Countering Ghouls?"

"And Mummy. Yeah, I know Hermione told you they were dentists. Well, technically, Daddy is a forensic dentist, whose primary work is to identify the remains of Ghouls' victims, as well as to match bitemarks with Ghouls. Ghoul DNA decays pretty swiftly outside of the body due to the actions of RC Cells, so more old-fashioned forensic identification techniques need to be used. Mummy is a specialist in Ghoul nasopharyngeal physiology. But they also do quite a bit of fieldwork."

"And they willingly adopted a Ghoul?" Harry asked quietly as she released him.

"Yeah. Harry, while officially all branches of the CCG take a hardline stance on Ghouls, outside of Asia, you'd be surprised at how flexible they are, unofficially, especially in Western Europe, the US and Australia. We have an understanding: as long as I feed only on suicide victims, unclaimed bodies, or the worst criminals, I'm good with them. Ditto Ghouls who are rocking the boat. Which reminds me, we've got to get you started on a diet to make you big and strong." She helped him off the bed, her smile gentle and understanding. "Harry…Hermione's not going to think any lesser for you being a One-Eyed Ghoul, or even a full Ghoul. Actually, you were lucky. Normal Ghouls wouldn't last very long at Hogwarts. Anyway, let's have breakfast. Don't worry, it won't have any human meat in it…well, unless you're still hungry for that…"

* * *

After showering and dressing, Harry followed Eto through the corridors of the former power station. He'd gone to sleep shortly after Eto revealed what she was, needing to sleep on the revelations. He was sure he was still in shock, that the fact that he was a Ghoul had caused his brain to crash.

It helped, in a way, how normal this whole situation seemed. She was dressed in jean trousers and a yellow jumper that did little to conceal her curves. Her whole attitude, her showing no fear or disgust or hatred, actually helped, though she was a Ghoul in the end.

As he walked with Eto, he asked, "Since when did you live at Battersea Power Station?"

"Live is a pretty strong word for what I do here. This is my workplace. Unofficially, the London CCG acquired it a couple of years ago, once I started my little organisation. Technically, I answer to the head honchos at the CCG only. Really, I don't answer to them, they're just allies of convenience. Actually, would you believe that Daddy is actually a Squib descendant of the Dagworth-Grangers? Which meant that Hermione is heir to a sizeable vault at Gringotts, and it was decided to buy Battersea. Plus, I must admit, I've always wanted my own James Bond-style villainous lair. I need a cat to stroke."

The bad joke had Harry chuckling, and it helped mitigate his ever-increasing anxiety about what was happening. He had become a Ghoul, a monster that ate human flesh. But…he didn't feel any different, not truly. That, in itself, was both the most disturbing thing, and yet, paradoxically, the most reassuring. Or maybe the whole thing felt so fucking surreal, he was coping by believing that this was perhaps a nightmare he was yet to wake from.

They came into a room that had been renovated into a dining room, fairly utilitarian, but Dobby was putting out plates of food at a table that already had two people at it. "Ever since you freed him from Malfoy," Eto explained, "this little guy has been helping me. So's Winky. I had Hermione go on her little crusade to act as cover for getting them to act as our spies in Hogwarts. She knows about the symbiotic link they have, how they live off the magic of their employers. Anyway, Dobby and Winky have been keeping an eye on her, and our allies in Hogwarts. I'm having that old mutt you call a godfather visit a Mind Healer I know. Ditto the werewolf."

"Hey, sis, what's Harry doing here?" asked a familiar-looking albino boy, who cocked his head quizzically. He was squatting on his seat, picking at his food with his hands. He seemed to be about 11, white hair framing pale, effeminate features.

"Well, funnily enough, Juuzou, Harry is like me," Eto said.

The other occupant of the table, to Harry's surprise, was the elderly Garrick Ollivander, who was peering at Harry as he nursed a rather large cup of coffee. "A One-Eyed Ghoul?" he asked.

"Yep. No doubt something of the sort will be trumpeted all over _The Daily Prophet_ , as Dobby said something about Fudge knowing." Eto led Harry to one side of the table, next to Juuzou Granger, and sat down opposite him. "Now…we'd better make this a working breakfast. Harry…what actually happened last night?"

Harry was hesitant at first, but eventually, it all spilled out of him in a cathartic deluge. By the end of it, he was sitting with a hollow look in his eyes, tears trickling from them. "…I don't know what to do anymore," he said, quietly, in a lost tone of voice.

Ollivander looked at him with sympathy. "You shouldn't have had to go through that, Mr Potter, to discover the truth about you in such a traumatic way. However, in many ways, you are fortunate."

"How so?!" Harry snapped.

"Simple," Juuzou said as he licked his fingers. "You're a One-Eyed Ghoul. That means your hunger for flesh is not as bad, and you're capable of eating normal food. Besides, you may have had a crappy life, but you were luckier than me."

Eto nodded. "Have you ever heard of a 'Ghoul Restaurant', Harry?" On his shaking of his head, she said, "Be grateful. Some Ghouls like to watch humans get taken apart for food in a Ghoul Restaurant. Scrappers are those who do the dismantling, humans who are indoctrinated, usually from childhood. Think of a Ghoul Restaurant dismantling show as dinner cabaret mixed in with Grand Guignol. Personally, I find it very distasteful. I mean, can't they get other Ghouls to do that if they're going to do that at all? And I'd rather take apart my prey myself, not brainwash some poor kid to do it for me. Anyway, dear little Juuzou was a Scrapper I rescued from the Ghoul Restaurant in Tokyo. He's so adorable. Good with knives, too. He's practically a Dove, with how good he can kill a Ghoul if he wanted to."

Juuzou nodded eagerly, a rather twisted but perversely innocent smile lighting up his features. "Oh God, Juuzou…I'm sorry…" Harry began.

The albino boy shrugged. "Hey…I'm out of there now. The Grangers showed me I can be a good boy without earning points, away from Big Madam. Besides, my sisters like you."

Eto looked at him solemnly. "…Juuzou is not normal by any means. You try growing up in the environment he did and remain sane. I try to give him a normal life…but he's so eager to please me for saving him. Killing is all he ever knew. I'm just helping him channel that in a way that's helpful. Besides, the CCG would have recruited him if I hadn't, I'd bet."

"I should also point out," Ollivander said, "that I myself am a Ghoul." Both his eyes suddenly showed the Blood Eyes of a Ghoul, before they reverted. "To conceal it for so long has been a difficult task. Ghouls tend to live lives that, as Thomas Hobbes put it, are solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short(1)."

Eto nodded. "I could have ended up that way. If my birth father hadn't given me to the Grangers, I was probably going to be sent to an acquaintance of his in the 24th Ward of Tokyo…and that probably wouldn't have ended well. That place is a hellhole. Harry, you're not a monster unless you choose to be. I very nearly chose to be…but decided I would rather be a monster to my enemies than my allies. To be fair, there's a lot of Ghouls who are monsters. But there are others who are just people cursed with a dark hunger. When I was in Japan last, I met a lovely couple called Asaki and Ryoko Fueguchi. Asaki only targets criminals, and Ryoko doesn't want to kill to eat. They have this adorable little girl called Hinami." She looked at Harry. "You may not have a choice in what you have to eat, Harry…but you have a choice in the how you eat."

He didn't know what to say to that. He felt numb, hollow inside. After all these revelations, he didn't know what to think anymore. And the thing was, he didn't even have a choice in the matter. Eventually, something came to mind. "…How come I am a One-Eyed Ghoul? I mean, what does that mean?"

"A One-Eyed Ghoul is a Ghoul-human hybrid," Eto said. "Normally, most half-Ghouls die in the womb, either dying from a lack of nutrients if the mother is human, or being absorbed into the mother's body as nutrients if the mother is a Ghoul. But sometimes, things work out, and a Ghoul-human hybrid is born. According to the diary of my birth mother, she went as far as to become a cannibal herself, even though she was no Ghoul. But by all accounts, both of your parents ate normally at Hogwarts. I think you're actually a quarter-Ghoul. And I think it's on your mother's side."

"What?!" Harry yelped, before thinking back to Voldemort's words, and Eto's. "You…and Voldemort…you mentioned the Mongoose…"

"Yes. Back in the late Eighties, when the war against Voldemort was at its height, a Ghoul became infamous for targeting Death Eaters," Ollivander said. "Eyewitnesses caught glimpses of red hair. After that infamous Halloween in 1991, the Mongoose dropped off the face of the Earth."

"The Mongoose also became infamous for targeting other Ghouls," Eto cooed. "Growing up, she became my hero. I didn't realise she was probably your mother, Harry…but I wish I did."

"…Why 'Mongoose'?" Harry asked.

"Because a mongoose eats snakes," Juuzou explained, waving a black pudding lazily. "And as snakes are a symbol of the Death Eaters, not to mention Slytherin…you get the idea." He then bit into the black pudding.

"So, how come I haven't really hungered for human flesh until now?" Harry asked.

"I dunno. Maybe your mother put a charm on you that Voldemort broke with the Cruciatus," Eto said. "We'll have to ask Sirius and Remus once we've cleared them of any compulsions or potions, just to be sure. Harry, trust me. You are not alone."

He didn't feel that way. Despite her platitudes, he felt very alone. One-Eyed or not, being a Ghoul meant his enemies had multiplied manifold. Especially with the Minister of Magic aware of this. He was a fugitive, on the run from Magical Britain. All he could do was sit there, numbly, picking at his food, trying desperately to cling onto some sense of normality, of humanity. Even though it might be in vain…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **The exposition chapter, with added Juuzou! Because everything is better with more Juuzou Suzuya…well, Juuzou Granger, anyway.**

 **1\. Hobbes wrote about this in** ** _Leviathan_** **.**


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